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ENTERTAINED IN THE TAJ.
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me, when we could afterward proceed to our own field of labor and begin our work.

While at Meerut my aid was requested, as one of “the Rohilcund Refugees,” to help the Postmaster in the melancholy task of looking over the bags of letters, directed to gentlemen in that province by their correspondents at home in England, which had accumulated there for months. I could tell who were dead, and, generally, where the others were scattered, so as to intimate how he should direct them. It was a sad sight to see the pile of letters from anxious friends which had to be returned to England, because those addressed were no longer among the living.

Early in March it seemed practicable to have the two missionaries and their wives join me. The only portion of the way where there was any danger was from Cawnpore to within twenty miles of Agra, from parties of Sepoys crossing the Grand Trunk road. The telegraph had been restored, and the mails were coming twice a day. I went on from Meerut to Agra, to get into direct communication with them. Through the kindness of the Postmaster and the use of the telegraph, I kept myself well acquainted with the condition of the road as they advanced. They had directions to call at every telegraph office which they passed, so that if there had been any danger ahead of them I could at once have stopped them at any station, until it had passed away; but, by the “good hand of God upon them,” they reached me at Agra in perfect safety on the the 11th of March. The destroyed houses of the English were still in ruins, and the people all in the Fort, which was crowded; so that at first I did not know where or how I could prepare for them a night's lodging, ere they resumed their journey on to Meerut. But in these circumstances I thought the magnificent Taj none too good for them. So I arranged all, and on their arrival had them comfortably lodged in this “Wonder of the World.” Ours was a joyful meeting, and the splendid Taj Mahal was worthy to be the scene of it.

Little did Shah Jehan, or his bigoted Moomtaj-i-Mahal, imagine that a day would come when this matchless mausoleum would be