splendour and its beauty, the work that English women have accomplished for the British Raj in India or for the Empire in general.
And of Delhi what, too, shall I say? It is a thrice difficult task to attempt to describe what has been described so often before. I recall with artistic wonder and delight the splendour of a sunset behind the famous and historic tomb of Humáyun, the second of the Mogul dynasty, a noble building of granite inlaid with marble and situated in a wide-spreading garden of terraces and fountains, surrounded by an embattled wall, with towers that finely cut the sky-line and compel the gaze of such as have eyes for architecture. The great white marble dome towers up from the midst of these terraces and gardens, and on the evening in which I saw it, it outlined itself against a sky of incomparable beauty—a sky of azure blue above, and crimsoned beneath with the rays of the setting sun, whilst great masses of white and golden cumuli climbed up from out of the northern horizon. And an hour later I passed down the whole length of the Chandni Chauk, or Street of Silver, and stood beneath the light of the full moon as it brought into strong relief, from out of the shadows of the purple Indian night, the wondrous architecture of the Jama Masjid, or Great Mosque of Delhi. Very boldly it stands out from its rock eminence, easily predominating the noble city. It was in Delhi I obtained my first glimpse of the missionary world. I was fortunate enough to talk with one of the heads of the Delhi Cambridge Mission, a high Anglican, a courtly, cultured man who has since been made an Indian bishop. He told me that the work of the Mission lay mainly among the Mohammedans, and in reply to my question as to how many converts they gained a year he said: "Well, I don't think that is the best way
