a panic two years before, intended to use its victory with moderation. The same scene was re-enacted at Agra, where, in grand Darbár, towards the close of November, Sindhia — whose loyalty, despite his mutinous army, was unimpeached — and other faithful adherents, received the generous recognition of their services to the State. 'Never in the history of British rule,' says an eye-witness of these ceremonies, 'had there been more real significance in the signs of public rejoicing — the brilliant cavalcades — the processions of elephants — the streets lined with multitudes, eager, gazing, silent, almost voiceless, and rapt in attention — the house-tops crowded with spectators — the illuminations, with the spray of fountains and the flash of light on the forms of mosques, minarets, temples, marked by luminous lines against the black sky.'
In the midst of all, Lord Canning's fine presence, the marble brow, well-chiselled features, and dignified mien, rendered him to the public eye a fit representative of British rule and of the humane and beneficent policy which it was his ambition to realise.
After visiting Meerut, the indefatigable Viceroy allowed himself one of the rare intervals of relaxation, which are to be discovered in the whole of his Indian career — an excursion along the banks of the Ganges Canal to the famous spot at which the sacred river emerges from the Himalaya, and twin snow-clad summits in the horizon look down on the cradle of two of the mightiest of Indian streams. Lord Canning closed the year at Delhi — scene of so many vicissitudes,
