Panjab or Bengal. With this aim he stayed on and on, till hope and will, unquenchable in life, were stilled in death. The exasperating struggle lasted seventeen years after the execution of Sambhaji and the capture of his chief stronghold, and at the end success was as far off as ever.
The explanation of this colossal failure is to be found partly in the contrast between the characters of the invaders and the defenders. Had the Moghuls been the same hardy warriors that Babar led from the valleys of the Hindu Kush, or had the Rajputs been the loyal heroes who had so often courted destruction in their devoted service of earlier emperors, the Marathas would have been allowed but a short shrift. But Aurangzib had alienated the Rajputs for ever, and they would not risk their lives for him in exterminating a people who were, after all, Hindus, however inferior to themselves in caste and dignity. As for the Moghuls, three or four generations of court-life had ruined their ancient manliness. Babar would have scorned to command such officers as surrounded Aurangzib in his gigantic camp at Bairampur. Instead of hardy swordsmen, they had become padded dandies. They were adorned for a procession, when they should have been in rough campaigning outfit. Their camp was as splendid and luxurious as if they were on guard at the Palace of Delhi. The very rank and file grumbled if their tents were not furnished as comfortably as in quarters at Agra, and their requirements attracted an immense crowd of camp-followers, twenty times as
