were covered from top to bottom with brocade and the pavement with rich carpets."

Truly a scene of Oriental display and splendour, and worthy of the Arabian Nights. With it may be compared the description of the court of the Palace of Artaxerxes in the Book of Esther where were white and green and blue hangings, fastened with cords of fine linen and purple to silver rings and pillars of marble; the beds were of gold and silver upon a pavement of red and blue and black and white marble.

Of the Peacock Throne, Bernier writes only that it was supported by six feet of solid gold (Tavernier says four, and is no doubt right)-sprinkled over with rubies, emeralds and diamonds; that it consisted of an aigrette of diamonds and other jewels, valued at four and a half millions of pounds, and that the construction and workmanship of it were not equal to the materials, though two peacocks, covered with jewels and pearls, were well conceived and executed. Tavernier, the professional jeweller and gentleman, who saw Delhi two years later (in 1665), describes the throne as of the shape of a bed, six feet by four feet, supported by four golden feet, twenty to twenty-five inches high, from the bars above which rose twelve columns to support the canopy: the bars were decorated with crosses of rubies and emeralds and also with diamonds and pearls. Three steps led up to one of the longer sides of the throne, on which were three golden cushions; round it were suspended a mace, a shield, a bow and a quiver of arrows.

In all, there were 108 large rubies on the throne, and 116 emeralds, but many of the latter had flaws. The twelve columns supporting the canopy were decorated with rows of splendid pearls, and Tavernier considered these to be the most valuable part of the throne. The inside of the canopy was covered with diamonds and pearls, and had a fringe of pearls all round it; and on the four-sided dome stood a peacock with large bouquets of gold inlaid with precious stones on either side of it. The peacock's tail was "made of sapphires and other coloured stones, the body being of gold inlaid with precious stones, having a large ruby in front of the breast, from whence hangs a pear-shaped pearl of fifty-six carats, or thereabouts, and of a somewhat yellow water." On the front side of the canopy was a jewel, consisting of a diamond from eighty to ninety carats' weight, with rubies and emeralds round it. Placed in front of the throne at the sides were two umbrellas of red velvet, embroidered and fringed with pearls, with sticks seven to eight feet high, covered with diamonds, rubies and pearls. This throne was carried off by the Persian invader Nadir Shah in 1739. During the Nineteenth Century it was rumoured that it still existed in the Treasure House of the Shah of Persia; but Lord Curzon, who was allowed a unique opportunity of examining the thrones there, is satisfied that nothing now exists of the famous Delhi throne, except perhaps some portions worked up in a modern Persian throne (Persia, Vol. I., p. 320–22) and no one is likely to differ from this conclusion. The

present throne is, moreover, certainly that which Morier saw early in the century, more than half the distance back in time to the date of the removal of the Peacock Throne from Delhi.

A

NIKKO

WALTER TYNDALE

JAPANESE proverb says: Do not use the word “ magnificent" till you have seen Nikko:

"Nikko wo minai uchi wa,

Kekko' to iu na!"

Nikko is a double glory—a glory of nature and a glory of art. Mountains, cascades, monumental forest-trees had always stood there. To these, in the Seventeenth Century, were added the mausolea of the illustrious Shogun Ieyasu, founder of the Tokugawa Dynasty, and of his scarcely less famous grandson, Iemitsu. Japanese wood-carving and painting on wood being then at their zenith, the result was the most perfect assemblage of shrines in the whole land. But though there is gorgeousness, there is no grandness. That sobriety, which is the key-note of Japanese taste, gives to all the elaborate designs and bright colours its own chaste character.

In addition to this promise of beautiful art and glorious nature, I had met no one during the five months I had already spent in Japan, who did not ask me what I thought of Nikko or who would not exclaim, "Is not Nikko a marvel?" or something similar.

We get glimpses now and again of the avenue of ancient cryptomerias which formerly led from Tokyo to the mausolea of the great Shoguns. Many of the trees have unhappily been felled, but on nearing Nikko the avenue, for a distance of twenty miles, is lined with these giants.

We reached Nikko Station at dusk, and were installed in the Konishiya Hotel soon after. It is well not to arrive late in the day at any Japanese yadoga; the early guest gets into the hot bath first.

The hotel is close to the rapidly-flowing Daiya-gawa, which has to be crossed before reaching the mausolea. It is spanned by a wide bridge, which we and other ordinary mortals have to take; forty yards up stream is a second and this one none save the Mikado is allowed to cross. This is the Mihashi, or Sacred Bridge. The whole structure is red-lacquered, and, partly owing to its unusual colour, as well as its exclusiveness, it has become one of the noted sights of Japan. It has been quite recently reconstructed, as the original one, which dated from nearly three centuries ago, was washed away in 1902.

A legend tells us that one of the earliest Buddhist saints, Shodo Shonin, went in search of a holy spot, which had been indicated to him from afar by four differently coloured clouds ascending from it. His journey was stopped by the river, which was a rushing torrent at the time. He prayed for Divine help to enable him to cross, and in answer to his prayer, a gigantic being, in coloured robes and a necklace of skulls, appeared on the opposite bank. The mys