European portion of the community—congratulated
itself upon the triumph which had been
achieved in the breaking down of the old barrier
of Native exclusiveness from which the happiest
results were augured. Nobody had a doubt
that gatherings of the kind would bring about
a state of things interfering considerably with
the purdah— that is to say, the curtain, the
symbol of seclusion. Already, indeed, said
solemn talkers, the community of interest,
brought about by the material progress of
the country, promises to create a new state
of society, in which Mussulman and Hindoo
women cannot retain their old degraded
condition; and this is the more evident when we
consider the development of education, which
will find the next female generation a great
deal too well fitted for society to be easily kept
out of it.

But a whisper got afloat that the Native
ladies who attended the Exhibition were not
generally of the high class supposed; and the
suspicion was confirmed by a Native journal,
which loudly denounced the innovation. No
Native gentleman, said the writer, could allow
the inmates of his Zenana to appear in a place
even so partially public without dishonour to
himself; and no Native lady could so appear
without loss of her dignity and modesty. His
only source of satisfaction, he proceeded to say,
was, that this reproach had been incurred only
in very rare cases; the great majority present,
having been not only of the lowest social grade,
but even the larger number of those of the worst
class, infamously separated from society. That
this statement was in the main true there seems
no reason to doubt, and what explanation will be
offered by the Native gentlemen who suggested
the concession remains to be seen. Perhaps
they were unwilling agents in the matter— had
promised more than they could perform—and
not being able to procure the attendance of the
right ladies, had allowed the wrong ladies to
take their places, in order to avoid giving offence.
But this is certain, that European society
considers itself to have been insulted by Native
society, and that a breach has been made
between the two which, at the present time
especially, is greatly to be deplored. Of the
feeling which has thus arisen, the first sign was
the exclusion of all Native gentlemen from Sir
John Lawrence's lirst great entertainment at
Government House—  an unexampled measure,
which could have been forced upon a statesman
like Sir John only by very serious considerations.
That a better understanding will be
re-established may be anticipated; but it will not be
just now; and it is plain from this little piece of
experience that we are not quite so near the
annihilation of Native prejudices as some sanguine
persons suppose.

The Agricultural Exhibition, however,
remains a success as far as its intended objects
are concerned; and the example of Bengal is
being already followed in the Punjab and
elsewhere. The material progress of the country,
promoted by these means, must prepare the
way for the more important ends in view,
and education and time must be left to do the
rest.

THE EYES OF MAHMUD.

SULTAN MAHMUD, son of Sabaktagin,
Swept with his sceptre the hot sands of Zin,
Spread forth his mantle over Palestine.
And made the carpet of his glory shine
From Cufah to Cashmere; and, in his pride,
Said, " All these lands are mine."

                                     At last he died.

Then his sons laid him, with exceeding state.
In a deep tomb. Upon the granite gate
Outside, they graved in gold his titles all,
And all the names of kingdoms in his thrall.
And all his glory. And, beside his head
They placed a bag of rice, a loaf of bread,
And water in a pitcher. This they did
In order that, if God should please to bid
His servant Death to let this sultan go,
Because of his surpassing greatness, so
He might not come back hungry. But he lay
In his high marble coffin night and day
Motionless, without majesty or will.

Darkness sat down beside him, and was still.

Afterwards, when a hundred years had roll'd,
A certain king, desiring to behold
This famous sultan, gave command to unlock
The granite gate of that sepulchral rock,
And with a lamp went down into the tomb,
And all his court.

                              Out of the nether gloom
There rose a loathsome stench intolerable.
Hard by the marble coffin, on a sel
Of mildew'd stone, the earthen pitcher stood,
Untouched, untasted. Rats, a ravenous brood,
Had scattered all the rice, and gnaw'd the bread.
All that was left upon this marble bed
Of the great sultan, was a little heap
Of yellow bones, and a dry skull, with deep
Eye-sockets. But in those eye-sockets, lo!
Two living eyes were rolling to and fro,
Now left, now right, with never any rest.

Then was the king amazed, and smote his breast,
And called on God for grace. But not the less
Those dismal eyes, with dreadful restlessness
Continually in their socket-holes
Roll'd right and left, like pain'd and wicked souls.
Then said the king, "Call here an Abid wise
And righteous, to rebuke those wicked eyes,
That will not rest."

                          And when the Abid came,
The king said, " O wise Abid, in the name
Of the high God that judges quick and dead,
Speak those eyes."

                         The Abid, trembling, said,
"Eyes of Mahmud, why is your rest denied
In death? What seek ye here?"

                                   The eyes replied.
Still rolling in their withered sockets there,