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WEDNESDAY, February 12.
We are on our way to Agra by rail, and expect to arrive in time to
drive out and see the Taj by moonlight. I have been reading more
carefully than before some descriptions of it, and keep wondering
whether this gem of the world is to prove a disappointment or not.
Most things which have been heralded like the Taj fail to fulfil
expectations at first, and how can stone and lime be so formed as
to justify such fulsome praises as have been bestowed upon this
tomb? One writer, for instance, exclaims, "There is no mystery, no
sense of partial failure about the Taj. A thing of perfect beauty
and of absolute finish in every detail, it might pass for the work
of genii, who knew naught of the weakness and ills with which
mankind were afflicted." The exact and prosaic Bernier had to
express doubts whether "I may not be somewhat infected with
'Indianisme,' but I must needs say I believe it ought to be
reckoned amongst the wonders of the world." Bayard Taylor exhausts
eulogy upon the Pearl Mosque, calling it "a sanctuary so pure and
stainless, revealing so exalted a spirit of worship, that I felt
humbled as a Christian that our noble religion had never inspired
its architects to surpass this temple to God and Mohammed;" but
when he comes to the Taj itself he is lost in rapture.
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