Annals and Antiquities of Rajasthan, or the Central and Western Rajput States of India v2.c27.s7.t5.41

v2.c27.s7.t5.41

But although this was novel and pleasing, it wanted the splendour of the scene of this morning, which I never saw equalled but once. This occurred at Hissar, where I went to visit a beloved friend—gone, alas! to a better world [769],—whose ardent and honourable mind urged me to the task I have undertaken. It was on the terrace of James Lumsdaine’s house, built amidst the ruins of the castle of Firoz, in the centre of one extended waste, where the lion was the sole inhabitant, that I saw the most perfect specimen of this phenomenon: it was really sublime. Let the reader fancy himself in the midst of a desert plain, with nothing to impede the wide scope of vision, his horizon bounded by a lofty black wall encompassing him on all sides. Let him watch the first sunbeam break upon this barrier, and at once, as by a touch of magic, shiver it into a thousand fantastic forms, leaving a splintered pinnacle in one place, a tower in another, an arch in a third; these in turn undergoing more than kaleidoscopic changes, until the “fairy fabric” vanishes. Here it was emphatically called Harchand Raja ki puri, or ‘the city of Raja Harchand,’ a celebrated prince of the brazen age of India.¹ The power of reflection shown by this phenomenon cannot be better described than by stating that it brought the very ancient Agroha,² which is thirteen miles distant, with its fort and bastions, close to my view.