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OPERATIONS IN SEARCH OF SANSKRIT MSS.
horse-fair held there, but which is also widely known as one of the most sacred places in India, and the only one of all her sacred places which boasts a temple raised in honour of the Creator Brahma. Pushkar is built on three sides of a lake, whose waters fringe the steps of countless temples that are mutely eloquent of the reverence and faith of a great people in days gone by. The suburbs are studded with the palaces of princes, who, in more modern times, have thought to compound for years of self-indulgence by visits to the holy place, or have come here to die. Overlooking all is the peak to which Brahma's angry spouse retired, when here, with the help of her rival, he made the world. Through paths ankle deep in dust, and followed by crowds of Brahmin beggars, as ignorant as they were shameless and importunate, we visited one deserted shrine after another, asking ourselves how long the best minds of India will be content to leave the religion of the common people a prey to the obscene creatures who fatten on it as a means of livelihood. To the Hindu who respects his country's past, and who hopes in her future, I can conceive of no sight more distressing than the present condition of the Holy City, Pushkar.
My hurried visit was, of course, one of mere curiosity; but I obtained subsequently some valuable Brahminical MSS. from Pushkar, through Mr. Bhagvandas Kevaldas, whom I directed to visit the place, on our return from Oodeypore. The most of these have been, at his own request, handed over to my colleague, Mr. Bhandarkar.
A night's journey on the Eastern Rajputana Railway brought us at four in the morning of the next day to the Chittore railway station, which for some reason not very apparent, is a good three miles from Chittore itself. The station for Oodeypore, to which we were bound, is a few miles further on, but the opportunity was not to be resisted of visiting the far-famed city, set upon a hill, which thrice defied the Imperial armies of the Great Mogul.
Of the graces that remain to Chittore, something may perhaps be said in a note.* A solitary Brahmin, unable to read the torn leaves
"We were advancing over a perfectly level plain; and the hill of Chittore was still a dark mass lying along our right. Our first glimpse of the fortress was a sight never to be forgotten. Chittore is to the plain along whose skirts we were moving what Abu is to the western desert. It stands out in the same isolated way from the more compact mass of hills to the further