The Taj stands in the midst of a great garden, laid out with so much skill that from any part of its many beautiful walks fine views may be had of the dome and the minarets. This garden is planted to many tropical trees and flowering shrubs whose foliage brings out in high relief the beauty of the flawless marble tomb. The main gateway of the garden, built of red sandstone, would be regarded as a splendid work of art were it not for the superior beauty of the tomb itself. The gate is inlaid in white marble with inscriptions from the Koran, and it is surmounted by twenty little marble cupolas.

Once inside the gate the beauty and the majesty of the Taj strike one like a physical blow. Simple as is the design, so perfectly has it been wrought out that the building gives the impression of the last word in delicate and unique ornamentation. The white marble base on which the building rests is three hundred and thirteen feet square and rises eighteen feet from the ground. The tomb itself is one hundred and eighty-six feet square, with a dome that rises two hundred and twenty feet above the base. At each corner of the base is a graceful minaret of white marble one hundred and thirty-seven feet high. Although no color is used on the exterior, the decoration is so rich as to prevent all monotony.

Front View of the Taj
Mahal, Agra. This
Unusual View
Was Taken by Mr.
Isaac O. Upham From
the Level of the Main
Approach. It Throws
Into Strong Relief
the Two Lines of
Cypresses and Gives
a Perfect Reproduction
of the Taj in the
Winter

In every detail the Taj satisfies the eye, with the single exception of the work on the minarets. The squares of marble that cover these minarets are laid in dark-colored mortar which brings out strongly each stone. It would have lent more softness to these minarets had the individual stones not been revealed, an effect that could have been secured by using white mortar. When the shades of evening fall these minarets are far more beautiful than by day, as they are softened by the wiping out of the lines about the stones. Under the strong light of the noonday sun the marble that covers the dome shows various shades ranging from light gray to pearly white, but by the soft evening light all these colors are merged and the dome looks like a huge soap bubble resting light as foam on the body of the tomb.

A front photograph of the Taj gives a good idea of its effect. Standing at the portal of the main entrance one gets the superb effect of the marble pathway that borders the two canals in which the building is mirrored. Midway across this pathway is a broad, raised marble platform, with a central fountain, from which the best view of the building may be secured. The path on each side from this platform to the main stairway is bordered by a row of cypress and back of these are great mango trees at least twenty feet high. These should be removed and smaller trees substituted, as they interfere seriously with a perfect view of the tomb.

From this platform the eye rests on the Taj with a sense of perfect satisfaction that is given by no other building I have ever seen. The very simplicity of the design aids in this effect. It seems well nigh impossible that a mere tomb of white marble should convey so vivid an impression of completeness and majesty, yet at the same time that every detail should suggest lightness and delicacy. The little cupolas below the dome as well as the pinnacles of the minarets add to this effect of airy grace.

When one ascends the steps to the main door he begins to perceive the secret of this effect on the senses. Everything is planned for harmony and proportion. The pointed arch, of which all Moslem architects were enamored, is shown in the main doorway and in the principal windows of the front. This doorway rises almost to the full height of the tomb and on each side are recessed windows, with beautifully pointed tops.

All the angles and spandrels of the building are inlaid with precious stones as well as with texts from the Koran. In the center of the building is an octagonal chamber, twenty-four feet on each side, with various rooms around it devoted to the imperial tombs. A dome, fifty-eight feet in diameter, rises to a height of eighty feet, beneath which, inclosed by a trellis-work screen of white marble, are the tombs of the Favorite of the Palace and of the great Emperor. The Emperor, with a touch of the Oriental despot, has made his tomb a little larger than that of the woman whom he honored in this unique fashion. The delicate tracery in marble, so characteristic of Mogul work of the sixteenth century, is seen here at its best, as well as the inlays of the lotus and other flowers in sapphire, turquoise and other stones. The effect is highly decorative and at the same time chaste and subdued. A feature which impresses every visitor is the remarkable trellis work in marble. A solid slab of marble, about six feet by four and about two inches in thickness, is used as a panel. This is cut out into many designs that remind one of fine old lace. These panels abound in every important room of the Taj.

The Taj has suffered little serious damage from the conquerors who successively despoiled it of its wealth of precious stones. The places of these jewels have been supplied with imitations which are almost as effective as the originals. In a few instances the marble has been chipped or broken, but, through the generosity of Lord Curzon, these blemishes have been removed, and the whole structure exists to-day almost as it did three hundred years ago when Akbar's grandson completed it and found it good.

The Taj should be seen by day and again at nightfall. In the full glare of the brilliant Indian sun the dome and the minarets stand out with extraordinary clearness, yet the lightness and buoyancy of the dome is not injured by the fierce light. Seen at sundown the Taj is at its best. All the lines are softened; the minarets and the perfect dome give an appearance of lightness and grace not of this world; they suggest the cloud-capped towers and gorgeous palaces of the poet's vision. As the afterglow fades, the Taj takes on an air of mystery and aloofness; the perfect lines melt into one another and the whole structure is blurred as though it were seen in a dream. Then one bids adieu to the world's perfect building, thankful that he has been given the opportunity to enjoy the greatest marvel of architecture, which leaves on the mind the same impression left by splendid music or the notes of a great singer. Words are poor to describe things like the Taj, which become our cherished possessions and may be recalled to cheer hours of despondency or grief.