um, as Mill considers it, of ten millions
sterling for its ransom. His officers urged him to accept it, and the
Sultan himself was moved; but recovering himself, he observed that it
was somewhat more honourable to destroy idols than to traffic in them,
and proceeded to repeat his blows at the trunk of the figure. He broke
it open; it was found to be hollow, and at once explained the
prodigality of the offer of the Brahmins. Inside was found an
incalculable treasure of diamonds, rubies, and pearls. Mahmood took away
the lofty doors of sandal-wood, which belonged to this temple, as a
trophy for posterity. Till a few years ago, they were the decoration of
his tomb near Gazneh, which is built of white marble with a cupola, and
where Moollas are still maintained to read prayers over his grave.[38]
There too once hung the ponderous mace, which few but himself could
wield; but the mace has disappeared, and the sandal gates, if genuine,
were carried off about twelve years since by the British
Governor-General of India, and restored to their old place, as an
acceptable present to the impure idolaters of Guzerat.[39]

It is not wonderful that this great conqueror should have been overcome
by the special infirmity, to which such immense plunder would dispose
him; he has left behind him a reputation for avarice. He desired to be
a patron of literature, and on one occasion he promised a court poet a
golden coin for every verse of an heroic poem he was writing. Stimulated
by the promise, "the divine poet," to use the words of the Persian
historian, "wrote the unparalleled poem called the Shah Namna,
consisting of 60,000 couplets." This was more than had been bargained
for by the Sultan, who, repenting of his engagement, wished to
compromise the matter for 60,000 rupees, about a sixteenth part of the
sum he had promised. The indignant author would accept no remuneration
at all, but wrote a satire upon Mahmood instead; but he was merciful in
his revenge, for he reached no more than the seven-thousandth couplet.

There is a melancholy grandeur about the last days of this victorious
Sultan, which seems to show that even then the character of his race was
changed from the fierce impatience of Hun and Tartar to the grave,
pensive, and majestic demeanour of the Turk. Tartar he was in his
countenance, as he was painfully conscious, but his mind had a
refinement, to which the Tartar was a stranger. Broken down by an
agonizing complaint, he p