Of the tcree cities in which the greatest scènes of the mutiny were enacted Lucknow is today by far tha most beautiful. Where the cruelest eeds in the bitter tragedy of Cawnore were done a fair garden was laid ut, and into this no native is permited to come, says the London Tele;raph. A cross of white marble upon black pedestal stands to mark the site of Nana Sahib's Bibighar, or women's quarters, in which, at his brutal orders, the English women and children were done to death. , Over the well there stands now Baron Marochetti's lovely figure of the Angel of the Resurrection,: with the text "These are they which come out of great tribulation," while the inscription, written by the late Lord Elgin, runs: "Sacred to the memory of a great company of Christian people, chiefly women p 'ren. who, near this spot, w-red by the followers of Bithoor, and cast, . . Jie dead, into the well beiow." But. outside, Cawnpore is the Manchester of India, doing a huge trade in cotton, saddlery and boots. At Delhi the most striking and impressive memorial is the battered Cashmere gate and bastions, preserved with infinite care exactly as It was after Lieuts. Home and Salkeld, three sergeants and a bugler boy.blew that narrow breach in it, at the cost of every life but one, through which Campbell's column entered the city. Lucknow, however, is a very garden of gardens. It has its delightful parks, and round every European bungalow are wide pleasaunces, in which gorgeous crotons, wonderful climbüng plants, hibiscus stephanotis and the delicate mauve bourganvillias make splendid color. Before the beautifully kept grounds of the residency there stands the handsome obelisk erected by Lord Northbrook, while viceroy, to those uative oficers and sepoys who remained faithful, with inscriptions in Hindoo and Hindustani. Within are other memorials, but the flrst object of every visitor's pilgrimage are the residency itself and the cemetery. The shot-riddled crumbling walls of tho former teil their own eloquent story, and it is with subdued and thoughtful feelings that oue mounts the tower wbence such eager watch was kept. A very small tablet marks the room in which Lawrence died. In the graveyard are the resting places of those men, women and little children, who died or were killed, and were laid there at night by loving hands, so persistent was the firing in the daytime. The gardener in charge brings a lovely little bouquet of roses and lavender blue plumbago, in case the visitor desires to take away a souvenir of a spot so mournful, so tragic. But surely one would rather cast it in respect upon the marble slab recording in nis own words that "Here lies Henry Lawrence, who tried to do his duty. May the Lord have mercy on his soul."