‘Dec. 23.
‘Though I posted a letter to your sweet Mother only yesterday, perhaps I had better tell you of my visit to the Zenana of —— whilst it is fresh in my mind. Dear C., Miss H., and myself went to-day to visit this Muhammadan house. It is a handsome one, in the midst of fine park-like grounds; and from the lofty verandah we had a better view of part of our city than I have seen before.
‘The Muhammadan Sahib has three wives. I suppose that they were the three middle-aged or elderly native women who sat on a bed; the other five women present, old or young, may have been servants; but one of them, a handsome girl, with very dashing nose-ring, and eyelids blackened on the edges, native-fashion, shook hands with us as well as served us. There were a fair number of free-and-easy little dark children playing about. The eldest is C.’s pupil; and one of the first things done was to hear her repeat her part in a kind of catechism—Christian, of course.
‘One of the ladies smoked a hookah; had it been even invisible, we should have been made sensible of its presence by an occasional bubble-bubble sound, and then a perfume—to our minds by no means odoriferous. Another lady had her teeth horridly blackened by what she had been chewing; but, generally speaking, the natives’ teeth are very nice and white.... I showed off my beautiful chatelaine, your dear Father’s gift, which I think pleased; and Miss H. showed hers, which is quite different in style. You must not suppose that this was a mere visit of amusement.... No, we had Bible-reading and hymn-singing; and afterwards C. was evidently holding a religious discussion with the elder lady.
‘Dec. 24.—I find that only two of the ladies were wives of the Sahib; the third was somebody’s relation.
‘Mr. Clark[34] approves of my Oriental tale, only he wishes some names altered. He is going to give me a list of names, Muhammadan and Hindu.’
TO MRS. HAMILTON.
‘Christmas Day 1875.
‘I was awakened in the night by the Indian Waits, children singing in the language of the Sikhs ... one of their native airs. My little Ayah came up to me and shook hands when she entered my room early in the morning,—is not this the great Day, and is not she a Christian?—so she may indeed rejoice and be glad in it. I have prepared little presents for the dear ladies here, except C., to whom I gave a wedding-present yesterday. I will pause now, and go on later in the day, when I may better describe our Indian Christmas. 6½ A.M. Orphans singing hymns at the top of their voices. They are evidently very happy. They are to have a Christmas tree.
‘Later.—I have come home from church, from receiving the Holy Communion. Thank God, the sheaves are being gathered in! What would dear Henry Martyn not have given to have seen what I saw to-day? So many Natives remained to share the holy Feast, men and women, young and old,—in our little church there must have been nearly if not quite fifty communicants. I received the Cup from the hand of a Native. I felt the scene quite affecting. It is a great privilege to be in India, and specially now, when the blades are ripening,—though, oh, how few in number, compared with the Muhammadans and heathen!