[2] For cases of witches sucking out the vitals of their victims, see W. Crooke, Popular Religion and Folklore of N. India, ii. 268 ff.
[3] Mazdurni, a day labourer.
[4] On the efficacy of shaving or plucking out hair from a witch in order to make her incapable of bewitching people, see W. Crooke, Popular Religion and Folklore of N. India[2], ii. 250 f.
[5] Mantra.
[6] Ta'wiz, see p. 214.
LETTER XXVII
Memoir of the life of Meer Hadjee Shah.—His descent.—Anecdote of a youthful exploit.—His predilection for the army.—Leaves his home to join the army of a neighbouring Rajah.—Adventures on the way.—Is favourably received and fostered by the Rajah.—His first pilgrimage to Mecca.—Occurrences during his stay in Arabia.—Description of a tiger-hunt.—Detail of events during his subsequent pilgrimages.—The plague.—Seizure by pirates.—Sketch of the life of Fatima, an Arabian lady.—Relieved from slavery by Meer Hadjee Shah.—He marries her.—Observations on the piety of his life.—Concluding remarks…Page 400
The name of Meer Hadjee Shah has so often occurred in my Letters, that I feel persuaded a brief sketch of his life may be acceptable here, more particularly as that venerated man presented to my immediate observation a correct picture of the true Mussulmaun. I can only regret my inability to do justice to the bright character of my revered father-in-law, whose conduct as a devout and obedient servant to his Maker, ruled his actions in every situation of life, and to whom my debt of gratitude is boundless, not alone for the affectionate solicitude invariably manifested for my temporal comforts, but for an example of holy living, which influences more than precept. This much valued friend of mine was the mouth of wisdom to all with whom he conversed, for even when intending to amuse by anecdotes, of which his fund was inexhaustible, there was always a moral and religious precept attached to the relation, by which to benefit his auditor, whilst he riveted attention by his gentle manners and well-selected form of words.
Before we met, I had often heard him described by his dutiful son, but with all that affection had prompted him to say of his father, I was not prepared to expect the dignified person I found him,—a perfect model of the patriarchs of old to my imagination, nor could I ever look at him through our years of intimacy, without associating him in my mind with Abraham, the father of his people.
His form was finely moulded, his height above six feet, his person erect, even in age, his fine cast of countenance beamed with benevolence and piety, and his dark eye either filled with tears of sympathy or brightening with joy, expressed both superior intelligence and intensity of feeling. His venerable flowing beard gave a commanding majesty to the figure before me, whilst his manners were graceful as the most polished even of European society. Raising his full eyes in pious thankfulness to God (whose mercy had thus filled his cup of earthly happiness to the brim), he embraced us both with a warmth of pressure to his throbbing heart, that pronounced more than his words, the sincerity of our welcome. Never have I forgotten the moment of our meeting. The first impression lasted through our long acquaintance, for he proved indeed a real solace during my pilgrimage in a strange land.