I may here remark, swords form a part of every man’s daily costume, from the king to the poorest peasant; save only the devout men, who having forsaken the world have no occasion for a sword.  I have often heard them say, ’My trust is not resting on a morsel of steel, but on the great mercy of my God’.—­’What shall I defend? my life?  Where is the arm that can assault me without the permission of my God; if He ordains it, should I murmur, or ward off the blow?’—­’Is it my worldly goods I am to defend?  From whose bounty have I received them?  Is not the great Giver able to defend His gifts? and if He wills that I should lose them, what shall I say, but as Yoube[24] (Job) said, “It is the Lord, to do His own will”; blessed be His great name for ever.’  These are the sentiments of the devout men of all creeds; and these are likewise the exemplary opinions of some good Mussulmauns I have known in India.

Returned to their home, the rich men are occupied in dispensing benefits among the poor.  Food, money, and clothes, are distributed in nearly as great proportions as when they have to mourn over a recent separation by death from a beloved relative.  The clothes worn during Mahurrum are never retained for the next occasion, but always distributed amongst the poor, who derive so many advantages from the annual commemoration of Mahurrum, that the philanthropic heart will rather be pleased than vexed at the zeal which produces such a harvest of benefits to the necessitous.

The riches of a native city may be calculated by the immense sums expended at Mahurrum every year; and if no greater advantage be derived from the gorgeous display of the wealthy, than the stimulus to honest industry amongst the several trades, whose labour is brought into use on these occasions, there is enough in the result to excuse the expenditure of surplus cash in apparent trifles.  This, however, is strictly the result, not the design, of those expensive displayers at Mahurrum, who are actuated solely by fervent zeal, in keeping a continued remembrance of the sufferings of their Emaums, and doing honour to their memory.

It is not my province either to praise or condemn, but merely to mark out what I observe of singularity in the habits, manners, and customs of the Mussulmauns, in whose domestic circles I have been so many years a sojourner.  On the subject which my pen has faintly traced to your view,—­the celebration of Mahurrum,—­I cannot refrain from offering one remark; I think them to be actuated by so fervent a zeal, that if they could believe with me, that whatever we do in this life is for Eternity, they would still persevere in this their supposed duty of honouring their Emaums.

[1] Mendhi in its primary sense is the plant Lawsonia alba, the
    leaves of which are used for dyeing the hands and feet of the bride
    and bridegroom; hence, the marriage rites on this occasion.