IN A ZENANA.

Otago Witness, Issue 1951, 11 April 1889, Page 31

IN A ZENANA.

The only time I ever penetrated into the zenana apartments of any native house was once in Lucknow, when the ex-King of Oudh's brother begged me to go and see his wives. The Nawabs of ,Oudh are, however, anything but typical specimens of Hindustani gentlemen. They are terribly lax in their opinions, and are very properly looked upon shyly in consequence by their stricter co-religionists. They will even sit at table and break bread with the' infidels, stipulating only that no flesh of the unclean animal shall under any guise be offered to them. The Nawab took me himself into the zenana, and there left me'with the chief Begum and several other women, whether attendants or younger wives I could not tell. They were much interested in my garments, the cut of which seemed to them as ridicu- 1 lous then as it will seem to me myself 20

years later. They themselves were clothed frail the "variety of colour and of draped folds permitted in Eastern dress, the fashicn ' alone of which is as unchangeable as are the fashions of Nature, who, though she abhorreth uniformity, yet deparfeeth not from her ancient patterns. The women touched me and stroked me with childish curiosity, asking endless naive questions about everything. The conversation was conducted but lamely on my part, owing to my deficient knowledge of the language, which often compelled me to say rather what I was able to say than what I should have wished to say. Knowing how often from this cause I have had to forego my most telling arguments, and change or entirely suppress some apropos remark I should have wished to make, I have been struck with astonishment when reading books of travel to see how well, and even eloquently, the writers have been able to express themselves in conversation with the natives of divers strange and foreign countries in which they had only passed a few months. So painfully, indeed, have I at times suffered from this paralysing inability to express my thoughts that I have often felt personal sympathy with a dog, whose eyes seemed to show his intense desire to express his feelings and his grief at being dumb. " Poor fellow 1 " I have said ; " yes, I know it is hard. I have felt it." After we had been talking some time the Begum said : "Ah, you English ladies are very happy. Your husband has but one wife." I replied, with more thought at the moment of politeness than of sincerity, I fear, that 1 supposed immemorial custom would reconcile a woman to being but one of many wives. With a pathetic gesture she said sadly, "But custom cannot alter our hearts! and they are like yours — they can love and they can suffer. Could you be happy if you saw your husband give his love to another wife?" I own it surprised me ,tbat she should feel it in this way, and should at heart rebel against the universal lot of Mahomedan women. We are apt to forgeb the truth of the dictum that " there's a deal of human nature in us all," and that it makes the whole world kin. We think too often that those who do not complain do not suffer or wish for any change. It seems so natural for a cockatoo to have a chain on his foot, and sit all his lire on a brass stand, that we forget how his instinct must stir within him and make him long to spread his wings and swoop through space with a merry chattering flock of other cockatoos, and take a mate and rear a brood of noisy youngsters. Oh, no ! he is quite happy, and • wants none of these things. Has he not plenty of sugar ? and is not his mistress devoted to him ? Happy Poll I Why should we talk of rebellious nature and thwarted instincts 1 Thy lot is a common one; does that not content thee 2— " Cornhill."