Monday, Dec. 24, 1838.

The Maharajah is ill—he has cold and fever—so all parties, &c, are put off. We were to have visited his wives to-day, and to have had great illuminations at the palace, but as it is we have passed a quiet comfortable day. We sent word to Shere Singh that Christmas-eve was one of our great festivals, and that we could not be disturbed to-day or to-morrow; and we have been quite alone this evening.

Christmas-day.

Runjeet still ill. Dr. D. has seen him twice and says, if he were a common patient, he would be well in a day or two; but they are all rather alarmed about him as it is. He never will take any medicine whatever. Dr. D. says, he has a little glass closet in a corner of his palace with a common charpoy to lie on, and no other furniture whatever, and hardly room for any. The fakeer was in attendance, and two or three of his coolies sitting on the ground at the door—the old man was asleep with all his clothes on. When he awoke, they washed his hands and feet, and then called Dr. D. in. He thought his voice very indistinct, and I fancy the danger is another stroke of palsy—he had one some years ago.