One of the things that is most difficult for a European to tolerate in a Yezdi is his extraordinary disregard of time. It is not only that he does not care how long he takes over a thing, one might tell story after story on this point, but this is a malady common in the East. What I was not prepared for was that he should have no idea what time means. In Persia a clergyman’s work consists more of seeing people in his own house, and less of visiting; but the great difficulty in receiving visitors is that, if one wants to see parties separately, a single reception is all one can satisfactorily arrange in an afternoon. This is what happens. Two parties send to ask when they can see you, and you reply by asking when it will be convenient for them to come. Both messengers state with the most absolute politeness that it makes no difference to their masters when you say, and that they wish you to choose the time. If you are wise you will tell one party to come two hours after noon, and the other to come at one hour to sunset, which, supposing the sun to be setting at six, will be five o’clock. They will both acquiesce, but you will have to be ready to receive the party due at two at one o’clock, and you must not consider them late if they arrive at three. Similarly you will prepare for the second party at four, and not consider them late before six. But the probabilities are that both parties will arrive at four, the favourite visiting hour, having both decided on that time before sending to ask you.[5] Another great difficulty is the Persian language. Persian is a pretty language with an extremely large vocabulary. What is more, every class of Yezdi, that is, of the men, uses a very large number of words. For all this it is almost impossible to accurately define an idea, for the language largely consists of synonyms, which cannot be used indiscriminately, but must be carefully selected according to the occasion. Some of these synonyms really possess accurate meanings, but if you choose your word according to the sense you wish to convey, you talk bad Persian. To give an illustration of this, suppose in dealing with the Incarnation you desired to bring out the Christian doctrine that God is not only the Friend of man but also his close Companion. I am quite certain that in ordinary Yezdi Persian there is no sufficiently appropriate term for “companion,” that could be applied to God in such a way as to bring out your meaning, without exposing you to a charge of irreverence. As a matter of fact I once tried to convey this idea in a Persian sermon, and was met with this difficulty. I afterwards tried to get three or four native Christians, one of whom was a teacher of Persian, to suggest a possible word, but the only expression they could propose was the word I had used.