A.D. 1888-1890
THE DAILY ROUND
The year 1888 closed with another sharp attack of illness, not so severe
or so prolonged as that of 1885, but sufficient to cause anxiety. On the
16th of December, though ‘far from well,’ Charlotte Tucker went to church
as usual; but all her ‘wraps upon wraps could not keep her from catching
cold.’ On the 21st, Mr. Bateman, reaching Amritsar, was much disturbed
by the arrival of a telegram from Batala, requesting Dr. H. M. Clark to
go over immediately, as Miss Tucker was in high fever. There was some
hesitation whether to start at once by ekka, or to wait for the early
morning train; and the latter plan was decided upon. When Dr. Clark went,
Mr. Bateman accompanied him; and he wrote to Mrs. Hamilton on the 23rd:--
‘We reached Batala--“Sonnenschein”--together at 10.30
yesterday. The Auntie was reported sleeping without fever. She
woke about 11; and Dr. Clark, after seeing her, telegraphed,
“No immediate anxiety,” to Mr. Clark, who on receipt would
decide whether to go to Batala, or to come here (Lahore) for
the “Quiet Day.” The Auntie was very much pleased at my going
over, and would not rest again till I had been into her room.
She is in a comfortable, warm room. To my uninitiated eye she
seemed to have everything about her which she could desire....
As I passed into the room Dr. Clark passed out, and behind
the screen he whispered, “She is all right.” She met me with
almost a shout of welcome, and said a number of quasi-comic
solemnities, squeezing my hands with great energy. She was a
little flushed, and owned that she was weak, but as far as
appearances went I have often seen her look worse when in full
work. I felt very happy about her; but Dr. Clark said that
there was a blueness and a twitching about the lips which he
did not like, and that she was very weak. His “All right,”
he said afterwards, meant only, “You may safely go in.” The
fever kept off all day, and only returned about four in the
afternoon.... It was 105 on Friday night.... I noticed that she
is very much more amenable to discipline than before. She
admits that she can’t walk or write decently, and she takes her
medicine, including five grains of quinine, every three hours,
very carefully and with great docility....’
One little remark that she made to Mr. Bateman was, ‘Thank God, He has
made me quite comfortable’; and again, ‘I don’t find that I can pray to
God about myself; for I don’t know what to say.’
‘You are in a strait betwixt two,’ suggested Mr. Bateman.
Miss Tucker did not like this, and she showed that she did not. Her
friend adds, ‘I attribute the slight twinge it gave her to her habitual
dislike to being thought so well of, as that she might appropriate an
Apostolic utterance.’
Another observation was as to the ‘Quiet Day’ in Lahore,--_she_ was
having a ‘Quiet Week’ given to her at Batala instead.
Some slight memoranda of things that dropped from her were jotted down
at the time by Miss Dixie. ‘Nil Desperandum’ was often quoted in this
and other illnesses; also she would generally try to sing ‘Charlie is my
Darling,’--no doubt a reminiscence of her old Stuart enthusiasm.
With reference to a Muhammadan school which had been shut some months
before: ‘The Muhammadans have done us a good turn! They have rubbed hard
against our shield, and have caused our motto on it to shine bright.’
‘My little musician is playing all day,’ she said once. She was asked,
‘What kind of tunes?’ ‘Now--“The Heavens are Telling.” The harmony is
beautiful. I can hear every note!’ She was asked again, ‘Does it play
on its own account, or do you express a wish for special tunes?’ ‘It is
sometimes wilful,’ Miss Tucker said, ‘and plays, “Charlie is my Darling,”
when I would rather it played something else. It plays tunes I have not
heard since I was a child,--so correctly,--all in harmony!’ One of her
favourite hymns in illness was ‘Peace, perfect peace’;--but she ‘did not
like the last verse; it contradicted what went before.’
Happening to speak about different kinds of love, she observed,--‘There
is a passion, not a love, which I have known some women to have for
another. That is not wholesome; it is a passion, not love.’ Again, on the
question of bringing others to Christ,--‘We are only the housemaids! We
open the door; but they come in, and go themselves up to the King.’
It was either after this illness, or after another of the same type that
she said, ‘I have felt that a beautiful Wing has been spread over me,
which is lined with down and stitched with gold; and I am quite safe.
Nothing can harm me so long as I remain under it!’ Somebody rather
unnecessarily remarked, ‘But it is our own fault if we do not remain
under it.’ ‘No,’ Miss Tucker replied, ‘we can’t say that. Satan does
give us a pull sometimes.’ She was reminded that God’s ‘favour is always
towards us’; but again she asserted the undeniable truth that God does
sometimes permit His servants to be thus tried.
A long letter from herself to Mrs. Hamilton is dated December 21st, or
two days before that written by Mr. Bateman, and apparently the very day
on which Dr. Clark was summoned by telegram to Batala. This must have
been a slip. The handwriting is shaky, but she speaks of her illness as
past. With reference to the beginning of the latter, she says:--
‘When in the afternoon (of the 16th) it was evident that I was
seriously ill, the effect was magical. Up went my spirits like
a balloon,--the curious effect which severe illness seems to
have naturally upon me.... To be bright and cheerful in sickness
and suffering costs me nothing, for it seems to come naturally;
but I dare say that I get credit for a great deal of grace. It
is so difficult for others, so difficult for _ourselves_, to
distinguish between Nature and Grace.’
One may perhaps add that it is also unnecessary to do so,--unnecessary
as regards ourselves, and utterly impossible as regards others. Better
to leave such questions in the Hands of Him with Whom alone ‘all things
are naked and opened.’ But evidently the subject had been much in Miss
Tucker’s mind. The long letter is half full of it.
On January 4 she wrote:--
‘Now I dare say that you will want to hear how I am.
Wonderfully well, though, of course, not strong. I went a
short distance in my duli to-day. My late illness has quite
convinced me that God has given me a capital constitution. I
had, apparently, so much against steady recovery. Yet--there is
no doubt of it--I _am_ recovering. Except rather more weakness
of the eyes and slight loss of flesh, no dregs seem left.’
* * * * *
‘BATALA, _Jan. 24, 1889_.--Many thanks for the printed extract
from good Mr. Clifford’s letter about the cure for leprosy.... I
dare say that it _is_ a valuable medicine when properly used;
but probably the secret of its great success in the Andamans
is that it was tried on convicts, who dared not refuse to rub
themselves properly. Mr. Clifford writes that the exercise
is part of the remedy; but I think that it would be wellnigh
impossible to persuade _free_ lepers to rub themselves for four
hours daily. They would greatly prefer leprosy and begging. Do
you not know of the Indian mother who, when one of the Mission
ladies told her to rub oil over her poor sick child’s body,
refused to take such trouble? “I have another!” said she. With
dear good Father Damien it would be different.’
TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.
‘_Feb. 16._--The wood-pigeons are cooing, the little
peach-trees displaying pink blossoms, the fields are green with
young corn. Perhaps you will half envy us when you read this;
but you would hardly envy us six weeks hence....
‘In Mission life so much depends on one’s companions.... One
must not expect too much, for all Missionaries are fallible.
One should remember one’s own infirmities, and make allowance
for those of others. In India we seem to live in glass houses;
people are so well known; such a one is quick-tempered, such a
one--but you can imagine what it is. There is little privacy
even in the dwellings. There is no hall; the upper part of the
outer door is glass; people see through, tap, and walk in....
India is a good place for preventing one from growing stiff
and precise, and determined not to be put out of one’s way. At
Batala especially there is no starch.’
TO MRS. HAMILTON.
‘_May 2._--I could give you curious anecdotes of the Ramazan,
the grand Muhammadan Fast, which has now begun. Minnie tells
me of women in an ostentatious way bringing their bottles, as
if for medicine, to the Dispensary; and then saying that they
cannot take it--it is their fast. Why did they come then? To
be admired for piety! Others come, looking rather piteous,
though perhaps not really ill, that the Doctor Miss Sahiba
may _forbid_ them to fast. Minnie asked one woman whether she
fasted. “I am poor; what can I do?” was the helpless reply.
One not acquainted with the case might interpret this as, “I
am helpless--I am only too often _obliged_ to fast.” It really
means, “I am _too poor_ to fast.” You might imagine fasting to
be rather economical. Quite the reverse! For instance, the ----
whom Minnie employs is laying out a whole month’s salary in
_food for the fast_, to have it extra good. She will have two
meat meals every night, to make up for not eating in the day.
Does it not remind one of the Pharisees?’
Miss Tucker’s birthday this year was signalised by the Baptism of one of
the servants, and his whole family, including a little brown baby. After
describing the event to her sister, with great delight, she added,--‘Of
course the new Christians were all invited to the simple feast under a
moonlit sky, which dear Babu Singha gave in my honour. It certainly was
one of the best, if not the very best birthday, kept by your now aged but
truly loving Char.’
‘_May 30._--These last two mornings I have gone to help Miss
Dixie by reading to her patients in the waiting-room of her
Dispensary. There should always be some one to read, talk,
sing, and keep order. Dear good Rosie Singha is wanted to make
up medicines. I do not know what poor Minnie would do without
her.... It is strange what difficulty we have in getting Native
helpers for her (Miss Dixie).... You will have seen in the papers
that noble devoted Father Damien has sunk to rest; his form
sleeps in a leper’s grave. What a wonderful life and death was
his!’
* * * * *
‘SIMLA, _June 13_.--Here is Char in Simla, the queen city of
the mountain; but I do not think that I shall see much of it.
I have a nice quiet walk near, commanding a noble view; and I
go backwards and forwards along it, not troubling myself at
all with climbing or sight-seeing. The air is very pure and
fine; so I drink it in, and if anything is to give strength it
ought to do so.... There seems to be a great deal of etiquette
here,--people placed exactly according to rank at the grand
parties.... I do not care much for what are really trifles, and
am thankful that I have not to go out and be gay. I make the
most of my age, which enables me, as it were, to sit quietly in
a corner, and not even take the fatigue of rounds of visits. A
lady had paid sixteen in one day, she said. Evidently, it is a
matter of congratulation to find friends (?) not at home.... We
take our meals at a table d’hôte, happily a quiet one. I sit
between Louis and Lettie, so hardly speak to any one else, for
I am shy of conversing across the table.’
* * * * *
‘_July 18._--Your “running about,” love, has been on a milder
scale than mine. On Friday last, knowing that I was to rise
at about 3 A.M. (after a dinner-party at the C.’s), I did
not entirely undress. Miss Warren and I started on our long
journey downhill by the dim light of a clouded moon. Laziness
might have made us miss the evening train, for we had nearly a
hundred miles’ drive, in a succession of vehicles, to reach it;
and we knew not what the state of the road might be.
‘Vehicles, did I write? Would you call an elephant a vehicle?
We came to a place where there was a good deal of water; the
Gogra swollen by the rains. We were requested to quit the heavy
gari, and go across on an elephant. The nice docile creature
knelt down; and a man actually wished us to clamber up by its
tail! He grasped it, so as to form a kind of loop for me to
put my foot in! But I objected to this method of mounting,
and managed to scramble up by means of a kind of big bag hung
across the animal. There was no saddle or howdah; but the
beast’s back was broad, its pace gentle, and we held on by
ropes fastened across the elephant. The good creature well
deserved the two biscuits with which it was rewarded.’
The following letter was with respect to two young Indians, in whom Mrs.
Hamilton had been much interested. One might hesitate to quote it, in
fear of giving pain to the really true-hearted among Indian Christians;
but _they_ are not referred to! It seems necessary to show that Miss
Tucker, despite her readiness always to think the best of people, was by
no means always easily taken in; and that she gained wisdom through sad
experience:--
‘BATALA, _July 31_.--I have received the following reply from
---- about that Native in whom you have so long taken kindly,
I fear little merited, interest. You do not yet, darling, know
how little it costs Indians to write or speak in a way to
please. They deceive even old experienced Missionaries....
‘It seems almost cruel to throw cold water on my Laura’s warm
generous feelings, but I confess to an impression that Natives
try to deceive one so much more pure-minded and honest than
themselves. We get so grievously deceived and disappointed
here, where we have much better opportunities of judging. But
I hope that your ---- may prove one of the real jewels which
_are_--though not so often as we could wish--to be found
amongst Orientals.
‘_Aug. 1._--Yesterday’s post brought me a loving letter from my
Laura.... A man[124] whom my Laura calls “my friend, ----,” ought
to turn out a fine fellow at last. Of course I cannot judge if
the going to Paris will be good or not. I do not like hiding
colours when a man has been baptized. With secret believers
some indulgence is sometimes needed; but after Baptism, it
seems to me that to pass for a Muhammadan is a sign--of danger
at least. But you will talk over the subject with Rowland. Five
minutes with him will be better than five long letters from me.
O my Laura, I have so learned to mistrust myself, my judgment,
my disposition; and I have been particularly tried this year by
inconsistency in those of whom I had thought highly.’
TO MISS MINNIE DIXIE.
‘_Aug. 17, 1889._
‘J. D., exemplary young man, has put all three harmoniums to
rights. He says that the largest has 223 tongues, and that
25 were dumb. Perhaps I have not given the numbers quite
correctly, but nearly so. A live scorpion was found in our
drawing-room instrument. It cleverly managed to get away, but
was happily found and killed. There was a regularly-conducted
Batala Feast yesterday, given by M. in honour of Baby Baring’s
second birthday. As I walked towards the Singhas, I spoke with
regret of the nice old-fashioned feasts, which seem to have
gone out, when every one sat on the ground. Pleased was I to
behold the cloth laid in the verandah, with no tables! We were
to have an old-fashioned feast, after all. And a very nice one
it was! About forty partook of it. To-day my nephew gives a
smaller party in honour of his dear wife’s birthday.’
TO THE REV. F. H. BARING.
‘_Nov. 14, 1889._
‘I must give you good news. Another sheaf laid, by God’s grace,
on our Mission Plough. A nice gentlemanly young Brahmin from
that school, K. K., openly received Baptism in the large Church
last Sunday. As notice had been given to his family, there was
such a tamasha as I had never seen in Batala before. Crowds
gathered behind the extempore barricade to divide off the
heathen in the Church--line above line of turbaned heads; and
the doors were thronged. Without exaggeration, there must have
been _at least_ 200 people, besides us Christians. R. C., K.
B., and A. B. (all converts) made very dashing daring extempore
policemen to keep the Hindus from swarming in. The font was
very near the sort of barricade; so our young candidate had to
face the crowd,--amongst them one or two angry members of his
family,--at the distance of only about two yards; but he bore
himself like a hero, giving all his answers in a clear distinct
tone. The most exciting part was getting our lad out of the
church and safe off! The Hindus tried to stop and make the
horse back; our boys pushed on behind with energy; and at last
the tum-tum was off and away. I would not have missed the scene
for something.’
Before entering on the correspondence of 1890, the following verses may
be given, written in the course of that year for Batala boys; spirited
in style as ever, though Charlotte Tucker was now verging on the age of
seventy:--
A GENTLEMAN.
‘What is it makes a Gentleman? ’Tis not his high estate,
His liveried footmen, or the grooms that on his orders wait,--
The horses and the carriages that stand before his gate,
The tenants who bow low to him, and think him very great.
_Chorus_--
These do not make the Gentleman, whate’er his station be!
‘What is it makes a Gentleman? Not colour of his skin,--
The Negro, black as ebony, may yet be fair within;
The weak, the lowly, and the poor, a glorious race may win,--
There’s nothing makes a man so low as cowardice and sin!
_Chorus_--
He cannot be a Gentleman, whate’er his station be!
‘What is it makes a Gentleman? His dress is not the sign,--
Though on each finger of each hand a jewelled ring may shine;
His necktie may be elegant--his boots be superfine--
Howe’er you dress a monkey, Sir, he is no friend of mine.
_Chorus_--
He cannot be a Gentleman, whate’er his station be!
‘The real Gentleman is he whose aims are pure and high;
Who scorns a base dishonest act, and tramples on a lie;
Who treats the woman and the child with gentle courtesy,
Who holds the Christian’s faith and hope, so does not fear to die!
_Chorus_--
He is the real Gentleman, whate’er his station be!’
All these years, off and on, Charlotte Tucker’s pen had been at work;
and probably nothing that she ever wrote was of greater importance than
the many tiny little booklets for translation into the various languages
of India. After being composed by her in English they were rendered
by competent persons into Urdu, Panjabi, Hindi, Bengali, Tamil, and
were published at exceedingly low prices, to be sold by hundreds of
thousands among the Natives of the country. Many were brought out by the
Christian Literature Society for India, many more by the Punjab Religious
Book Society. A small report of the latter Society, so early as about
1877-78, speaks of thirty-seven of A. L. O. E.’s tiny booklets as already
published, and of fresh editions being in some cases already called for.
A letter to her English Publishers, Messrs. Nelson & Sons, early in
1890, gives interesting information on the subject:--
‘BATALA, _Jan. 18, 1890_.
‘I am much pleased to hear that _Beyond the Black Waters_ is
out at last, and return you many thanks for the copies for
presentation, kindly sent for me.
‘The subject of “cheap editions” of works published long
ago is of great interest to me. I am living in an immense
country, swarming with Muhammadans, Hindus, and Infidels, where
Government is educating tens of thousands of lads, without
giving them any religious instruction.... An evident breakwater
for the waves of impiety and sedition is religious literature.
But it must be very cheap, or hardly any Natives will buy
it. I saw long ago in a Report of the Christian Vernacular
Society, that for _one_ book costing, if I remember rightly,
about threepence, _forty_ are sold costing a pie, less than a
farthing.[125] I resolved to write one-pie stories; did so; and
thousands and tens of thousands have been sold.
‘A lady here has told me that _The Young Pilgrim_ is out of
print; she has vainly attempted to buy it. A cheap edition of
that might, by God’s blessing, be useful in India. Good paper
is not needed; but clear type and a bright cover,--not pink, as
that soon fades in India.
‘As I went along in my duli, a kind of square box carried
by men, to-day, to visit villages, I thought that the
_Giant-Killer_--only the parable part, which would make a very
moderate-sized book--might have a large circulation here.
Natives like parables; and though the English portion of the
volume, describing the Roby family, might not be suited to
Oriental readers, Giant Sloth, Selfishness, etc., are quite as
troublesome in India as in England. Would you like to make an
experiment with this small publication? If so, I should gladly
myself purchase for poor India £10 of cheap copies,--not more
than sixpence each,--to be sent as from me to the Christian
Vernacular Society’s House, Madras. As soon as I heard of the
parcel being shipped, I would send the cheque.’
When Miss Tucker was first starting for India, her brother, Mr. Henry
Carre Tucker, had written to her upon the subject of literature for
that land; and a short quotation from his letter may be appropriately
given here. ‘The great thing at present,’ he wrote, ‘is to disseminate
widely Christian Vernacular Literature in all the languages, and suitable
to the requirements of all classes, men, women, and children; rich
and poor; educated and ignorant. Government is rapidly teaching most
of the boys to read. We Christians must provide them with a wholesome
literature. Few women and girls can be reached personally, but books
penetrate everywhere, and may do an untold amount of secret silent good.
The preparation and distribution of such Literature ought to be your
great object. You might organise Female Colporteurs for the Zenanas and
womenkind.’ This last suggestion Miss Tucker does not seem ever to have
taken up, or attempted to carry out.
Books for English readers still went on appearing from time to time. In
1885 she published _Pictures of St. Paul_; and in 1886 _Pictures of St.
Peter_ followed. In 1887 came _The Fairy in a Web_, and _Driven into
Exile_. The year 1888 also saw two--_The Hartley Brothers_, and _Harold’s
Bride_, both being continuations of the two Picture volumes, named
above. In 1889 _Beyond the Black Waters_ was brought out; in 1890 _The
Blacksmith of Boniface Lane_; in 1891 _The Iron Chain and the Golden_;
and in 1892 _The Forlorn Hope_. When one considers her age, her failing
health, and her ceaseless Zenana toil, one cannot but be astonished at
the mental energy shown in getting through such an amount of writing as
this.
On the 17th of February Miss Maria Hoernle left Batala, with the purpose
of soon proceeding to England; and Miss Tucker wrote next day:--
‘So closes a leaf of my life; for I doubt whether I shall again
see on Earth one who nursed me too devotedly in 1885. Maria
prefers Bengal to the Panjab; so, if she return, we have hardly
a chance of meeting, unless perhaps at some Hill-Station.... I
wonder if my dear Bhatija Francis Baring will ever return to
India. He was for long my sole European companion.... Think of
sixty-five Communicants last Sunday in Batala! We never had so
many before.... The Bishop was pleased,--though tired by his
village tour, seeing the seven little congregations of the
Batala district.’
* * * * *
‘_March 7._--You must not think of converts, love, as the
fruits of my labour, but that, by God’s blessing, of others. I
have so many Zenanas and villages, with limited strength, that
hardly one place gets more than _one_ visit from me in a month,
some not even that! My employment is trying to pull up weeds
that cumber, and to _sow_ good seed; but I have no time to
_water_,--or very little, so far as Zenanas are concerned.’
The 8th of May, Miss Tucker’s sixty-ninth birthday, passed quietly,
without the usual feasting, on account of the death, three days before,
of Babu Singha’s wife, who, as Miss Tucker wrote,--‘fell asleep in
Jesus,’after some twenty-eight years of happy married life. The letter
of May 8 is very full of sympathy with the bereaved husband and the nine
children. In the latter half of the same letter, finished next day, comes
the mention of ‘another book’ just written. ‘I am making out the fair
copy in my seventieth year. I have regarded _Beyond the Black Waters_ as
my chrysanthemum, a winter plant, lingering on even till December. But
my _Blacksmith of Boniface Lane_ must be a little sprig of holly. It has
its prickles and its red berries. It has a historical--I suppose that I
should say--root, not basis.’
TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.
‘_June 4, 1890._
‘We had a very uncommon visitor, who came at about 4 A.M. on
the 1st of June. I do not think that he ever came before.
What say you to a Bagh-i-bilae, or Tiger-cat? He wanted to
steal Miss Dixie’s chickens, but lost his own life,--six men
succeeding in the difficult task of killing the fierce beast.
We have kept his skin, which measures three feet five inches
from the tip of the nose to the end of his rather shabby tail;
so you see that he was a remarkable cat. The colour pale
grey, with a darker stripe down the back. There must have
been another curious visitor, and one who also left his skin,
but without giving any one the trouble of killing him. The
day after the death of the Bagh-i-bilae, Minnie found in her
bath-room the overcoat of a snake about four feet long. He has
made us a present of it; for there is no use in advertising for
the owner of the skin. He gives it us gratis!’
TO MRS. HAMILTON.
‘MURREE, _June 27, 1890_.
‘This day fortnight I expect to start on my long journey to
Batala.... Life in a large Hill-Station is hardly congenial to an
old Missionary. It is curious how _poverty_ is pleaded here by
the gay and fashionable, who live in goodly houses, entertain
elegantly, ride nice horses, dress well, etc. “Every one is
poor at Murree,”--that is to say, when money is required for
religious or charitable purposes. L. is collecting for Lady
Dufferin’s Fund; a rich man’s response was that the journey to
Murree had cost him so much! The poor Chaplain complained from
the pulpit of the shabby collections for the Lahore Cathedral.’
In her letter of July 2 she wrote,--having been told of shaking her head
in Church at something that she disapproved,--‘I am trying to cure myself
of that trick.’ It had grown to be so frequent a habit, that one of her
younger companions had already mentioned the tendency. If anything was
said which she did not quite like, or even if in thought she recurred
to something which she regretted, she would say nothing, but would sit
silent, gently shaking her head. On being remonstrated with, she showed
no annoyance, but at once said cheerfully,--‘When I shake my head, you
must _rap the table_!’ The genuine humility of this answer is even more
remarkable than the fact that, at her age, she should soon have entirely
overcome the peculiarity.
On July 16 she described herself as ‘in a frisky mood, on account
of getting back to Batala, and finding things so nice here, weather
included;’--and a little later, ‘It is so nice to be amongst my brown
Christian boys again!’
‘_Aug. 22, 1890._--I must amuse you and dear Leila by a little
Oriental episode. A nice simple young widow, called W., is
being prepared for Baptism. Female converts, who have not
husbands, are specially welcome, as there is a great difficulty
to poorer Christians about getting wives. Even before W.’s
baptism, therefore, ---- wished to secure her for a favourite
convert. I spoke for him to W., and she consented just to
see M. N., being assured that, if either she or he were not
satisfied, there should be no marriage. As we are very proper
here, the important interview took place in my presence; but I
went a little aside, so as to be no _gêne_. The man seemed very
sensible and nice. He began religious conversation at once,
questioning the girl to whom he was paying his addresses, as a
Pastor might have done with a candidate for baptism.
‘So long as the wooer kept to this, all appeared going on
well. M. N. questioned, and W. answered in her simple innocent
fashion. But when something more personal was said,--I did not
hear what, but I suppose that its gist was, “Will you marry
me?”--I felt that there was some sticking, and came to the
rescue. I asked W. if she were willing; and a little in the
spirit, though not in the words of the old song--
‘“Amazed was the laird, when the lady said--‘Na!’”
‘I was surprised, and so I think was the visitor. I asked
again, to make sure; and again came a quiet decided negative.
So of course I let “Mistress Jean” “turn awa’.” ... W. has a
perfect right to say “Na,” if she prefer a life of sewing,
grinding corn, etc., to trying matrimony a second time. I like
her the better for her independent spirit.’
* * * * *
‘_Aug. 28._--I think that this August has been the pleasantest
month that I have spent this year. The temperature, quite
unusually mild for August, suits me admirably; for my idea of
a perfect temperature is from 80° to 85° in the house. It is
getting into the 90°s that is trying. There is a good deal of
sickness about from damp, but damp does not appear to hurt me,
and it makes the air so soft.’
* * * * *
‘_Sept. 12._--I have written through dear Leila my triple
thanks for the very elegant tasteful dress and pretty jacket.
The cloud I am keeping for Minnie, whom I hope to see back on
Tuesday. The women in Batala will be so glad to have the “Star”
open again. Dear sweet Daisy Key and I will be glad too to have
the doctoring in the compound taken off our hands. Some one or
other seems to be perpetually ill. Castor-oil and quinine have
to be freely used. Happily both are easily procured, especially
the first....
‘As I was walking in the city early one morning,[126] a party
of Government schoolboys passed me, marching in order, in
evident imitation of our Christian boys. A minute or two
afterwards a very respectable-looking middle-aged Native,
probably their master, ran after me. I halted, to know what he
wanted; and something like this curious conversation passed
between us, in English,--
‘MASTER. “I beg your pardon. Do you pronounce opíate or ópiate?”
‘I. “Ópiate.”
‘M. “Who were the Jacobins?”
‘I. “Bad men, who cut off other people’s heads.”
‘M. “Were they Roman Catholics or Protestants?”
‘I. “Neither. They had no religion.”
‘M. “Were Jacobins connected with Jacobites?”
‘I. “No; those were followers of King James.”
‘M. “One more--what is ‘Black eye,’--‘give a black eye?’ I
cannot find it in the dictionary.”
‘To this funny question also I gave a brief answer, and then my
volunteer pupil left me,--I hope satisfied with his lesson.’
* * * * *
‘_Oct. 14, 1890._--The shadow of consumption which _may_ end
fatally is on two dear Native Christians here. One is R. U., a
well-educated Convert from Narowal, who has suffered much for
the Faith. The other is dear Babu Singha’s youngest daughter,
Bini. The death of her loved mother in May was a terrible
shock to Bini. Babu Singha, a most tender father, has gently
intimated to his darling child that perhaps she may be the
first to see that dear mother again. Bini is quite pleased at
the thought....
‘But oh, Laura, we have had in our Mission lately something
worse, oh, so much worse! It has been as startling as a sudden
thunder-clap. K. K., the young Brahmin, over whose baptism we
so rejoiced, who seemed so brave, so true, who sat at our table
... and actually has been employed to _teach the Bible_, ... _he_
has apostatised; _he_ has become a fearful illustration of our
Lord’s most terrible parable,--“then taketh he (Satan) others
more wicked than himself,” etc. I am beginning to believe
that this wilful apostasy, after clear light given, is what
is spoken of in Heb. vi. I can remember no example, either
in the Bible or Mission-life, of any apostate deliberately
choosing to forsake Christ, after being received and welcomed,
being “renewed unto repentance.” We have had so many dreadful
backsliders,--who have never returned. Alas! alas!... In no case
_fear_ the motive, but worldliness or covetousness. When to
my surprise I heard that K. K. had fallen, my spirit could
not readily recover.... Poor dear N. C. began his sermon on
Sunday something like this,--“My spirit is heavy; I am very
sorrowful.” It was a brave sermon, nevertheless, about “holding
the fort.” But now he is the only Christian teacher in his
school; and we have to face the mockery of the exulting foe!
The matter is of course known all over the city. But the Lord
reigns, and all enemies shall--_must_--be put under His Feet.
Amongst those who _will_ rejoice will be those who are saddened
now, like your loving Char.’
* * * * *
‘_Oct. 25._--I want to tell you and dear Leila about the trial
in the Singha family, but wish to wait till I have had to-day’s
report of the state of Bini, the dear girl about fifteen, who
appears to be dying of consumption. Bini has perhaps never
recovered from the effects of the shock caused to her loving
heart by her mother, Mrs. Singha’s, unexpected death. The poor
child, arriving at the Batala station, heard suddenly that her
mother was dead.’
* * * * *
‘_Later._--I have just come from the Singhas. Bini lingers
still on this side of the river. She is more to be envied
than pitied. On Thursday, two days ago, her pain ceased.... She
was “quite happy,” “quite ready,” “why delay?” ... Last night
must have been a glorious night for Bini. She spoke to this
effect,--“I have been in Heaven, and saw Jesus Christ and
my Mother. I did not see the others; they were there, but
_somewhere upstairs_.” When some one spoke to Bini of her
“dream,” she did not like the word. “It was not a dream,” she
said.... If this be death, it is a blessed thing indeed!’
* * * * *
‘_Oct. 31._--You will see from my note to dear Mr. Baring that
sweet Bini’s long trial is over. With what joy she departed!
I am telling the story in villages and Zenanas. She who had
so little opportunity of working for God in her brief life,
bears powerful testimony now by her death to Muhammadan and
Hindu. To go joyously, in the morning of her life, to death,
as to a bridal,--this is a proof of the truth and power of
Christianity, which who can gainsay? I went on the day of
Bini’s departure to three Zenanas, which bigotry has closed. I
asked no leave but went in,--I was pretty sure of a hearing,
when I went to describe the death of Babu Singha’s daughter.
‘What a contrast between Christianity and Muhammadanism,
Hinduism, _any_ other religion! As Bini lay near her pure white
coffin, with flowery Crosses above her, a party of the rather
upper, educated men of Batala came to pay customary respect
to the bereaved father. They were taken right up to where the
white-clad form lay peacefully on a charpai.... At Bini’s funeral
the contrast was most striking; for as the white flowery
coffin was carried to its resting-place, we all singing hymns
of praise, the Hindus were--about fifty yards to the left of
us--burning a corpse. To the right, flowers and music; to the
left, fire. The miserable wail of the heathen over their dead
was not then heard; only our hymns, and then beautiful words
uttered over a peaceful grave.’
[Illustration: ‘SUNSET,’ A. L. O. E.’S THREE-ROOMED HOUSE]