A Lady of England 81

A Lady of England 81

‘“Can you write?”

 

‘He was weak in that, poor fellow. Having only one arm

increases the difficulty.

 

‘“Do you know accounts?”

 

‘“No,” he frankly owned; but he could learn; he would take

pains.

 

‘“You had better speak to the Padri Sahib; he makes all the

bandobast (arrangements); he is wise and kind.”

 

‘If _I_ would speak to the Padri Sahib,--he could tell _me_;

but with the Padri Sahib he was shy, etc.

 

‘It is rather refreshing to see a Native Christian, especially

one brought up to regard idleness rather as a virtue, turning

over in his mind what he can do to earn his living. If we

help poor M. to a little better education, perhaps his little

village school may prove not a bad idea, for the scholars

would learn what is good from him, though they could only

have elementary teaching. I do not see why rustics should

want high education. The Government are educating thousands

of clever infidels, who cannot all find employment as clerks,

etc., and who will despise manual labour. We want simple pious

_labourers_ to mind the plough, spell out their Testaments, and

try to obey God’s commands.’

 

August and September this year saw Miss Tucker, not at Dalhousie, but

at Dilur, 3000 feet above the sea, with forest-clothed Himalayan slopes

below, and snow above. She went there, partly for the change, but

more for the sake of staying with a young married couple, to whom her

companionship was a boon. The snow appears to have soon vanished, as in

one letter, written in September, she observes: ‘The mountains are quite

high and bold enough for beauty, though to my comfort there is not a

soupçon of snow upon any of them.’ From the budget of Dilur letters, only

two quotations can be given. The first is rare in style at this period of

Charlotte Tucker’s life. She seldom found time for written ‘cogitations.’

 

TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.

 

‘DILUR, _Aug. 25_.

 

‘This is a very quiet place ... so I have plenty of time for

thinking. I have been musing to-day why it is so very much more

easy to love some Christians than others. You and every other

servant of God must feel this, I think. It is not quite easy

to get at the bottom of the matter. I ought to have particular

facilities for judging; for, thank God, I find it easy to love

a good many.

 

‘I have been considering to-day that simile of the four

different circles round Him Who is the Centre of light,

holiness, and beauty. Those who live nearest to Him, I do

believe, actually catch something, however faint, of His

likeness.... Christ is the All-attractive; and in the degree that

His redeemed ones reflect His Image, it seems to me that they

unconsciously attract. If I be not mistaken in this idea, one

sees why anything of littleness or meanness repulses. Those

possessing such qualities may be sincere servants of Christ;

but these qualities _spoil all likeness_! So, love, here is the

result of my cogitations, as I reclined on the sofa to rest

myself after rather a tiring little expedition.

 

‘But oh, what a solemnising thought it is!--The likeness

to Him, which we _know_ will be apparent in another world,

to begin in this! The glass of our souls, so spotted and

dusty,--spotted with sin, and dusty with pettiness,--to be

cleansed and polished, so as to receive such an Image! But you

and I, love, have caught a glimpse of that Image in those whom

we have been privileged to know; have we not?’

 

TO MRS. HAMILTON.

 

‘_Sept. 29._

 

‘Yes, precious Laura, you might be sure that Char does not

forget you in prayer any day; but your last dear letter from

Ilfracombe made me more inclined to praise. It seemed as if

God had granted just what I wished for you; that spiritual joy

which is His special gift. Why should the Children of Light

tread the pilgrim way in heaviness? “Light is sown for the

righteous,” and the crop begins to show itself even here....’

 

Later, in the same letter, when speaking of two young converts, she says

of one of them:--

 

‘He is a Mullah’s (Muhammadan religious teacher’s) son, and

has been brought up in a fine school for bigotry. He told me

what a merit it is considered to kill infidels; and that, when

a child, he had intended to acquire this merit. “Do you mean

that, if they could, the Muhammadans would think it right

to kill all the Europeans and Native Christians?” I asked.

“Beshakh!” (Without doubt!) replied the lad simply. Happily all

Muhammadans are not Mullahs’ sons!’

 

* * * * *

 

‘BATALA, _Oct. 31, 1879_.--What shall I say for the splendid

box, which reached me in perfect condition to-night? I am

almost bewildered by the multitude of my possessions, and have

hardly yet quite realised their amount.... What shall I begin

with?--not the medicine, surely,--and yet quinine is such a

treasure in India, so often required, asked for! It is _the_

medicine in a fever-land. And it is dreadfully expensive. I

think that I once paid more than a guinea for a bottle, not a

large one. But the cretonne--yes, that must have a principal

place in my letter of thanks; such a splendid supply!...

 

‘I hope that my Laura will forgive me if I do not gobble up all

the groceries myself!! Of the chocolate and biscuit I shall

probably largely partake; they are such a comfort on winter

mornings....’

 

* * * * *

 

‘_Nov. 13._--I think that this is the fourth Anniversary of my

landing at Bombay,--my Indian birthday! Oh, how much I have to

be thankful for! Surely goodness and mercy have followed me!

 

‘Shall I give you a sketch of this my Indian birthday? Up

early--for I went to bed early. Ate two or three of my Laura’s

biscuits, and enjoyed them. Wrote till dear good R. brought the

hot water for my bath. Then came breakfast No. 2--tea and an

egg. At 7 A.M., or thereabouts, the prayer-bell rings, and we

all assemble in chapel. After chapel comes my delightful walk

in the fresh morning air. A little more writing and reading,

and--breakfast No. 3 with Mera Bhatija at 9. After that, off to

the city on foot, my kahars carrying my duli behind me.

 

‘In the city I visited first a Muhammadan Zenana, then paid my

weekly visit to our Brahmin convert, B.’s wife.... Then went to

G. R.’s Zenana, where are four generations of the family. I

can read the Gospel there, without let or hindrance. The sweet

young Bibi looked as if she would like me to kiss her,--so I

did! Then to Sadiq’s mother. After this I returned home, noted

down where I had been, and then--did _not_ set to my lessons.

I had something else to do. The cloth of our large screen was

dirty; so Mera Bhatija suggested our putting the pictures on a

nice clean one, and having the first white-washed. So I got in

my Ayah to help me, and we were stitching away like anything,

when I was interrupted by a visitor.

 

‘No fashionable lady,--no insipid individual, such as you must

talk to about weather, etc., but a fine, thoughtful young

Man,--who had been given a New Testament, which he is reading

every day, and who sat down on the floor, and quietly, gravely,

asked me to explain difficulties which he had met with in his

reading, such as Daniel’s “abomination of desolation,” the two

women grinding, etc.... When he left, I returned to my beauty

screen, but was interrupted by dear good Bibi M., who came to

read her report. She also wanted quinine,--I am _rich_, my

Laura knows. This brought me up to 3 o’clock dinner.

 

‘Poor N. N. is not well, so I had no afternoon lesson from a

Munshi, but I did a little by myself. Then out into the bright,

pleasant air, where I had a nice talk with dear I. and P. After

I came in, Mera Bhatija and I had tea,--now I am writing to my

Laura by lamplight; and when I lay down my pen, I intend to do

a little lessons. I have written out my vocabulary very large,

so as not to injure my eyes. At 8½ I shall hear the bell ring

for prayers; and that almost closes the day.

 

‘Now is not this a very nice Indian birthday? I feel quite well

and hearty now; much stronger than when in the Salt range.’

 

* * * * *

 

‘_Nov. 22._--Cold having set in pretty sharply, I have taken my

“graceful Grey” and faithful old Green out of their safe summer

quarters, and have prepared them for immediate service, putting

in lace to the sleeves, etc. The Episcopal Purple, my grand new

dress, I reserve for grand occasions. My dress must be well

fastened up, and decidedly more than clear the ground, when I

go to Zenanas. See me, in fancy, climbing slowly up a dirty

steep outside staircase. I have the indispensable umbrella in

one hand,--though it be winter, the sun may be blazing,--my

large books in the other. Unless I had a third hand, I could

not hold up my dress; and the steps may be of mud. Trains,

elegant in the house, would never do in Zenanas.... I hope

that you and dear Leila will be interested to hear that our

one-legged B., in search of a wife, has succeeded in finding

one. I think that their banns have been called twice; and we

shall probably see the happy pair next week.’