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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0e06404 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #54218 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/54218) diff --git a/old/54218-0.txt b/old/54218-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index d41db59..0000000 --- a/old/54218-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,22148 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Lady of England, by Agnes Giberne - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: A Lady of England - The Life and Letters of Charlotte Maria Tucker - -Author: Agnes Giberne - -Release Date: February 21, 2017 [EBook #54218] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A LADY OF ENGLAND *** - - - - -Produced by MWS and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from -images generously made available by The Internet -Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - -[Illustration: C. M. Tucker - -from a Photograph taken at Toronto in 1875. - -W. Notman Photo. Walker & Boutall, Ph.Sc.] - - - - - A LADY OF ENGLAND - - _THE LIFE AND LETTERS_ - OF - CHARLOTTE MARIA TUCKER - - BY - AGNES GIBERNE - - AUTHOR OF ‘SUN, MOON, AND STARS,’ ‘RADIANT SUNS,’ ETC. - - ‘_Nil desperandum_’ - - Motto of the Tucker Family - - NEW YORK - A. C. ARMSTRONG & SON - 51 EAST TENTH STREET - 1895 - - Edinburgh: T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to Her Majesty - - - - -AUTHOR’S PREFACE - - -The principal mass of materials for this Biography was placed in my -hands last summer by the Rev. W. F. Tucker Hamilton, nephew of Charlotte -Maria Tucker (A. L. O. E.), and since then many other relatives or -friends, both in England and in India, have contributed their share of -help, either in the way of written recollections or of correspondence. -A paucity of materials exists as to the early part of the life; but -in later years the difficulty is of a precisely opposite description, -arising from a superabundance of details. Hundreds of letters, more or -less interesting in themselves, have had to be put ruthlessly aside, to -make room for others of greater interest. From first to last the long -series between Charlotte Tucker and her own especial sister-friend, Mrs. -Hamilton, takes precedence of all other letters in point of freedom, -naturalness, and simplicity. The perfect trust and unshadowed devotion -which subsisted between these two form a rare and beautiful picture. - -It has seemed to me, and it may seem to others, that the main question in -the Life of Miss Tucker is, not so much what she _did_ here or there, -in England or in India, as what she _was_. Many a discussion has taken -place, and doubtless will again take place, as to the wisdom of her -modes of Missionary work, and as to the degree of success or non-success -which attended her labours. I have endeavoured to give fairly certain -opposite views upon this question, even while strongly impressed with the -conviction that no human being is capable of judging with respect to the -worth of work done in his own age and generation. Subtle consequences, -working below the surface, are often far more weighty, far more lasting, -than the most approved ‘results’ following immediately upon certain -efforts,--results which are, not seldom, found after a while to be of the -nature of mere froth. Nothing can be more unprofitable, usually, than -the task of endeavouring to ‘count conversions.’ It is of infinitely -greater importance to note with what absolute self-devotion Miss Tucker -entered into the toil, with what resolution she persevered in the face of -obstacles, with what eagerness she did the very utmost within her power. - -In writing the story of Miss Tucker’s life at Batala, it has been -impossible not to write also, in some degree, the story of the Infant -Church at Batala. My main object has of course been simply to show what -Charlotte Maria Tucker herself was; and Mission work, Mission incidents, -Missionaries themselves, come in merely incidentally, as part of the -background to her figure. Mention of them is accidental and fragmentary; -not systematic. At the same time there is no doubt that nothing would -have gratified Miss Tucker more than that any use should have been made -of her letters likely to help forward the great work of Missions among -the Heathen. Some years before the end, when in severe illness she -thought herself to be passing away, she spoke of the possibility that -her long correspondence about Batala might be so employed, and earnestly -hoped that, if it were so, no one-sided account should be given, but that -shadow as well as sunshine, the dark as well as the bright aspect, should -be frankly presented. I have endeavoured to carry out her wishes in this -particular. - -It is to be regretted that at least a few letters from Mrs. Hamilton to -Miss Tucker cannot be interspersed among the many from Miss Tucker to -Mrs. Hamilton. None, however, have come to hand. Before Miss Tucker went -to India she destroyed the bulk of her papers, after a ruthless fashion; -and it does not appear that while in India she kept any of the letters -that she received. - -After some hesitation I have decided to give generally the names in full -of those Missionaries, with whom she was most closely associated. I have -also decided _not_ to give the names of Indian Christians, with very -few exceptions,--as of the Head Master of the Native Boys’ School at -Batala, whom she counted a personal friend; also of one or two Ordained -Native Clergymen, and one or two contributors of slight material towards -this _Life_. In many instances it would be very difficult to decide -wisely at so great a distance, and without a knowledge of the individuals -themselves. It is therefore best to be on the safe side. Many of the -initials are the true initials; but many are not even that,--especially -in the case of those who are still Heathen or Muhammadan. - -In the spelling of Indian words and names I have endeavoured to follow -mainly the more modern plan, adopted of late years, except in the case -of a very few words which are practically Anglicised. Miss Tucker’s own -spelling of Indian words and names varies extremely; the word being often -given differently when occurring twice in a single page. The spelling has -therefore been altered throughout her correspondence. To avoid confusion -in the minds of English readers, I have also taken the same liberty with -letters from some others who have not adopted the modern mode. - -In conclusion, I have only to express my sincere thanks for the most kind -trouble taken by many friends of A. L. O. E. in contributing materials -for my guidance. - - AGNES GIBERNE. - -WORTON HOUSE, EASTBOURNE. - - - - -PREFACE - - -It would scarcely be fitting that this Volume should go forth to the -Public without a few words of Preface from one of A. L. O. E.’s own -family. - -Only my beloved Mother--the ‘Laura’ of these pages--could have penned the -words which should adequately tell all that my dear Aunt was to those who -knew her best and loved her most fondly. And _she_, little as she had -expected it, was the first of the two to be called Home. - -It has, however, been a great satisfaction to me to intrust the -preparation of the _Life_ to Miss Giberne; and I am glad to have this -opportunity of expressing my hearty appreciation of the literary skill, -the sympathy, and the fidelity to truth with which she has accomplished -her task. - -Averse as my Aunt ever was to any fuss being made about her, nothing -would have reconciled her to the publication of a Biography, save -the hope that its story might be used of God to stimulate others to -consecrate their lives to the Service of Christ, whether in the Foreign -or Home Mission Field. It is in such hope that it is now sent forth, with -the earnest prayer that HIS blessing may rest upon it. - - W. F. TUCKER HAMILTON. - -CHRIST CHURCH, WOKING. - -NOTE.--Any profits derived by A. L. O. E.’s relatives from the -publication of this volume will be apportioned among those Missionary -Societies in which she was especially interested. - - - - -CONTENTS - - - - PAGE - PART I - - LIFE IN ENGLAND - - CHAPTER I - - THE STORY OF HER FATHER 3 - - CHAPTER II - - CHILDHOOD AND GIRLHOOD 13 - - CHAPTER III - - EARLY WRITINGS 27 - - CHAPTER IV - - A ‘FARCE’ OF GIRLISH DAYS 39 - - CHAPTER V - - HOME LIFE 62 - - CHAPTER VI - - GRAVITY AND FUN 71 - - CHAPTER VII - - THE FIRST GREAT SORROW, AND THE FIRST BOOK 83 - - CHAPTER VIII - - CRIMEA, AND THE INDIAN MUTINY 100 - - CHAPTER IX - - LIFE’S EARLY AFTERNOON 112 - - CHAPTER X - - A HEAVY SHADOW 126 - - CHAPTER XI - - GIVING COMFORT TO OTHERS 137 - - CHAPTER XII - - THE OLD HOME BROKEN UP 146 - - CHAPTER XIII - - VARIOUS CHARACTERISTICS 159 - - CHAPTER XIV - - AN UNEXPECTED RESOLVE 173 - - CHAPTER XV - - BESIDE NIAGARA 184 - - PART II - - LIFE IN INDIA - - CHAPTER I - - FIRST ARRIVAL IN INDIA 197 - - CHAPTER II - - A HOME IN AMRITSAR 209 - - CHAPTER III - - CURIOUS WAYS 224 - - CHAPTER IV - - A PALACE FOR A HOME 239 - - CHAPTER V - - DISAPPOINTMENTS AND DELAYS 253 - - CHAPTER VI - - A BROWN AND WHITE ‘HAPPY FAMILY’ 267 - - CHAPTER VII - - PERSECUTIONS 282 - - CHAPTER VIII - - EARLY CHRISTIAN DAYS IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 299 - - CHAPTER IX - - THE CHURCH AT BATALA 318 - - CHAPTER X - - LOYAL AND TRUE 331 - - CHAPTER XI - - CLOUDS AFTER SUNSHINE 344 - - CHAPTER XII - - THE FIRST STONE OF BATALA CHURCH 359 - - CHAPTER XIII - - SOME OF A. L. O. E.’s POSSESSIONS 374 - - CHAPTER XIV - - ON THE RIVER’S BRINK 395 - - CHAPTER XV - - IN HARNESS ONCE MORE 410 - - CHAPTER XVI - - A VISIT FROM BISHOP FRENCH 427 - - CHAPTER XVII - - THE DAILY ROUND 445 - - CHAPTER XVIII - - IN OLD AGE 461 - - CHAPTER XIX - - LIGHT AT EVENTIDE 475 - - CHAPTER XX - - THE LAST GREAT SORROW 491 - - CHAPTER XXI - - THE HOME-GOING 503 - - LIST OF PRINCIPAL BOOKS BY A. L. O. E. 515 - - LIST OF SOME SMALL BOOKLETS BY A. L. O. E. 519 - - - - -PART I - -LIFE IN ENGLAND - - -‘Constant discipline in unnoticed ways, and the hidden spirit’s silent -unselfishness, becoming the hidden habit of the life, give to it its -true saintly beauty, and this is the result of care and lowly love in -little things. Perfection is attained most readily by this constancy of -religious faithfulness in all minor details of life, in the lines of -duty which fill up what remains to complete the likeness to our LORD, -consecrating the daily efforts of self-forgetting love.’--T. T. CARTER. - - - - -CHAPTER I - -A.D. 1771-1835 - -THE STORY OF HER FATHER - - -Charlotte Maria Tucker, known widely by her _nom de plume_ of A. L. -O. E.,--signifying A Lady Of England,--as the successful author of -numberless children’s books, deserves to be yet more extensively known -as the heroic Pioneer of elderly and Honorary volunteers in the broad -Mission-fields of our Church. - -Her books, which were much read and appreciated in the youth of the -present middle-aged generation, may to some extent have sunk into the -background, as the works of successive story-tellers do in the majority -of cases retire, each in turn, before newer names and newer styles; but -the splendid example set by Charlotte Tucker, at a time of life when -most people are intent upon retiring from work, and taking if they may -their ease,--an example of _then_ buckling on her armour afresh, and of -entering upon the toughest toil of all her busy life, will surely never -be forgotten. - -She was the sixth child and third daughter of Henry St. George Tucker, -a prominent Bengal Civilian, and, later on, Chairman of the East India -Company. All her five brothers went to India, and all five were there in -the dark days of the Mutiny. Thus by birth she had a close connection -with that great eastern branch of the British Empire, to which her last -eighteen years were entirely devoted. People in general go out early, -and retire to England for rest in old age. Miss Tucker spent fifty-four -active years in England, and then yielded her remaining powers to the -cause of our fellow-subjects in Hindustan. - -It seems desirable that a slight sketch of her father’s earlier life -should precede the story of hers. - -Henry St. George Tucker came into this world on the 15th of February -1771. He was born in the Bermudas, on the Isle St. George, whence his -name, and was the eldest of ten children. An interesting reference to -this event is found in a letter of Charlotte Tucker’s, written February -15, 1890: ‘As I went in my duli to villages this morning, I thought, “One -hundred and nineteen years ago a precious Baby was born in a distant -island”; and I thanked God for our beloved and honoured Father.’ - -Henry St. George’s father was a man of good descent, of high reputation, -and of a leading position in the islands. His mother, a Miss Bruere -before marriage,--probably the name was a corruption of _Bruyere_,--was -daughter of the then governor of the Bermudas, a gallant old soldier, -possessing fourteen children and also a particularly irascible temper. - -The elder Mr. Tucker appears to have been a man of gentle temperament -and liberal views; I do not mean ‘Liberal’ in the mere party sense, -but liberal as opposed to ‘illiberal.’ Whatever his own opinions may -have been, he did not endeavour to force them upon his children; he did -not, in fact, petrify the children’s little fancies by opposition into -a lasting existence. It is amusing to read of the opposite tendencies -among his boys, one taking the loyal side and another the republican -side in the dawning struggle between England and her American Colonies. -Long after, Henry St. George spoke of himself as having then been ‘a bit -of a rebel’; adding, ‘But my republican zeal was very much cooled by -the French Revolution; and if a spark of it had remained, our own most -contemptible revolution of 1830 would have extinguished it, and have -fixed me for life a determined Conservative.’ - -He had on the whole a strong constitution, though counted delicate as a -child; and his early life in the Bermudas was one of abundant fresh air -and exercise. Much more time was given to riding and boating than to -books; indeed, his education seems hardly to have been begun before the -age of ten years, when he was sent to school in England. Whether such -a plan would answer with the ordinary run of boys may well be doubted. -Henry St. George Tucker was not an ordinary boy; and he showed no signs -of loss in after-life through ten years of play at the beginning of it. - -One piece of advice given to him by his mother, when he was about to -start for England, cannot but cause a smile. She was at pains to assure -him that it would be unnecessary to take off his hat to every person -whom he might meet in the streets of London. Henry St. George, speaking -of this in later years, continues: ‘But habit is strong; and even now, -when I repair to the stables for my horse, I interchange bows with the -coachman and the ostlers and all the little idle urchins whom I encounter -in the mews.’ One would have been sorry indeed to see so graceful a habit -altered. It might far better be imitated. Exceeding courtesy was through -life characteristic of the man, and it descended in a marked degree upon -many of his descendants, notably so upon Charlotte Maria, the A. L. O. E. -of literature. - -School education, begun at ten, ended at fourteen. The boy worked hard, -and rose in his classes quickly; though at an after period he spoke of -his own learning in those days as ‘superficial.’ He had been intended by -his father for the legal profession, and many years of hard work were -supposed to lie before him. These plans were unexpectedly broken through. -One of his aunts, who lived in England, acting impulsively and without -authority, altered the whole course of his career. She asked him, ‘Would -he like to visit India?’ A more unnecessary question could hardly have -been put. What schoolboy of fourteen would _not_ ‘like to visit India’? -Young Henry seized upon the idea; and the said aunt, under the impression -that she was kindly relieving his father of needless school expenses, -actually shipped the lad off as middy in a merchant vessel bound for -India, not waiting to write and ask his father’s permission. She merely -wrote to say that the deed was done. - -Officious aunts do exist in the world; but surely few so officious as -this. The deepest displeasure was felt and shown when Henry’s father -learned what had happened. But by the time that his grieved remonstrances -reached the boy, Henry was fifteen thousand miles away, ‘hunting wild -animals on the plains of Behar.’ In the present day a boy so despatched -might be sent back again; but in those days India was separated from -England by a vast gulf of distance and of time. Any one writing from -India to England could not look for a reply in less than a year; and -his father was at Bermuda, not even at home, which made a further -complication. - -The boy’s condition must at first have been forlorn enough. After a -petted and luxurious boyhood, he had to live for months together upon -salt junk; and his bed was only a hencoop. But there was ‘stuff’ in -him, and hardships of all kinds were most pluckily endured. On landing -at Calcutta he found himself in a strange country, among strange faces, -without money and without work, though happily not quite without friends. -His mother’s brother, Mr. Bruere, was one of the Government Secretaries -in Calcutta; and in the house of Mr. Bruere and of Mr. Bruere’s pretty -little sylph-like wife the young adventurer found shelter for some -months, until an opening could be secured for him. - -Fifteen years followed of a hard and continuous struggle. As long after -he said of himself, he ‘looked the world in the face’ in those days; -and while a mere boy of fifteen or sixteen he set himself resolutely to -get on. From the first he grappled with the Native languages, showing a -vigour and persistency in the study which, many many years later, were -visible again in his daughter Charlotte, when grappling with the very -same task. Only he was young; and she, when she followed his example, was -well on in middle life. - -Towards the end of those fifteen years resolution and untiring energy -triumphed; and from the age of about thirty Mr. Tucker’s rise to a good -position was steady. - -In 1792 he became a member of the Bengal Civil Service. In 1809 he was -made Secretary in the Public Department. But he had had heavy work and -many troubles, and his health began to fail; so the following year, -after a quarter of a century of unbroken exile, he set off for England, -carrying with him Government testimonials, couched in the warmest terms. -These testimonials spoke of his ‘long and meritorious services,’ of his -‘peculiar abilities,’ of his ‘talents and acquirements of the highest -order,’ of his ‘unwearied diligence,’ of his ‘unimpeached integrity.’ All -this, of one who, twenty-five years before, had landed on Indian shores -an almost penniless adventurer, without so much as a definite plan of -what to do with himself and his energies! - -That very year he was engaged, and the year after he was married, to Jane -Boswell, daughter of a Mr. Robert Boswell of Edinburgh, who was related -to the well-known biographer of Dr. Johnson. The Boswell family was known -to have first settled in Berwickshire as far back as in the days of -William Rufus, and afterwards in Fifeshire and Ayrshire at Balmute and -Auchinleck. Mr. Robert Boswell’s grandmother, Lady Elisabeth Bruce, was -a daughter of the first Earl of Kincardine. Mr. Boswell was a devotedly -good and also an able man; a minister, not in the Scottish Presbyterian -Church, but in some smaller religious body; and his death took place in a -somewhat tragic manner, before the date of his daughter’s marriage to Mr. -Tucker. While preaching, he quoted the text which begins, ‘All flesh is -as grass----,’ and as he uttered the words he fell back, dead! - -A characteristic anecdote is told of his wife,--A. L. O. E.’s -grandmother. She had a large family, and was badly off. One day a poor -woman applied to her for help; and Mrs. Boswell called out to her -daughter Jane, to know what money they happened to have in hand. ‘Only -one seven-shilling piece,’ was the answer. Mrs. Boswell’s voice sounded -distinctly,--‘Give it, then; give it to the woman.’ ‘But, dear mamma, -there is no more money in the house,’ remonstrated Jane. More decisively -still came the response, ‘Give it, then; give it to the woman.’ And given -it was. The story almost inevitably recalls that of the Widow’s Mite; -even though from certain points of view one is dubious as to the wisdom -of the act. - -Despite the poverty of the family Mrs. Boswell’s daughters settled well -in life. One married Mr. Egerton of the High Court in Calcutta; one -married Dr. Roxburgh; one married General Carnegie; one married Mr. -Anderson; one only, Veronica by name, remained unmarried; and Jane became -the wife of Henry St. George Tucker. She was at that time a gentle and -beautiful girl of about twenty-one, while Mr. Tucker was already over -forty. - -Early in the following year, 1812, they went out to India together; and -his delight was great in returning to the country where he had toiled so -long, and had made many friends. This time, however, his stay in the east -was to be brief. - -His first child, Henry Carre, was born that same year; and two years -later came his eldest daughter, Sibella Jane. Also in 1814 fell the -blow of his Mother’s death, over which, strong man that he was, he wept -passionately. Then his wife’s health seemed to be seriously failing; -and this decided him to leave the land of his adoption, throwing up all -prospects in that direction. In 1815, the first year of European peace, -at the age of forty-five, he ‘retired from the active service of the -Company,’ travelling by long sea with his invalid wife and his two little -ones, and spending some time at the Cape by the way. Before they arrived -in England another little one, Frances Anne, had been added to their -number. - -A home was found in Charlotte Square, Edinburgh; and for some years, -till 1819 or 1820, he was well content to remain there, living a quiet -home-life, with a little family growing around him. Two more boys came, -George William and Robert Tudor,--the former dying in babyhood, the -latter growing up to be slain in the Indian Mutiny. Losing the infant -George was a dire trouble to his parents; and Mrs. Tucker, believing that -he had succumbed to the keen cold of Edinburgh, was never at rest in her -mind until the northern home had been exchanged for one in the south. -Such a change was not to be accomplished in a day, but in the course of -time it came about; and meanwhile the remaining children were a constant -source of interest and delight. The ‘baby’ at this date was Robert; -afterwards a very favourite elder brother of A. L. O. E. His children, -known in the family by the name of ‘The Robins,’ became in later years as -her own. - -Mr. Tucker could not long remain contented without definite work. He -was still in the prime of life, still under fifty; and an eager desire -took hold of him to enter public life once more, to serve again his own -country, as well as the eastern land of his adoption. These purposes -he thought might best be carried out by his becoming, if possible, one -of the Directors of the East India Company. For the fulfilment of his -desire--a desire, not for gain or wealth or position, but for the means -of doing good--he had to wait a considerable time. He had indeed to wait -until his next little daughter, CHARLOTTE MARIA, was five years old. -Then, at length, he was appointed Director; one of the Twenty-four who, -in those days, practically ruled India. Thereafter his influence was -steadfastly exerted in the direction of a wise and righteous government -of the dark millions of Hindustan; the land in which he had spent a -quarter of a century of his life, and to which afterward not only all his -five sons went, but one of his five daughters also, in the advanced years -of her life. - -While he waited for this long-desired appointment, other changes took -place. They left their home in Edinburgh and moved south, first spending -some months at Friern Hatch, in Barnet, near Finchley; and there it was -that little Charlotte first saw the light of day. In 1822 they went to -live in London, settling into No. 3 Upper Portland Place, whence no -further move was made until after the death of Mrs. Tucker, more than -forty-five years later. - -In Portland Place the family was completed. Two years after the birth of -Charlotte came her next brother, St. George; two years later still her -next sister, Dorothea Laura, her peculiar companion and friend. The three -youngest, William, Charlton, and Clara, finished the tale of ten living -children. - -Mr. Tucker was, as may have been already gathered, a man of unusual force -of character and of indomitable will; robust in body and mind; unwearying -in work; self-reliant, yet never presumptuous; an absolute gentleman, -remarkable for the polished courtesy of his bearing, alike to superiors, -equals, and inferiors in social position; open and straightforward as -daylight; firm in his own convictions, but well able to look on both -sides of a question, and liberal towards those who differed from him; -entirely fearless in doing what he held to be right, and entirely -free from all thought of self-seeking. He was, as his Biographer Mr. -Kaye observes,--‘pre-eminently a man amongst men,’--‘a statesman at -eighteen, and a statesman at eighty.’ He was also a man of deep and true -religion; a religion not much expressed in words, but apparent in every -inch of his career. In a letter written long after his death by his -daughter Charlotte, she remarked, when speaking of the biography of some -well-known man: ‘There is nothing to indicate that he ever said, as our -beloved Father said, “The publican’s prayer is the prayer of us all!”’ -Probably religious speech never came easily to him. His life, however, -spoke more eloquently than mere words could have done. - -One of his main characteristics was an abounding generosity. He was -always ready to help those who needed help, up to his power, and beyond -his power. In his own home he was charming; full of wit, full of fun, -full of gay spirits and laughter; full also of the tenderest affection -for his wife and children, an affection which was abundantly returned. -He was an intensely loving and lovable man; his wonderful sweetness and -evenness of temper, never disturbed by heavy work or pressing cares, -endearing him to all with whom he came in contact. While he talked little -of his own feelings, he did much for the good of others; and his life -was one long stretch of usefulness. The union in him of strength with -gentleness, of a masterful intellect with a spirit of yielding courtesy, -of nobility with playfulness, of generosity with self-restraint, of real -religious conviction and experience with frolicsome gaiety, made a -combination not more rare than beautiful. - -Many of his characteristics were distinctly inherited from him by his -daughter Charlotte; among others, his literary bent. He was fond of -writing, and in his well-occupied life he found some time to indulge the -play of his fancy. In the year 1835 he published a volume of plays and -enigmas, called _The Tragedies of Harold and Camoens_, dedicated to the -Duke of Wellington, for whom he and his family had the deepest esteem and -admiration. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -A.D. 1821-1835 - -CHILDHOOD AND GIRLHOOD - - -Charlotte Maria Tucker was born on the 8th of May 1821, not within the -sound of Bow bells, but, as already stated, at Friern Hatch, in Barnet, -no long time before the family settled down in Portland Place. - -Details of her very early life are greatly wanting. We should like to -know how the childish intellect began to develop; what first turned -her thoughts into the ‘writing line’; whether authorship came to her -spontaneously or no. But few records have been kept. - -It is not indeed difficult to imagine the general character of her -childhood. She was clever, quick-witted, full of fun, overflowing with -energy, abounding in life and vigour. One of a large and high-spirited -family, living in a home of comparative comfort and ease, and surrounded -by a wide circle of friends and acquaintances, Charlotte must have had a -happy childhood. - -Long years after, when old and wellnigh worn out with her Indian -campaign, she wrote-- - - ‘It seems curious to look back to the birthday sixty-one years - ago, when sweet Mother called me “her ten-years old.” Do you - remember my funny little cards of invitation to a feast of - liquorice-wine,--with possibly something else,-- - - ‘“This is the eighth of May, - Charlotte’s Happy Birthday.” - - ‘I would not change this time for that. What a proud ambitious - little creature I was! I have a pretty vivid recollection of my - own character in youth. I should have liked to climb high and - be famous.’ - -In another letter she alludes to the fact that as a child she had been -accused of ‘liking to ride her high horse.’ - -No doubt in those early days her ambition pointed to higher game than -children’s tales written ‘with a purpose.’ - -In the gay young family party, two daughters and two sons were older -than herself. Of the latter the nearest in age was Robert, four years -her senior, the future dying hero of the Indian Mutiny. ‘Our noble -Robert’ she calls him long after; and there appears to have been an early -and close tie between Robert and his ambitious, eager little sister. -Of Fanny, too, the next sister above her in age, two years older than -Robert, she was particularly fond. But _the_ tie in her life which was -most of all to her, perhaps taking precedence of even her passionate love -for her Father, was the bond between herself and Laura, the next youngest -sister, about four years her junior. From infancy to old age these two -were one, loving each other with an absolutely unbroken and unclouded -devotion. - -The two were counted to some extent alike, though with differences. Laura -was the gentler, the more self-distrustful, the more disposed to lean. -Charlotte was the more impulsive, the more eager, the more energetic, the -more independent, the more self-reliant. In fact, Charlotte never did -‘lean’ upon anybody. Both were equally full of spirits and of frolicsome -fun. - -In another letter from India to this sister, dated January 18, 1886, when -referring to a recent illness, she wrote-- - - ‘My memory is very acute. I thought lately that it was a great - shame that I never should go back to dear old No. 3, which - really was the happy home of our childhood before our griefs. - So what do you think, Laura dear, I did lately? I acted over - in my mind Christmas Day, as in the old times, when you and - I were girls. I do not think that I left out anything; our - jumping on dearest Mother’s bed; the new Silver;[1] the Holly - and the Mistletoe; the Christmas Box; the choosing the gowns; - the Cake, etc. Then I went to Trinity Church; I heard the - glorious old hymn, “High let us swell triumphant notes.” It - was such a nice meditation. Then Aunt Anderson and her dear - daughters came for dinner. Of course Aunt had her little yellow - sugar-plum box!’ - -It is a pretty and vivid description of the olden days in that dear -old home, always spoken of among themselves as ‘Number Three,’ which -she loved ardently to the last. Charlotte’s affections for everything -connected with her youth were of a very enduring nature. - -Another short extract from her later letters may be given here, -describing something of what the loved sister Laura was to her in those -early days. It is dated December 10, 1892. - - ‘My Laura loved me so fondly; we were so close to each other. - How we used to share each other’s thoughts from youth, as we - shared the same room! Our honoured Father loved to hear his - Laura’s merry ringing laugh; when we chatted together he would - say to her favourite sister,’--meaning herself--‘“_She combines - so much._” I doubt that he saw any imperfection in a being so - bright, so sweet.’ - -And in yet one more letter to this same Laura, dated November 1, 1884-- - - ‘You underrate your own qualifications as a companion, darling. - Don’t I know you of old, how playful and genial you are, as - well as loving?... You are choice company for a _tête-à-tête_.’ - -The earliest writing of Charlotte’s which comes to hand is indorsed, -‘Charlotte, 1832,’ and is addressed to ‘Miss D. L. Tucker, 3 Upper -Portland Place.’ It is a valentine written to her sister; and it -shows that at the early age of eleven she had at least begun a little -versifying; usually the line first adopted by incipient authors. - - ‘The snow-drops sweet that grace the plain - Are emblems, love, of you, - With innocence and beauty blest - Pure as the morning dew. - - ‘Sweet rosebud, free from every storm - Of life, may peace incline - To hover ever round thy bed, - My dearest Valentine.’ - -Another early effort, undated, but possibly a year or two later, is -addressed, ‘To Dolly, the sweet little bud of the morn,’--no doubt to the -same favourite sister, Dorothea Laura. - - ‘Sweet bud of the morning, what poet can speak - The glories that beam in thy eye? - The rosebuds that bloom on thy fat little cheek,-- - And thy round head so stuffed full of Latin and Greek, - Arithmetic and Geology. - - ‘I send you a character-teller, my love, - ’Tis little and poor, but it may - My kindness, affection, _etcetera_, prove, - And show you, my dear little Dolly, I strove - To make mine a happy birthday.’ - -What the ‘character-teller’ may have been it is difficult even to -conjecture. Since Laura was four years her junior, the Latin, Greek -and Geology were of course meant in the symbolical sense, standing for -learning in general. - -One more apparently early effort remains; not this time versification, -but a birthday letter to Laura, inscribed, ‘To my dear Lady Emma, from -her affectionate Tosti.’ Why Lady Emma?--and why Tosti? In these three -effusions the handwritings are curiously unlike one another, though all -are childish. One is large and unformed; another is small and cramped; -the third is neat and of a copperplate description. It may be that her -writing was long before it crystallized into any definite shape; often -the case with many-sided people. But for the juvenile handwriting, it -would be almost impossible to believe that the following middle-aged -production was not written in later years. Children were, however, in -those days taught to express themselves like grown people; and no doubt -she counted that she had accomplished her task well. - - ‘Many joyful returns of this day to you, dearest Laura, and - may each find you better and happier than the last. I send you - a little piece of velvet, which you may find useful, for I do - not think you will value a present only for the money it costs; - and I dare say you will agree with me that a _trifle_ from an - affectionate friend is often more valuable than great gifts - from those who love you not. - - ‘I hope, dearest Lautie, you may enjoy _a very particularly_ - happy birthday, and that you may have as few sorrows in - the year you are just entering as in that you have just - passed.--Accept my kindest love, and believe me to be - - ‘Your affectionate friend and sister, - - ‘C. M. T.’ - -This letter may have been some years later than the two copies of verses; -but that hardly does away with the difficulty. The style is almost as -pedantic for the age of sixteen or seventeen as for the age of ten or -twelve. - -Side by side with the intense devotion for her sister Laura, there was -a considerable degree of reticence in Charlotte’s nature. It may have -developed more fully as time went on; yet it must surely have been a -part of herself even in childhood. It was not with her a superficial -reserve, an acted reticence, such as may sometimes be seen in essentially -shallow women. On the surface she was free, frank, chatty, quick in -response, ready to converse, full of liveliness, fun, and repartee. But -underlying the freedom and brightness there was a habit of silence about -her own affairs--that is to say, about affairs which concerned only and -exclusively herself--which to some extent was a life-long characteristic. - -Neither Charlotte nor any of her sisters ever went to school. Their -father had a very pronounced objection to schools for girls; indeed, he -had himself made an early resolution never to marry any girl who had -been educated at school, and he kept that resolution. The same idea -was followed out with his own daughters. A daily governess came in to -superintend their studies; and occasional masters were provided. In -reference to the latter Charlotte wrote, many years afterward, to a -niece: ‘No one can do as much for us in the way of education as we can do -for ourselves. A willing mind is like a steam-engine, and carries one on -famously. When I was young my beloved parents did not feel able to give -us many masters. We knew that, and it made us more anxious to profit by -what we had.’ - -Twenty-five years of hard toil in India had not made a rich man of Mr. -Tucker; nor did his position as a Director bring him wealth. It was his -daughter’s pride in after-life to know that he had died comparatively -poor, because of his inviolable sense of honour. Not that more money -would not have been acceptable! Ten children, including five sons, to be -launched in life, are a serious pull upon any purse of ordinary capacity; -and Mr. Tucker was of an essentially generous nature. He had many -relatives, many friends, and the demands upon his purse were numerous. On -a certain occasion he gave away about _one-quarter of his whole capital_, -a sum amounting to several thousands of pounds, to help a relative in a -great emergency. One who met him immediately afterwards spoke of his -appearing to have suddenly grown into an old man. - -In Charlotte’s earlier years anxiety as to money matters was often -experienced; and recurring Christmastides saw a repeated difficulty in -making both ends meet. This state of things continued up till about the -year 1837, when an unlooked-for legacy was left to Mr. Tucker, as a -token of great esteem, by a friend, Mr. Brough. Besides the main legacy -to Mr. and Mrs. Tucker, the sum of two hundred pounds came to each of -the children, and was treated as a ‘nest-egg’ for each. From this date -serious pressure ceased, and Mr. Tucker became able to meet the various -calls upon him; not indeed without care and economy, but without a -perpetual weight of uneasiness. Some few years later another friend, Mr. -Maclew, left another legacy in the same kind and unexpected manner. - -These facts serve to explain the paucity of masters when Charlotte was -young. But the sisters bravely accepted the condition of things, and -worked hard to make up for any disadvantages. One distinct gain in such -a home education was that at least they were free to develop each in her -own natural lines, instead of being all trimmed as far as possible into -one shape. - -Charlotte’s ‘lines’ were many in number. - -She had a marked talent for drawing, and could take likenesses of her -friends; good as regarded the salient features, though apt to grow into -more of caricatures than the young artist intended. Musical gifts also -were hers, including an almost painfully sensitive ear. Though her voice -was never really very good, she sang much; and while well able to take a -second at sight, she was in after years equally ready to undertake any -other part in a glee, inclusive of the bass, which often fell to her -share when a man’s voice happened to be lacking. - -A gift for teaching showed itself early; and as a child she would try -to impress geographical facts upon her younger brothers and sisters -by an original system of her own. In the Park Crescent Gardens, near -Portland Place,--their playground; described by one friend in those days -as a “jungle,” because of its unkempt condition,--she would name one bed -England, another France, another Germany, and so on, and would thus fix -in the children’s minds their various positions, though the shapes and -sizes of the beds were by no means always what they ought to have been. -That the mode of instruction was effective is evident from the fact that -her brother, Mr. St. George Tucker, can recall the lessons still, after -the lapse of fifty years, and can say, ‘By that means I learnt that -England was in the north-west corner of Europe.’ - -Another direction in which she excelled was that of dancing. Even in -walking she possessed a peculiarly springy step, remarked by all who knew -her; and this in dancing was a great advantage. She was at home alike in -the dignified minuet and in the active _gavotte_, and she would perform -the _pas de basque_ with much spirit. Indeed dancing was an exercise in -which she found immense enjoyment through half a century of life. - -At home Charlotte was a leader in the games, herself flowing over with -fun and frolic. Her fertile imagination left her never at a loss for -schemes of amusement. Naturally eager, impulsive, vehement, she had from -beginning to end an extraordinary amount of energy, and in childhood her -vigour must have been almost untirable. - -One can imagine how the house echoed with the gay voices and laughter -of the young people, as they pursued their various games, led by the -indefatigable Charlotte. Mr. Tucker loved the sound of those merry -voices; and when he could join them he was probably the merriest of the -whole party. At one period, heavy and long-continued work in ‘clearing -up the finances’ of the East India Company kept him much apart from the -family circle; and the delight was great when he could leave his big dry -books, and be as a boy among the children again. - -Bella, the elder girl, was pretty and of gracious manners, with dark -eyes, and with a capacity for dressing herself well upon the very -moderate allowance which her father was able to bestow. Fanny, the next -sister, though not at all handsome, had also soft dark eyes, and a -peculiarly sweet disposition; and she too dressed nicely. It was commonly -said amongst themselves that Fanny was ‘the gentle sister,’ and that -Charlotte was ‘the clever heroic sister.’ But Charlotte was not gifted -with the art of dressing well. - -In those early days, and for many a year afterwards, it would not appear -that gentleness or sweetness were characteristics belonging to Charlotte. -They were of far later growth, developing only under long pressure of -loss and trial. In her childhood and girlhood, though doubtless she -_could_ be both winning and tender to the few whom she intensely loved, -yet it was impossible to describe her generally by any such adjectives. -She was chiefly remarkable for her spring and energy, her originality and -cleverness, her wild spirits, and her lofty determination. With all her -liveliness, however, she was in no sense a madcap, being thoroughly a -lady. - -In appearance Charlotte was never good-looking; and in girlhood she could -not have been pretty; though there was always an indescribable charm in -the vivid life and the ever-varying expression of her face. - -One friend remembers hearing her tell a story of her young days, bearing -upon this question of personal appearance. With a mirror and a hand-glass -she examined her own face, the profile as well as the full face, and -evidently she was not satisfied with the result. A wise resolution -followed. Since she ‘could never be pretty,’ she determined that she -‘would try to be good, and to do all the good in the world that she -could.’ It was a resolve well carried out. - -This sounds like a curious echo of an early experience of her father. -When a boy of about ten, he caught smallpox, and ‘came forth,’ as he -related of himself long after, ‘most wofully disfigured.... “Well,” -observed one of my aunts, “you have now, Henry, lost all your good looks, -and you have nothing for it but to make yourself agreeable by your -manners and accomplishments.” Here was cold comfort; but the words made -an impression upon my mind, and may possibly have had some influence on -my future life.’ - -And much the same thought is reproduced in Charlotte Tucker’s own clever -and amusing little book, _My Neighbour’s Shoes_,--when, as Archie gazes -into the mirror, he says of himself, ‘One thing is evident; as I can’t be -admired for my beauty, I must make myself liked in some other way. I’ll -be a jolly good-natured little soul.’ - -In girlish days it may have been a prominent idea with Charlotte. By -nature she not only was impulsive, but she no doubt inherited some -measure of her great-grandfather Bruere’s irascible temper; and the -amount of self-control speedily developed by one of so impetuous a -temperament is remarkable. High principle had sway at a very early age; -but this thought, that her lack of good looks might be compensated for -by good humour and kindness to others, may also have been a motive of -considerable power in the formation of her character. - -It must be added that not all thought so ill of her looks as Charlotte -herself did. An artist of repute, who saw her in the later days of her -Indian career, has said unhesitatingly, in reply to a query on this -subject,--‘Plain! No! A face with such a look of intellect as Miss -Tucker’s could never be plain.’ If matters were thus in old age, the same -might surely have been said when she was young. But beauty of feature she -did not possess. - -In addition to her other gifts, Charlotte had something at least of -dramatic power, and in her own home-circle she was a spirited actress. - -Mr. Tucker’s published volume of plays and enigmas has been already -named. Both _Harold_ and _Camoens_ were acted by the young folk of the -family, with the rest of their number for audience. It is uncertain -whether any outside friends were admitted on these occasions. - -In the second play Charlotte took the part of the heroine, Theodora; -and her brother, St. George, took the part of Ferdinand. Camoens, the -hero, is betrayed to the Inquisition by Theodora; the betrayal being -caused by a fit of fierce jealousy on the part of Theodora, who loves, -and is apparently loved by, Camoens. The jealousy has some foundation, -since Camoens decides to marry, not Theodora but Clara. Theodora in her -wrath is helped by another lover, Ferdinand, to carry out her plot, and -together they bring a false charge against Ferdinand, who is speedily -landed in the dungeons of the Inquisition. Theodora then, finding that -Clara does not love Camoens, and repenting too late her deed, goes mad -with remorse. Camoens is after all set at liberty, none the worse for -his imprisonment; but the distracted Theodora, meeting her other lover -and her companion in evil-doing, Ferdinand, attacks him vehemently, with -these words-- - - ‘THEOD. Ha! Ferdinand! - Thou hast recalled a name! - It brings some dreadful recollections. - ’Twas he who basely did betray my husband. - Go, wretched man! bring back the murdered Camoens! - Go, make thy peace. (_She stabs him._) - - BIAN. Oh! help! - - FERD. I bless the hand that gave the wound. - Thou hast redeemed me from a deadly sin, - Or mortal suffering. - Farewell, beloved unhappy Theodora. - Guard her, ye pitying angels! - - THEOD. Where am I? - What have I done? - I have some strange impression of a dream-- - A fearful dream of death. - Young Ferdinand, who loved me! - Dead--dead--and by this desperate hand!’ - -After which Clara enters, and Theodora dies, completing the tragedy. One -can picture the force and energy with which Charlotte would have poured -forth her reproaches upon the head of Ferdinand, before giving him the -fatal stab. - -It may have been somewhere about this time--it was at all events before -the year 1842--that Charlotte had once a scientific fit, and for several -weeks threw herself with ardour into the study of Chemistry. At intervals -in her life a marked interest is shown in certain scientific facts or -subjects; sufficient, perhaps, to indicate that, had the bent been -cultivated, she might possibly have shown some measure of power in that -direction also. Books on Natural History always proved an attraction to -her; and many little Natural History facts come incidentally into her -correspondence, sometimes given from her own observation. In later years -she even wrote two or three little books for children on semi-scientific -subjects,--not without making mistakes, from the common error of trusting -to old instead of to new authorities. But the early influences with which -she was surrounded were not of a kind to call forth this tendency, if -indeed it existed in any but a very slight degree. Her Father’s bent was -strongly poetical and classical; and probably his influence over her mind -in girlhood was stronger than any other. The poetic and the scientific -may, and sometimes do, exist side by side; but the combination is not -very usual. - -A great event of Charlotte’s young days was the fancy-dress ball given -by her parents in the spring of 1835. The Duke of Wellington himself was -present; prominent still in the minds of men as the Deliverer of Europe, -only twenty years earlier, from a tyrant’s thraldom. All the young -Tuckers, not to speak of their parents, were ardent admirers of the Duke. -Laura, still a mere child, in her enthusiasm slipped close up behind, -when the Duke was ascending the stairs, and gently abstracted a fallen -hair from the shoulder of the hero, which hair she preserved ever after -among her choicest treasures; and Charlotte was no whit behind Laura in -this devotion. - -At the ball Frances made her appearance dressed as Queen -Elizabeth,--‘very neat and very stately,’--while Charlotte represented -‘the star of the morning,’ in a dress of pure muslin, full and well -starched, so nicely made and so beautifully white that the impression of -it lasts still in the mind of a brother, after the lapse of more than -half a century. The prettiness of her dress on that particular occasion -was no doubt accentuated by the fact that in general Charlotte did _not_ -attire herself becomingly; and also by the fact of another young lady -being present as a second ‘star of the morning.’ For the other ‘star’ -had hired a dress for the evening; a muslin dress, which was by no means -white, but dingy and tumbled. In contrast, Charlotte’s pure whiteness, -relieved by a star upon her forehead, drew much attention. Since she was -then only a girl of about fourteen, it appears that a close distinction -was not drawn in those days, as in these, between girls ‘out’ and girls -‘not out.’ Her brother, St. George, a boy of twelve or thirteen, was -also present, wearing a Highland costume. - -The hero of the day appeared in evening dress, according to the then -fashion, with a star on his breast. Frances, in her queenly apparel, -presented him with a bag which contained a Commission to defend -England,--a business which, one is disposed to think, he had already -pretty well accomplished! The Duke received this offering graciously; and -a day or two later the following playful letter arrived from him to Mr. -Tucker:-- - - ‘STRATHFIELDSAYE. - _Ap. 26, 1835._ - - ‘MY DEAR SIR,--When Queen Elizabeth gave me that beautiful - bag on Friday night, I was not aware that it contained a - Letter Patent which I prize highly; and for which I ought to - have returned my grateful acknowledgment at the time it was - delivered. - - ‘I beg you to present my thanks; and to express my hopes that - her Majesty continued to enjoy the pleasures of the evening; - and that she has not been fatigued by them. - - ‘Ever, my dear Sir, - - ‘Your most faithful humble servant, - - (Signed) ‘WELLINGTON. - - ‘H. St. George Tucker, Esq., etc.’ - -The delight and enthusiasm amongst the young people, aroused by this -letter, may be imagined. It seems to have come later into the possession -of Charlotte; and when she went to India it was presented by her to her -sister Laura,--the envelope which contained it having in Charlotte’s -handwriting the following inscription:-- - -‘_What I consider one of my most valuable possessions, and therefore send -to my beloved Laura, to whom it will recall past days._’ - - - - -CHAPTER III - -A.D. 1835-1848 - -EARLY WRITINGS - - -One after another the brothers of Charlotte went out to India. Henry -Carre, the eldest, well known in Indian story, had left in 1831, when she -was only ten years old; and in 1835 her particular companion, Robert, -went also. He was a tall, handsome young fellow; and though only eighteen -years old, he had already done well in his studies. At Haileybury his -remarkable abilities won him the admiration of the Professors; and at his -last examination for the Civil Service he signalised himself by actually -carrying off _four_ gold medals. - -Among other gifts he had a keen touch of satire, and a power of easy -versification. Some of the early verses preserved show considerable -power, and are very spirited as well as amusing. A main feature of his -character was, however, his intense earnestness. He was of the same stern -and heroic cast of mind as Charlotte herself; with perhaps less fun and -sparkle to lighten the sternness. Like her, he was markedly self-reliant, -and was never known to lean upon the opinion of others. - -With all Charlotte’s gaiety and merriment, her delight in dancing and -acting, and her love of games, there was a stern side, even in those -early days, to her girlish nature; and in this respect she and Robert -were well suited the one to the other. She was, as one says who knew her -well, ‘a born heroine’; indeed, both she and Robert were of the stuff of -which in former centuries martyrs have been made. - -At what date Charlotte first began to think seriously upon religious -questions it is not possible to say. Probably at a very early age. -Underlying her high spirits was a stratum of deep thought; and strong -principle seems almost from the beginning to have held control over her -life. One of her brothers speaks of her as ‘always religious.’ She may -have thought and may have felt to any extent, without expression in words -of what she thought or felt. The innate reticence, which veiled so much -of herself from others, would naturally in early years extend itself to -matters of religion. Later in life reserve broke down in that direction; -but silence in girlhood was no proof whatever of indifference. - -An undated letter to her niece, Miss Laura Veronica Tucker, written in -middle life, gives us something of a clue here. - - ‘I am much interested in hearing from your dear Mother that you - are so soon to take upon you the vows made for you in Baptism, - and I wish specially to remember you, my love, in prayer on the - 18th. - - ‘To-morrow, too, you attain the age of fifteen.... I was about - your age, dear Laura, when the feeling of being His--of indeed - having the Saviour as _my own_ Saviour, came upon me like a - flood of daylight. I was so happy! This was a little time - before my Confirmation. Though I have often often done wrong - since, and shed many many tears, I have never _quite_ lost the - light shed on me then, and now it brightens all the future, - so that I can scarcely say that I have any care as regards - myself--the Lord will take care of me in advancing age--in - the last sickness--in what is called death, (it is only its - shadow).’ - -To the majority of people religious conviction and experience come as -daylight comes; not in one sudden burst, but gradually, heralded by grey -dawn, slowly unfolding into brightness. Brought up as Charlotte was -in an atmosphere of kindness, of gentleness, of unselfish thought for -others, of generosity, of high principle, and of most real religion, -albeit not much talked about, she would naturally imbibe the latter -almost unconsciously, and as naturally would say little. The spiritual -life, begun early in her, would expand and develop year by year, as fresh -influences came, each in turn helping to shape the young ardent nature. - -She was essentially independent; one who would of necessity think -questions out for herself, and form her own opinions; and when an -opinion was once formed, she would act in accordance with that opinion, -fearlessly and conscientiously. All this came as a logical result of what -she was in herself. But the very independence was of gradual growth; and -side by side with it existed always a spirit of beautiful and reverent -submission to her Father and Mother. - -Although she never published anything during her Father’s -lifetime--whether because she was slow to recognise her own capabilities, -or because he failed to encourage the idea, does not distinctly -appear,--her pen was often busy. A small magazine or serial in -manuscript, for family use, was early started among the brothers and -sisters, and to this, as might be expected, Charlotte was a frequent -contributor. - -She also wrote several plays, following in her Father’s footsteps; and -some of these are extant, not _written_ but exquisitely printed by her -own hand. She was indeed an adept at such printing, as at many other -things; and one amusing story is told anent this particular gift. About -1840, when her brother St. George was at Haileybury College, the latter -wrote an essay, which was copied for him by Charlotte in small printed -characters. Whereupon a rumour went through the College that one of -the competitors had actually had his essay printed for the occasion. -Inquiries were made; and the ‘printed copy’ was discovered to be the -essay of Mr. St. George Tucker. - -The earliest in date of these unpublished plays, composed for the -entertainment of the home-circle, appears to have been _The Iron Mask_; -achieved in 1839, when Charlotte was about eighteen years old. It was -‘Dedicated, with the fondest esteem and affection, to her beloved Father, -Henry St. George Tucker, to whom she is indebted for the outline of the -characters and plot, by the Author, Charlotte Maria Tucker.’ By which -Dedication may be plainly seen that Mr. Tucker encouraged his daughter’s -literary bent, so far as actual writing went, though he does not seem -to have helped her into print. The Preface to this early work is quaint -enough to be worth quoting. The young Author had evidently studied Miss -Edgeworth’s style. - - ‘I cannot pretend to offer that most common excuse of - Authors that their works have been written in great haste - and consequently under great disadvantages. I have been a - considerable time about my little performance, and its defects - are not owing to want of care or attention on my part. - - ‘I once had thoughts of myself writing a Critique on _The Iron - Mask_, to show that I am sensible of its faults, though I do - not think I have _the power_ to remove at least all of them. - But I have dropped the idea, and am determined to leave them to - be found out, or perhaps overlooked, by the eye of partiality - and affection.’ - -The play is, of course, historical, and is of considerable length. One -short quotation may be given as a specimen of her girlish powers, taken -from Scene II. - - ‘_Apartment in the Castle of Chateaurouge: a grated window seen in - the background._ - - The Iron Mask. - - ‘The glorious Sun hath reached the farthest west, - And clouds transparent tipt with living fire - Hang o’er his glory, bright’ning to the close. - Now gently-falling dews refresh the earth, - And pensive Silence, hand in hand with Night, - Already claims her reign. - - Another day - Has past! another weary weary day, - And I am so much nearer to my grave! - Oh that I could, like yon broad setting Sun, - For one day tread the path of Liberty, - For one day shine a blessing to my Country, - Then, like him, set in glory! - Still come they not?--then Chateaurouge deceived me! - He said e’er sunset that they must be here, - And I have watched from the first blush of morn, - Before the lark his cheerful matins sung, - Before the glorious traveller of the skies - Had with one ray of gold illumed the east, - And still they come not!--’Tis in vain to watch, - They will not come to-night!--my sinking heart - For one day more must sicken in suspense.’ - -The writing of the play as a whole is unequal,--what girl of eighteen is -not unequal?--but in these lines,as well as elsewhere, there are tokens -of genuine power, alike poetical and dramatic. - -Next came, in the year 1840, _The Fatal Vow; a Tragedy in Three Acts_; -on the title-page of which is found a dedication--‘To Jane Tucker; the -Mother who in the bloom of youth and beauty devoted herself to her -children, and whose tender care can never by them be repaid.’ The play -was written in less than two months; its scene being laid in Arabia, -while the characters are of Arabian nationality. It is an ambitious and -spirited effort for a girl under twenty. - -Two years later she wrote another, _The Pretender; a Farce in Two Acts_; -respectfully dedicated to ‘Fair Isabella, the Flower of the East.’ This -witty and amusing little farce shall be given entire in the next chapter, -as a fair example of what she was able to accomplish at the age of -twenty-one. It also shows conclusively her love of fun, and the manner in -which she delighted in any play upon words. - -In 1842, the same year which saw her produce _The Pretender_, her brother -St. George went out to India; and two years later a paper of extracts -from different letters, in her handwriting, records the sister’s loving -pride in the warm opinions sent home about that brother. Also the same -paper contains an account of an affair in which he was engaged; but the -said account not being correct in all details, I give it in different -words. - -In 1844, one year and a quarter after the arrival of Mr. St. George -Tucker in India, he volunteered to assist his joint magistrate, Mr. -Robert Thornhill, to capture the celebrated dacoit,[2] Khansah. Upon -the receipt of further orders from his chief magistrate, Mr. Thornhill -decided not to make the attempt. Mr. Tucker, however, having volunteered, -thought it was his duty to go; and go he did, accompanied by a -Thannadar,[3] four horsemen, and some Burkandahs. On a January morning, -in early dawn, they reached the village in which the dacoit leader, -Khansah, was supposed to be concealed; and after many inquiries they -induced an alarmed little native boy to point out silently which hut -sheltered Khansah. - -Leaving the horsemen and the Burkandahs outside, Mr. Tucker and the -Thannadar went into the courtyard of the house. In the darkness of the -entry to one of the huts stood Khansah, holding a loaded blunderbuss. At -first he was unperceived; but suddenly the Thannadar exclaimed, ‘There -he is!’ and as Mr. Tucker turned to the right, Khansah fired off the -blunderbuss. The Thannadar dropped dead; and Mr. Tucker’s right arm -fell helpless, from a wound in the shoulder. He climbed quickly over -the low walls of a roofless hut, then turned about, and with his left -hand steadying the right hand on the top of the outer wall, he fired his -pistol at the dacoit,--and missed him. Mr. Tucker then went round the -back of the hut to a tree which stood near the entrance; and shortly -afterward Khansah came out, calling--‘Kill the Sahib!’ A struggle -followed between Khansah and one of the native police, which lasted some -three or four minutes. Then Khansah, having apparently had enough, made -away on the Thannadar’s pony; and Mr. Tucker, regaining his own horse, -rode back to the station, accompanied by the Burkandahs and horsemen, who -had carefully kept in the background when most needed, but whose courage -returned so soon as the peril was over. - -Eighteen months later an offer was made by Government of ten thousand -rupees to any one who should give up Khansah,--the dacoit being a very -notorious robber and murderer. His own relatives responded promptly -to this appeal, and Khansah speedily found himself in durance vile. -Mr. Tucker failed to identify the man in Court; but other evidence was -forthcoming, and Khansah, being convicted, was hung. Charlotte, when -noting down particulars of the above stirring episode, observes: ‘We -cannot feel too thankful to a merciful God for my precious George’s -preservation.’ The brief account which she copied out from the letter -of a friend in India ends with these words: ‘My husband tells me he -(Mr. Tucker) acted with great spirit, and showed much cool, determined -courage, and deserved great credit; but from being almost a stranger -to the habits of this country, he failed in his attempt to capture the -dacoit.’ - -Another paper of copied extracts has a particular interest, because it -seems to show, even then, a dawning sense in the mind of Charlotte Tucker -of the needs of heathen and semi-heathen lands. The sheet is dated 1844; -and the passages are selected from a book of the day, called _Savage -Life and Scenes_. But probably at that period nothing was further from -her dreams than that she herself would ever go out as a missionary to the -East. - -The following undated letters belong to the years 1846-7. A little -sentence in the first, as to the solution of Mr. Tucker’s enigma, is very -characteristic of one who through life was always peculiarly ready to -give praise to others. - -TO MISS D. LAURA TUCKER. - - ‘How sweet, good, and kind you are! I hardly know how to thank - you and dearest Mother for _such_ notes as I have received from - both, but I truly feel your kindness at my heart.... - - ‘My eye is exceedingly improved. Such a fuss has been made - about it here by my affectionate Fannies, that one might - suppose that, like your friend Polyphemus, I had but one eye, - and that as rudely treated as was his by Ulysses. - - ‘We think that the solution of my noble Father’s enigma is - “Glass” or “Mirror.” Fanny was the first to imagine this. As - for going to Gresford the 3rd of next month, I do not wish to - be one of the party at all, at all! I calculate that Robin - will then have been on the waves 76 days; and though I do not - expect him till October, the S---- _may_ be a fast sailer, and - fast sailers _have_ accomplished the whole voyage in about that - time, I believe. I drink the port wine which Papa brought down, - which I hope may serve instead of bark.’ - -TO MISS SIBELLA J. TUCKER. - - ‘Having concluded my reading of old Russell, how can I do - better than employ the interval before the arrival of the - Indian letters in sitting down and writing to my fair absent - sister? Colonel Sykes let me know last night that Robin would - not come by _this_ mail, which was, he says, only from Bombay, - so that letters being all we must expect before Saturday - fortnight, you need not hurry home on account of Robin’s return. - - ‘Now doubtless you would like to hear a little how the world in - Portland Place has been going on since your fair countenance - disappeared from our horizon. In the first place _all_ the - three Misses ---- are coming. A comical party we shall have! - There has been no letter from Lord Metcalfe yet, that I know - of. We had a very nice evening yesterday. I wish that yours - may have been equally agreeable. The beginning was by no means - the worst part of it. I dressed early, and while Mamma and - Fanny were upstairs, Charlie and I enjoyed quite a stream of - melody from my dear Father, who sang us more than twenty songs, - most of which I had never heard before. I wonder that he did - not sing his throat quite dry, particularly after a Wednesday’s - work. I must now write Lautie an account of the Ball.’ - -TO MISS D. L. TUCKER. - - ‘Well, dearest Lautie, we had a nice Ball last night. There - were the Vukeels of S----, with their dark intelligent - countenances, Colonel Sykes, your friend, who is really - becoming quite a friend of mine, and honest, handsome Sir Henry - Pottinger, the very look of whom does one good. I chatted with - both the latter amusing gentlemen, and heard from Sir Henry a - circumstantial account of his attack of gout, when, he said: - “I felt as though I could have roared like a bull.” Sir Henry - thinks that ladies should have a glass of champagne after - _every_ dance, quadrille, waltz, or polka! “You would see,” - said he, “if my plan were followed, how many ladies would - come.” ... Papa has had applications for cadetships from Lord - Jocelyn and H---- T----. I suppose that in both cases it will - be, “I wish you may get it!”’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘We have had such an amusing breakfast. Lord Glenelg was here. - And he and Mamma have been making us laugh so,--he with his - quiet jokes, and dear Mamma with her _naïveté_. Mamma very - freely criticised Sir R. Peel’s and Lord John Russell’s manner - of speaking, to the great amusement of our guest, who threw out - a hint that he might inform, and that Mamma had compromised - herself. “It would be rather awkward,” he observed, “if I - were to sit beside Sir Robert this evening,[4] after what - has passed”; and when he heard that Sir Robert was not to be - present, he hinted that Mamma was in the same danger in regard - to Lord John Russell. “But if I tell him that he opens his - mouth too wide,” said Lord Glenelg, “he may think I mean that - he eats too much!” - - ‘I am sure that our guest enjoyed his morning’s gossip, and it - gave us all a merry commencement to what I hope may be a very - enjoyable though rather anxious day. Tudor is to take luncheon - with us, so we have amusement provided for that meal also; - and what a business it will be in the evening! Such a phalanx - of ladies as dear Mother is to head. The Misses Cotton, two - Misses Galloway, two Misses Shepherd, Miss Kensington, and our - three selves, all to set off from No. 3! It will look like a - nocturnal wedding. - - ‘I have just come in from paying a round of visits, with a card - of admission in my hand.... My hand trembles with the heat, for - it is warm walking at this hour, and I always walk fast when I - walk in the streets alone. I look forward with much pleasure - to the evening’s entertainment. I only wish that you and dear - Bella could enjoy it too; but I hope that _your_ dinner in - September may afford you as much gratification as this would - have done.... - - ‘We ... went to Mrs. Bellasis’ Ball last night. Mamma and I - thought it a nice one, but ---- considered it very dull. The - Eastwicks were not there, but your friend, Colonel Sykes, - appeared, with his stern bandit-like countenance. He so reminds - me of you! His fair lady and sons were also there.... Sir de Lacy - and Lady Evans, the Hinxmans and Galloways were also at the - Ball. - - ‘How are the dear little Robins? I hope that we may soon have - them with us again. Pray give them plenty of kisses from Auntie - Charlotte.... I hope dear Robin got home comfortably.’ - -Some of the above-mentioned names were of men well and widely known. Lord -Metcalfe, at one time Acting Governor-General of India, was a wise and -most courteous Indian statesman, whose life has been written by Sir John -Kaye. Colonel Sykes was one year Chairman of the Court of Directors. Sir -Henry Pottinger was a famous diplomatist. Lord Glenelg, living near, was -often in and out, and loved to have a cup of tea at hospitable No. 3. - -The habit of the family at this time, while spending the main part of the -year at Portland Place, was to go to some country place in the summer, -for several weeks, sometimes renting a house where they could stay all -together, sometimes breaking into smaller parties. In 1846 they were at -Herne Bay; in 1847 at Gresford; in 1848 at Dover and Walmer. While at -Walmer they were a good deal thrown with the Duke of Wellington, and the -former acquaintanceship ripened into more of intimacy. Before deciding on -Walmer, two or three of the party went to Dover, and they had a somewhat -perilous voyage thither, to which the following letter makes allusion:-- - -TO MISS D. LAURA TUCKER. - - ‘I hope that you will all write us very affectionate letters - of congratulation on our escape from the waves. How talented - it was in Mamma to manage to send us letters so soon! We had - no idea of hearing from home by 6 o’clock on Monday morning. - We are all quite well. I was not well yesterday morning,--I - imagine from the effects of our adventure; but I am, like the - rest of our dear party, quite well to-day. - - ‘We are to set out in a pony-chaise for Walmer, to see about a - house. Papa is to drive, and I have no doubt but that we shall - have a delightful little excursion. - - ‘The immense cliff is a great objection to Dover. Unless we - undergo the great fatigue of getting up it, we should be quite - prisoners. Walmer is _much_ flatter. We are anxious to hear - what has become of the poor _Emerald_. She landed us here on - Saturday morning, and proceeded on her perilous journey at - about five in the afternoon. Papa saw the carpenter’s wife, - who told him that the leak could not be got at because of the - coals, that they would not get to Boulogne, but must return - in two hours. The poor woman’s husband was in the vessel. She - said that her eyes were tired with looking at the steamer, but - philosophically observed that those who are doomed to sup salt - water must sup it. The _Emerald_ has _not_ returned, however. - It is probable that she has put in to some other port. I should - like to hear about her fate. I should feel for our kind sailor. - - ‘My darling Papa has rather taken fright at Mamma’s letter. He - fears that she is not well, that she has been hysterical at the - thought of our danger, and seems anxious to go up to London - himself, in order to assist her and see about her. Fanny and I - expostulate. He is the best of husbands and fathers. I hope, - however, that dearest Mamma is _not_ unwell, and that the - sea-air may do her good and strengthen her. Another objection - to Dover is that the voyage is likely to be rougher to it than - to Walmer. Walmer is not situated so near that terrible South - Foreland.... This is Papa’s opinion, but we cannot decide till we - see Walmer.’ - -Further particulars of the adventure alluded to are unfortunately not -forthcoming. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -A FARCE OF GIRLISH DAYS - - - THE PRETENDER; - - A FARCE IN TWO ACTS; by CHARLOTTE MARIA TUCKER. - - -_Characters_:-- - - COLONEL STUMPLEY. - CHARLES. - DARESBY. - CORPORAL CATCHUP. - WEASEL--A Butler. - O’SHANNON--A Soldier. - MRS. JUDITH RATTLETON. - MISS SOPHIA RATTLETON. - MISS BARBARA RATTLETON. - MISS HORATIA RATTLETON. - -_Scene laid in Northumberland, in and near the house of Mrs. Judith._ - - -ACT I. - - -SCENE I. - -THE HIGHROAD BEFORE MRS. JUDITH’S HOUSE. - -_Enter CHARLES._ - -CHARLES. A cold, wet, and misty evening, and above all to one -whose pockets are not lined! My foolish fancy for the Stage has -brought me to a declining stage, if not a stage of decline. -Heigh ho! how dark it is getting! Just the sort of place to meet -with a ghost of Hamlet, not the sort of hamlet that I’m looking -after, for I have done with theatrical effects,--I wish that -I had done with the effects of cold. How dark and gloomy that -church steeple looks over the trees! I’m close to a churchyard, -I suppose. And--ey! ey! what on earth are those white things -upon the grass? Clothes put out to dry; what an ass I was not to -see that before! but fasting makes one nervous. There’s a house. -How cheerful the lights look in it! I hear the sound of a piano -going. There must be ladies there, and ladies are ever good and -kind. What if I were to try my fortune at the door? My poor -namesake Prince Charlie must have put wanderers into fashion. -Northumberland is near enough to Scotland to have imbibed a -little of its spirit of romance. Poor Prince! we are fellows in -misfortune as we were partners in ambition. We both sought to -play the King, I on the boards, he in Britain; but his frea-king -and my moc-king are both changed to aching on the moors, and a -skul-king too, which makes us as thin as skeletons. I’ll try and -muster up courage for a knock. [_Knocks._] - -I should not look the worse for a new coat, I think. My -knee-ribbons are bleached quite pale with the wind and the rain. -_Mais n’importe!_ the man, the man remains the same! These locks -have proved the keys to a Lady’s heart e’er now; and then wit -and eloquence! When I was flogged at school for affirming that -a furbelow must be an article, as I knew it to be an article of -dress, my Master observed that all my brains lay at the root of -my tongue; and the best position for them too, say I! Who would -keep a prompter to bellow to one from the top of the Monument, -and where’s the use of carrying one’s brains so high, that one -must send a carrier pigeon express for one’s thoughts before one -can express them at all? Better have wit to cover ignorance, -than silence to conceal sense. One can’t squint into a man’s -head to see what it contains. Here comes a light to the door: -now for the encounter. - -_WEASEL opens the door._ - -Is Mrs. [_coughs_] at home? Pray present my compliments to her, -and say that a gentleman who has lost his way entreats the -favour of shelter for a night under her hospitable roof. - -WEASEL. Shall I take up your name, Sir? - -CHARLES. No, Sir, you may take up my words. [_Exit WEASEL._] -Had the fellow been a Constable he might have taken me up -also, for in this apparel I look more like a highwayman than a -gentleman in a highway. How very cold it is! I wish that the -triangular-nosed fellow would make haste; and yet my heart -misgives me. I must ‘screw my courage to the sticking point!’ -Impudence, impudence is my passport! I hear him shuffling -downstairs. Be hardy, bold, and resolute, my heart. - -_WEASEL opens the door._ - -WEASEL. Sir, my Mistress begs you to walk up. - -CHARLES. Go on, go on, I’ll follow thee! [_Exeunt._] - - -SCENE II. - -THE PARLOUR OF MRS. JUDITH’S HOUSE. - -_CHARLES. MRS. JUDITH. THE MISSES SOPHIA, BARBARA, and HORATIA -RATTLETON._ - -CHARLES. For all this unmerited kindness, most kind and fair -ladies, a lonely wanderer can only return you thanks. - -[_The young Ladies whisper together._] - -SOPHIA. Handsome, isn’t he? - -HORATIA. Such a flow of eloquence, such a command of language. - -BARBARA. I wonder, Ratty, who he is. - -MRS. JUD. Do you come from the North, Sir? - -CHARLES. I have spent the last few months there, Madam, though I -was not born in Scotland. They were unfortunate months to me. I -came to England on my Company’s being broken up. - -HORATIA. Your Company! did you serve King George? - -CHARLES. No, Miss, I tried to serve myself. - -HORATIA. [_Aside to Barbara._] Strange, is it not? - -SOPHIA. Why was your company broken up? - -CHARLES. Because we were not able to raise a Sovereign amongst -us. We were sadly cut up. - -HORATIA. [_Eagerly._] By the Dragoons? - -CHARLES. [_Laughing._] Do not inquire too closely, fair Lady. - -MRS. JUD. May I ask your name, Sir? - -CHARLES. Charles Stu-- [_Aside._] Ass that I am! - -MRS. JUD. I beg your pardon, Sir, I did not hear you. - -CHARLES. [_Aside._] The first word that comes! [_Aloud._] -Dapple, Madam, Dapple. [_Aside._] I might have hit on a more -romantic name, but my brain seems in a whirl. - -HORATIA. It is a very curious study to trace the derivations.... - -MRS. JUD. Any way related to the Dapples of.... - -SOPHIA. Down, Adonis, down! your dirty little paws.... - -HORATIA. One would suppose them sometimes prophetical of future -events. Who can deny that Hanover.... - -BARBARA. Our family name of.... - -HORATIA. [_Raising her voice._] Who can deny that Hanover has a -great resemblance to Hand-over, or that Cumberland is as just a -denomination for the bloody Duke as if.... - -SOPHIA. Pretty little pet he is, is he not? - -BARBARA. Our family name of Rattleton is said to be derived from -a famous Ancestor of ours, a chief of the ancient Britons.... - -MRS. JUD. My Cousin by the Mother’s side.... - -BARBARA. Whose head being cleft from his shoulders as he was -driving his chariot into the thickest of.... - -MRS. JUD. The family of the Goslings.... - -HORATIA. Also passionately fond of Heraldry.... - -BARBARA. His spirit seemed unconquered even by the blow which -decapitated him, and he drove on.... - -HORATIA. A Lion rampant over 6 grasshoppers.... - -BARBARA. Whence our name of Rattle-ton or Rattle-on is said to -be derived. - -CHARLES. [_Aside._] This is beyond endurance. They stun me. What -a nest of parrots I am in! I cannot get in a word. - -HORATIA. Thus, Sir, your name of ... I beg your pardon, Sir, it -has slipped my memory. - -CHARLES. [_Aside._] Hang me, if it has not fairly bolted from -mine! - -MRS. JUD. Mr. Charles Dapple. - -CHARLES. [_Aside._] I’ll change the conversation. [_To -Horatia._] You seem much devoted, Miss, to scientific pursuits. - -HORATIA. O, they are my delight, my recreation! Ornithology, -Mythology, Geology, Conchology, fascinate me. I was first given -my taste for the higher branches of these intellectual sciences -by.... - -SOPHIA. Mr. Dapple, have you remarked my pretty little.... - -HORATIA. My Uncle in the Scilly Isles, whose mind.... - -SOPHIA. Have you remarked.... - -HORATIA. A profound genius.... - -SOPHIA. My little poodle, Adonis? - -HORATIA. By-the-by, Mr. Dapple, may I ask your opinion on a much -disputed point, where I venture to differ even from my Uncle? -What do you think of the Aerolites? - -CHARLES. [_Turning to Sophia._] A sweet little dog, indeed: what -fine eyes! - -HORATIA. Do you think them.... - -CHARLES. The little pink ribbon round its neck is so becoming. - -HORATIA. [_Raising her voice._] Mr. Dapple, Mr. Dapple, do you -think the Aerolites.... - -CHARLES. [_Aside._] Help me, my mother-wits! - -HORATIA. Do you agree in the generally received opinion.... - -CHARLES. [_Aside._] Some political party perhaps! - -HORATIA. Or do you think them.... - -CHARLES. Why, ma’am, I think--I--I am decidedly of -opinion--that--that--the.... - -HORATIA. The Aerolites.... - -CHARLES. Are nothing more or less than Jacobites. - -ALL THE LADIES. Jacobites! - -HORATIA. Why, Sir, I always thought them a sort of stone.... - -CHARLES. Stone-fruit, true, true; I spoke without thinking. -Stone-fruit, a species of--of--apricots. - -BARBARA. Hark, there is a knock at the door. Peep through the -shutters, Ratty, and see who it is. - -CHARLES. [_Aside._] A little diversion for me. I am growing so -hot. Silence to cover sense would in this case.... - -HORATIA. ’Tis old Colonel Stumply. - -CHARLES. [_Starting up._] Colonel Stumply! I’m dished. - -THE LADIES. Why--what--who---- - -CHARLES. Perhaps you will permit me, ladies, to retire. I feel -indisposed--faint! [_Exit._] - -MRS. JUD. I must go and welcome my old friend. [_Exit._] - -HORATIA. Bab! - -BARBARA. Ratty! - -HORATIA. What a flash of electricity has burst on my intellect! - -SOPHIA. His noble air; his wan features.... - -HORATIA. A fugitive.... - -SOPHIA. A wanderer.... - -HORATIA. His sudden alarm.... - -SOPHIA. [_Rushing into her arms._] O Ratty, Ratty, what a day! -what an honour! what a surprise! - -BARBARA. How now, what’s the matter? - -HORATIA. Brain of adamant! could not instinct direct you to the -feet of your adored Prince? - -BARBARA. The Prince! Is it possible? - -SOPHIA. Charlie! Charlie! O! what a moment! - -HORATIA. Did you not hear him describe the ruin of his army.... - -SOPHIA. Did you not hear ‘Charles Stew--’ upon his noble -tongue.... - -HORATIA. How he started when he recollected himself.... - -SOPHIA. And O, how exquisitely pathetic, how touchingly -appropriate, the name he gave instead! Dapple; to signify how -his fortunes are chequered--Dapple.... - -BARBARA. How the Jacobites were running in his head when he -even.... - -SOPHIA. Little reason had he to fear us. If Daresby had been -here.... - -BARBARA. And this vile Colonel: no wonder he started off! - -SOPHIA. What shall we do to get rid of him? - -HORATIA. All that woman ever attempted I am ready to perform. - -SOPHIA. I would die for him. - -BARBARA. And I too. - -SOPHIA. The handsome, brave, dear, darling young Prince! And to -think that Daresby’s a Whig! - -_Enter MRS. JUDITH and COL. STUMPLY._ - -COL. Good evening, young Ladies, good evening. I have just -returned from the North, where we are everywhere triumphant, and -our laurels should ensure us a welcome from beauty. ‘None but -the brave, none but the brave deserve the fair,’ you know. Hey, -Miss Sophy? - -SOPHIA. [_Aside._] Monster! - -HORATIA. [_Aside._] Traitor! - -BARBARA. [_Aside._] Butcher! - -COL. What, all silent and aghast? I shall begin to fear myself -unwelcome. Hey, Mrs. Judith? But my Regiment is quartered for -the night in the village, and I was sure that I might throw -myself on the hospitality of an old friend. - -MRS. JUD. We are delighted to see you. - -COL. Is your little room unoccupied to-night? - -MRS. JUD. To tell the truth there is a young.... - -HORATIA. [_Aside._] I could beat her! [_Aloud._] It is quite -unoccupied, Sir, except--except in this cold weather we keep the -pigs there. - -COL. The pigs! - -MRS. JUD. Why, Ratty.... - -HORATIA. Oh, it is not fit to receive you, Sir. The chimney -tumbled in during the last gale.... - -MRS. JUD. Why, Ratty.... - -HORATIA. And every pane of glass is broken. - -SOPHIA. [_Aside to Barbara._] O Bab, such lying can never -thrive. - -MRS. JUD. What strange non.... - -HORATIA. [_Aside._] How on earth can I stop her tongue? -[_Aloud._] Aunt, Aunt, is there any supper prepared for the -Colonel? - -COL. Anything; anything; the cold ride has sharpened my -appetite; but a good blaze like this cheers the heart, and gives -me courage to face even the pigs, Miss Ratty! - -MRS. JUD. The pigs! why.... - -HORATIA. Would you like to see that everything is comfortable -yourself, Aunt? [_Aside._] I am in a fever! - -COL. Turn out the pigs, hey, Mrs. Judith? - -MRS. JUD. If I ever.... - -HORATIA. Go, dear Aunt, precious Aunt, do go. - -SOPHIA. A nice little dish of your own making would be so -acceptable. - -BARBARA. We’ll take care of the Colonel. - -MRS. JUD. I cannot com--pre--hend--I---- [_The girls half lead, -half push her out._] - -COL. You will excuse me, young ladies; I always make a point of -looking after my horse myself. [_Exit._] - -HORATIA. [_Sinking on a chair._] I am exhausted. Stupid sticks, -why did you not assist me? - -SOPHIA. I tried, but.... - -BARBARA. What shall we do now? - -SOPHIA. My heart beats so, I shall expire. - -BARBARA. The Colonel will stay in spite of the pigs. - -SOPHIA. Where can we hide the Prince? - -HORATIA. [_Starting up._] A thought has struck me. - -SOPHIA. What, what? - -HORATIA. You shall hear--it has been done before. You will aid -me in the execution of it. - -SOPHIA. [_Throwing herself into her arms._] O my Ratty! - -HORATIA. We will save him. - -BARBARA. We will, we will! - -HORATIA. Or perish with him. - -SOPHIA. We will. - -HORATIA. Come, come, no time is to be lost; let us fly to his -succour. - - ‘Come weal, come woe, - We’ll gather and go, - And live or die wi’ Charlie!’ - - -SCENE III. - -A CHURCHYARD BY MOONLIGHT. - -_Enter CHARLES, SOPHIA, BARBARA, and HORATIA._ - -CHARLES. Where on earth are you taking me? - -SOPHIA. To safety, to safety. - -BARBARA. We know all. - -CHARLES. You know all? - -HORATIA. Your name, your situation.... - -CHARLES. Then you must know that the coming of the Colonel is -hangably inconvenient to me. - -SOPHIA. We tremble at your danger. - -HORATIA. We will defend you with our lives. - -CHARLES. Excessively kind, but it is not quite come to that yet. -A kick or a caning.... - -SOPHIA. You make us shudder. - -CHARLES. But I do not like promenading at this hour in winter! -Is it a country fashion? I am very cold, and tired, and sleepy, -and I would rather retire to rest. - -HORATIA. Here then we have arrived at the spot. Descend, and you -will find a bed prepared for you. - -CHARLES. Descend! why, hang me if it isn’t a vault! - -SOPHIA. If it would please you to descend.... - -CHARLES. Please me, you barbarous witches! would it please any -one to be buried alive? What on earth do you mean? - -BARBARA. The only way to preserve your rights.... - -CHARLES. Rites, do you call these rites? They are very inhuman -rites. Anything but the rites of hospitality. To offer a -stranger the shelter of your roof, and then make his bed in a -vault! This is your spare-room, is it? If I had guessed what you -meant to do with your guest, I would not have troubled you with -my company. - -HORATIA. O, for your Country’s sake.... - -CHARLES. My Country’s sake! what good can it do my Country? I -know your motives, you scientific Monster! you want to make a -petrifaction of me. - -HORATIA. Is it possible that a treatment so.... - -CHARLES. A treat meant is it? If you mean it for a treat, I -assure you that I do not consider it as one. You may go in -yourself and enjoy it. - -BARBARA. So short a space ... - -CHARLES. A very short space I can see, and a very narrow space -too. I’ll be hanged if I get into it! - -HORATIA. Who could have expected opposition from such a quarter? - -SOPHIA. Can the Hero shrink from so small a trial of his -constancy? Oh, descend, descend, and we will admire.... - -CHARLES. Add mire, you cruel wretches! is there not enough at -the bottom already? - -HORATIA. We would preserve you. - -CHARLES. Didn’t I say so? Some inhuman experiment! But I’ll not -be preserved to please you, not I. - -SOPHIA. [_Throwing herself at his feet._] O noblest of men! -doubt not our fidelity! yield to our agonized entreaties! - -[_The others kneel._] - -CHARLES. Yield, indeed! I beg you will rise, fair Ladies. I -know not if you are jesting; ’tis but a cold jest to me. As for -entering that vault, you may kill me before you bury me, for -while I’m alive I’ll not go, Ladies; I say I will not go. - -HORATIA. Then we must leave him to his fate. - -CHARLES. Leave me, leave me, all alone in a churchyard. Ladies, -ladies, for pity’s sake.... - -HORATIA. I am beside myself. - -CHARLES. Remain then beside me. Or rather, why cannot we return -to the house? I am half frozen with cold and ... and excitement! - -BARBARA. You forget the Colonel. - -CHARLES. The Colonel. O, is that all? Can’t you hide me in some -quiet corner? - -HORATIA. I have it! the storeroom. - -BARBARA. But if a search should be made? - -CHARLES. Search! who’ll search? The storeroom is the very place. -Come, come, the air is piercing; come. - -BARBARA. This way; by the kitchen door. - -CHARLES. Once more into the house, dear friends, once more. -[_Exit._] - -HORATIA. Is this the Prince? the Hero? - -SOPHIA. O Ratty! our duty remains the same! [_Exeunt._] - - -ACT II. - - -SCENE I. - -THE PARLOUR. - -COLONEL STUMPLY. WEASEL. - -COL. Good-morrow, Weasel. An old campaigner, you see, learns to -be an early riser. - -WEASEL. I wish your honour a good morning. I hope you found your -room comfortable. - -COL. Most comfortable. No traces of the pigs, ha, ha! none the -worse for the chimney-top; ha, ha, ha! That Comet has a tail, I -guess. Well, Weasel, how has all gone on these two years, since -I last found myself at Rattleton Hermitage? Hey? - -WEASEL. Much the same as usual, your honour. Our only varieties -are Dr. Daresby and the rheumatics; till last night when.... - -COL. The girls--the young Ladies seem much grown, much improved. - -WEASEL. O, for the matter of that, yes, though Miss Ratty’s -sadly taken up with the books, d’ye see. She’s poring all -day long over a lot of different sorts of learnings; I don’t -remember their names, but they all ends in _oddity_. Then she’s -an out and out Jacobite, and thumps the piano when she sings -‘Charlie is my darling,’ as though she took it for a Whig. -Indeed, your honour, last night.... - -COL. And Miss Barbara? - -WEASEL. She’s quiet like, Sir. She’s never off her chair -stitching away. They says, your honour, that she makes holes on -purpose to sew them up again, d’ye see? - -COL. Sophy--Miss Rattleton is a charming girl. - -WEASEL. Ah, so thinks some one else. Did your honour ever see -young Dr. Daresby? - -COL. No, what of him? - -WEASEL. O, nothing, Sir. But they walks alone together, and -sings duets together, and he gave her the little poodle, and -they says, your honour, d’ye see.... - -COL. Yes, yes, I understand. - -WEASEL. She always feeds that fat little dog herself, your -honour. She gives it slices of bread and strawberry jam. But -she’s a good young Lady, Sir. Often I sees her going to the -cottages with her little pink bag filled with the good things -which Mrs. Judith makes. (I knows that from Mrs. Marjory who -has to wash out the grease-spots every day for Miss Sophy.) And -there she goes mincing along with her long veil hanging behind, -and her little poodle running on before her. But may I make bold -to ask how Master Stumply is? He was a very little boy when.... - -COL. Not a word of him, Weasel, not a word of him! He’s a -wayward ... don’t speak of him! folly and indiscretion have been -his bane. - -WEASEL. [_Shaking his head._] There’s some others I know seem -running the same road. - -COL. How? Who? - -WEASEL. O, it is not for me to say, your honour. - -COL. Speak; explain yourself. - -WEASEL. I dare say ’twas all a frolic, your honour, but there -were odd doings here yesterday. - -COL. Tell me, tell me. - -WEASEL. [_Mysteriously._] Perhaps as an old friend of the Family -your honour ought to know all, and such a rum affair.... - -COL. Go on, go on. - -WEASEL. Well then, your honour, yesterday was a cold evening, -d’ye see, and as I was stirring the kitchen fire there comes a -knock, and I goes to the door, your honour. - -COL. Well. - -WEASEL. There stands a tall, genteel-like lad with a ragged -coat. And he would give me no name, but he said he was a -Wanderer, and asked for a night’s lodging. So Mrs. Judith, who -never can refuse any one, ordered the spare bed to be got ready -for him. - -COL. So I turned him out, hey, Weasel? There’s the secret of the -pigs; but why this mystery? - -WEASEL. Mystery, Sir, ay, that’s the word; but if your honour -was to hear what followed! - -COL. What? where did they put him? - -WEASEL. [_Lowering his voice._] When it was night, your honour, -what sees I through the chink of the kitchen door in the passage -but the three young Ladies lugging along a great bundle, and -stopping and panting and puffing? So says I, I’ll see to the -bottom of this, so I pops out suddenly and says, ‘Can I help -you, Misses?’ quite civil like. But O Sir, how Miss Sophy -trembled and turned as white as a lily, and Miss Ratty stamped -and sent me to the village--at that hour, your honour, company -in the house--the ground covered with frost--I subject to the -rheumatics--and what for, d’ye think? to get her twopenceworth -of shoe-ribbon, your honour; and when I brought it, would you -believe it?--she roared out that it was too narrow and sent me -back again. - -COL. Most strange! most unaccountable! Have you any guess what -was in the bundle? - -WEASEL. I winked at it, your honour. There was a mattress and -blankets, I’m sure. - -COL. For the Stranger, I suppose. But this mystery! I cannot -understand it. Where could they be going? - -WEASEL. To the churchyard, I thinks. - -COL. The churchyard! - -WEASEL. Why, your honour, they certainly did not go into the -kitchen, and the back-door leads straight across the yard to the -Church, and the vault would be no bad hiding-place, your honour. -Miss Ratty has hid there herself, I knows, when the dentist was -here. - -COL. Have you no other clue? What an extraordinary affair! - -WEASEL. Why, Sir--your honour, last night Mrs. Marjory overheard -Miss Ratty whispering Miss Sophy, and she said, Sir.... - -COL. What? speak out! - -WEASEL. ‘As long as the Colonel remains here the Prince must -keep concealed.’ - -COL. [_Springing up._] The Prince! ha, ha! I smell a rat! the -Pretender! the Pretender! if there was ever such luck, such -fortune! Hang me if I could not--but there’s not an instant to -be lost. Fly, Weasel, to the village. Bid Corporal Catchup and -a dozen stout fellows be with me directly. Fly, I say, and if -it be all as I hope, I’ll cram you with gold till you choke. -Begone! Fly! [_Exit WEASEL._] Thirty thousand pounds and a -baronetship! Sir Stephen Stumply! Ah, if that wayward boy--the -Pretender! the Pretender! he’s in a net, in a net, and I’ll be -hanged if I let him out of it. [_Exit._] - - -SCENE II. - -THE DRAWING-ROOM. - -_Enter HORATIA._ - -HORATIA. What a sleepless night I have passed, what anxiety, -what excitement! and yet how unlike is he to what I had -imagined! so timid, so petulant! and that perpetual punning! It -matters not, however,--his title to our services remains the -same! A strange misgiving is on my soul; is it the shadow of -approaching danger, or only the fear of it? The Colonel gave me -a strange meaning look as he passed me this morning, and said, -‘You are early up, Miss Ratty; I fear that your rest was broken -last night.’ Can he suspect anything? That sneaking wretch, -Weasel! Hark, I hear the Colonel’s step and a strange voice. -I’ll conceal myself behind this screen. Perhaps.... - -_Enter COLONEL STUMPLY and CORPORAL CATCHUP._ - -COL. Plant two stout fellows at the front door, and half a dozen -in the garden. Place them so that there shall be no possibility -of escape either from the house or the churchyard adjoining. - -COR. I will, Sir. - -HORATIA. [_Aside._] Horror and despair! - -COL. Yourself and four of your best men go and search the open -vault at the right-hand corner of the churchyard, and on your -lives let not your prisoner escape. Go, plant your Sentinels, -and then to your business. [_Exit CORPORAL CATCHUP._] I will go -and superintend myself. [_Exit._] - -HORATIA. Day of horror and misery! All is lost. All is -discovered. If I but knew of one who could divert the attention -of these wretches till the Prince escaped! If I ... - -_Enter DARESBY._ - -Daresby! He’s a Whig! but I’ll make him my tool. - -DARESBY. Good morning, I came thus early.... - -HORATIA. [_Speaking very fast._] You are so welcome--you came -just a moment ... - -DARESBY. My Sophy! nothing is the matter with her? - -HORATIA. O no. It’s a poor soldier--got the cholera--lying in -the vault ... - -DARESBY. In a vault! - -HORATIA. Run, run, dearest Daresby, or you will be too late. - -DARESBY. What do you mean? Explain yourself. - -HORATIA. The cholera, I say--in the vault--O! you put me in a -fever. For my sake, for Sophy’s--O run, fly! - -DARESBY. Whatever can you ... - -HORATIA. Go, or I shall run wild! You know the way, go! - -DARESBY. If I can be of any use to the poor sufferer. [_Exit._] - -HORATIA. O, what a relief! he’s gone! I should never survive -another day of such excitement. If they once suppose that their -object is gained and the Prince caught, the sentinels will be -removed from the garden, and he can escape through the window. -If the deception can be carried on for one half-hour he may -be saved. I must go and put my sisters on their guard, and -prepare the Prince for flight. If Aunt Judith or Weasel see -and recognise Daresby all is lost. I wish I could lock them -both up. What a labyrinth I am in! The greatest comfort is that -the Colonel is a blockhead, and would not know a prince from a -pancake! [_Exit._] - - -SCENE III. - -THE STORE-ROOM. - -CHARLES. Something better than a vault this, methinks. I could -not have found a hiding-place more to my mind. Excellent -cherry-brandy she makes, this Mrs. Judith. I have entered half a -dozen professions since I entered this room; it will be hard if -I do not make my fortune out of one of them. I am an Historian, -for I have been discussing old dates; a Merchant, for I add plum -to plum; a Lawyer, for I have opened many a case; a Lord Mayor, -for the mace is before me; and a Navigator, for I am led to -seize and gulf! What if I were to stay here altogether, or set -up a new company with my fair hostesses? Miss Ratty is cut out -for a tragedy Queen. Such passion! such emphasis! [_Mimicking._] -‘That my keen knife see not the wound it makes’--but the puzzle -is that they are all ladies; not one to take a gentleman’s part. -It is a shame in me to say so, for I am sure that they have -taken mine. My only hope would be in Weasel. That fellow has -such a desperate squint, that I am sure he would make a capital -Lear! - -_Enter HORATIA._ - -HORATIA. Fly! fly! while yet there is a moment’s respite. - -CHARLES. Fly! and wherefore? - -HORATIA. Rouse all the ancient courage of your race ... - -CHARLES. There can be no courage in a race, for a race is -running away. - -HORATIA. Let the spirit of your Ancestors glow in your bosom, -for the hour of danger is come. - -CHARLES. ‘I dare do all that may become a man’ ... - -HORATIA. Does this trifling become a man and a hero? - -CHARLES. I know of but one thing, fair Ratty, that can become a -man and a hero. - -HORATIA. What is that? - -CHARLES. A boy, to be sure! - -HORATIA. Enough, enough of this perpetual play of words. We -must think, we must act. Another is now taking your place at the -vault ... - -CHARLES. My place! how excessively obliging! - -HORATIA. Every moment is invaluable. Put on this dress of my -Aunt’s which I have brought for you, and fly, fly, while the -deception lasts! - -CHARLES. The brandy must have got into my head. - -HORATIA. Put it on, I entreat you, if not for your own or your -Country’s sake, yet for your noble Father’s. - -CHARLES. My Father’s! Either you or I ... Why, what’s the matter -with him? Is he in the farce too? - -HORATIA. [_Aside._] He is the worse for liquor! O horrible! -and at such a moment! [_Aloud._] The soldiers are here--sent -to seize you--to drag you to a dungeon, perhaps an ignominious -death. - -CHARLES. [_Alarmed._] And why? what have I done? - -HORATIA. I heard the orders given. One hour’s delay will lead -you to the scaffold. - -CHARLES. The scaffold! - -HORATIA. The block. - -CHARLES. The block! why, what is my crime? Why does not my -Father come to my assistance? - -HORATIA. Your Father cannot--he is exiled from his native land. -Were he to appear, he must perish too. - -CHARLES. Have you hid him? have you hid him? - -HORATIA. [_Aside._] Horridly drunk! [_Aloud._] Put on this dress -and fly. It is your only chance of life. - -CHARLES. You have put me into a shiver. I cannot half believe, -nor a quarter comprehend you. - -HORATIA. Believe then these tears, this agony of apprehension in -which you see me. This moment the soldiers may be mounting the -staircase--cutting off all hope ... - -CHARLES. Give me the slip then, and I will give them the slip! -quick, quick, and the cloak and hood. - -HORATIA. Here, here! O despatch! while you remain here I tread -on hot iron. - -CHARLES. I am to personate your Aunt. - -HORATIA. Yes, yes, any one, but make haste. - -CHARLES. So, I’m equipped. Farewell, Lady! - -HORATIA. Pull the hood over your face. O farewell! [_Exit -CHARLES._] - -HORATIA. One hour more of excitement, and then ... [_Exit._] - - -SCENE IV. - -THE CHURCHYARD. - -_Enter CORPORAL CATCHUP and Soldiers._ - -CORP. Silence! Silence! halt! advance bending down and with your -bayonets presented. Comrades, this is a glorious day, and if we -catch the Pretender we shall have little cause to grieve that we -arrived a day too late for the Battle of Culloden. What were the -deeds of the Duke of Cumberland to ours? He but wounded the fox, -we catch him by the nose. We shall be made Aldermen, every man -of us. Take ground behind those bushes; keep silence. I hear a -voice in the vault. On your lives be silent--be steady! - -DARESBY. [_In the vault._] I can find no one, yet here is a -bed prepared. What a strange place to make an hospital of! -[_Emerging from the vault._] Perhaps the poor fellow has got -frightened and delirious ... - -CORP. Stand! - -DARESBY. Ah, here is my Patient. So you have got the cholera, my -Friend! - -CORP. No, unless that’s one of your titles. Surrender or die! - -DARESBY. He must be in a high fever! Be calm, my good man, I -will render you all the assistance in my power. - -CORP. You will, will you? - -DARESBY. Come with me to the house, come. This is no place for a -person in your state. - -CORP. Well, if this arn’t droll! he’s trying to humbug me. - -DARESBY. You may catch your death of cold. - -CORP. I’ll catch nothing but you. Come along, Sir, offer no -resistance, for it’s of no use. I’m sorry for you, but I’ve a -duty to perform, and a reward to get. - -DARESBY. What do you mean, fellow? Stand off! - -CORP. Ho! guards there! [_DARESBY is surrounded._] - -DARESBY. This is some error. By whose warrant do you dare to -apprehend one of his Majesty’s subjects? - -CORP. No use in all that deception, Sir: all’s discovered now. - -DARESBY. What’s discovered, fellow, what deception? Who dares -use such terms to me! You shall answer for your conduct, Sir; -this shall not be passed over, I’ll warrant you. - -CORP. I hope not, Sir. - -DARESBY. This is not to be endured. By whose orders do you -presume to place me under arrest? - -CORP. We are under the orders of Colonel Stumply. - -DARESBY. I must see the Colonel instantly. He shall give me -an explanation of this extraordinary affair. Take me to him -directly. - -CORP. All in good time, Sir. Stickum, have you handcuffs with -you? - -DARESBY. Handcuffs, villain! - -STICKUM. No. - -CORP. Keep your hand on his collar, then. Soldiers, present -bayonets. Let him attempt to escape, and he dies. - -DARESBY. With what effrontery ... - -CORP. Move on, Sir, if you please. [_To the Soldiers._] -Keep your eye on him. If he but raise his hand or turn his -head--fire! [_Exeunt._] - - -SCENE V. - -THE GARDEN GATE. - -O’SHANNON. - -O’SHAN. A could, misty, morning, and I am left here to keep -watch without a drop of the cratur to cheer my heart or keep my -spirits from sinking. There’s all the rest of them gone to catch -the Pretender and get the prize-money, and it’s nothing that I’m -likely to catch here but a cold. I wish that I had never left -the tallow business, that I do, for all this murthering work. It -was a lucky chance that we were a day too late for the fair at -Culloden; it’s no fancy I have for the Highlanders’ dirks. Awful -slashing work they made, ’tis said. Well-a-day! I must shoulder -my gun; if the Corporal found me standing at ease, he would -order me a round dozen: there’s no fear of it’s going off for -its own accord, the cratur, for I forgot to load it this morning. - -_Enter CHARLES in disguise._ - -CHARLES. [_Aside._] And there is a Sentry! Horatia was right! -But what they should want to arrest either me or my Father for -is more than I can comprehend! This is really nervous work. I -fear that I shall find it as difficult to pass this fellow as -I found it at school to parse a sentence from my grammar-book. -Notwithstanding the dress with which Ratty provided me, I shall -need all the address of which I am master to get through this -scrape should he address me. I must put on an air of confidence. -Perhaps he may let me pass without question. - -O’SHAN. A black morning, Ma’am. - -CHARLES. [_Attempting to slip past._] Did you ever see mourning -any other colour? - -O’SHAN. Can’t pass here, Ma’am. - -CHARLES. No! and why? - -O’SHAN. ‘Cause I am posted here to keep a good watch. - -CHARLES. [_Attempting to pass again._] Easier to keep a good -watch than to get one! - -O’SHAN. I have orders to let no one pass. - -CHARLES. O but, my good fellow, I have very important business. -You must let me go. - -O’SHAN. Keep back, Ma’am. Now I thinks on’t, your hood looks -rather suspicious. - -CHARLES. [_Retreating a step._] Does it? A sort of robbin’ hood, -I suppose. [_Aside._] I wish the fellow were at Jericho. - -O’SHAN. And that dress was never made for you? Let me see a -little closer. [_Advancing._] - -CHARLES. [_Retreating. Aside._] Shall I run for my life? - -O’SHAN. Stop, stop, my good Lady! Methinks your dress is -uncommon short, too, it hardly reaches to the clocks of your -stockings. - -CHARLES. Mind your watch, and leave my clocks alone. [_Aside._] -O dear! O dear! If I were but once fairly off! [_Attempts to -run._] - -O’SHAN. Stop, or I’ll shoot ye! I’ll send a bullet through your -head if ye stir an inch farther. - -CHARLES. [_Aside._] I’m done for! - -O’SHAN. [_Aside._] I’ll make sure. [_Suddenly darts towards -Charles and pulls back his hood._] Hillo! hillo! I’ve caught -him! I’ve caught him, ’tis the man himself. - -CHARLES. [_Aside._] One struggle for life. [_Aloud._] Beware, -fellow, I have arms. [_Aside._] None but what nature gave me. - -O’SHAN. [_Retreating a step. Aside._] Murther! and the gun is -not loaded! - -CHARLES. [_Aside._] I’ve staggered him! [_Aloud._] Lay but a -finger on me and I’ll lay you with the dust. - -O’SHAN. Keep off, or I’ll shoot ye. - -CHARLES. [_Retreating._] A fig for your gun! - -O’SHAN. [_Aside. Retreating._] I wish some one would come. I’ve -heard he’s a raal hero. I’ll call for help. Holloa! there. - -CHARLES. Hold your peace, or I’ll cut you piece-meal. - -O’SHAN. I’ll blow your brains out, I will! [_Aside._] He can’t -guess that it’s not loaded. - -CHARLES. [_Aside._] If he should fire! - -O’SHAN. [_Aside._] If he should fight! My poor Mother; och, if -she could see me now, ’twould pit her into high-strikes. Is no -one coming to help me? - -CHARLES. [_Aside._] If I could but touch his kinder feelings! I -have been accustomed to steal hearts, but I fear that I should -find his steeled already. I must make one more effort to steal -past him. But the sight of his matchlock makes my blood run cold. - -O’SHAN. Och! he’s coming nearer. O for pity’s sake ... - -CHARLES. If mercy ever touched your bosom ... - -_Enter CORPORAL CATCHUP._ - -O’SHAN. Catch him! catch him! ’tis he, the Pretender! catch him, -Corporal! collar him! never fear! - -CORP. Who? the old woman? - -O’SHAN. Catch him, I say, and never be frightened for him, man. -I found him out. - -CHARLES. So--all is lost. - -CORP. A man in disguise! it must be he. Bind him, O’Shannon. -This is a prize indeed. - -O’SHAN. Ah, poor gintleman, your troubles will soon be pit an -end to. Ah! ye may well sigh, for no man laughs on his way to -the gallows. - -CHARLES. The gallows! is it possible that so inhuman a murder -can be contemplated? - -O’SHAN. O ye may be satisfied of it! There’s only one thing -that’s doubtful, I’m thinking. - -CHARLES. What’s that? - -O’SHAN. Whether they’ll stick your head on the Lord Mayor’s mace -before or after they’ve hung you! - -CHARLES. O horrible, horrible, most horrible! It cannot, O -it cannot be! What a dreadful, what a fearful fate! O that -the first step I took from my Father’s home had been into a -horse-pond! that I had died e’er I left it! - -O’SHAN. Ay, there’s the pity! Had ye stayed peaceably at home, -this would never have happened to ye. - -CHARLES. The gallows! can it be? - -O’SHAN. Ah, how all the Ladies will pity ye! such a likely lad, -and so young, and ... - -CHARLES. Silence! you distract me. - -O’SHAN. Poor gintleman! when it comes to the pinch, when the -rope ... - -CORP. No more, O’Shannon! You have secured his arms. Bring him -speedily along with you. No delay! - -CHARLES. My limbs can scarcely support me! O day of agony, of -misery, and despair! [_Exeunt._] - - -SCENE VI. - -THE PARLOUR. - -COLONEL STUMPLY. - -COL. [_Rubbing his hands._] Caught! caught! This is indeed a -good day’s work. - -_Enter SOPHIA, BARBARA, and HORATIA._ - -COL. Ah! ha! my pretty Jacobites, this comes of your plotting. -The Pretender is in safe hands now. Who would have thought you -up to such a conspiracy? - -HORATIA. Alas, our unhappy Prince! - -SOPHIA. [_Aside to HORATIA._] Poor Daresby! It makes my heart -faint to think of him. I cannot stay to look on. - -HORATIA. You must stay to keep him silent. ’Tis but for an hour. -I am ashamed of you. Remember that you have a part to perform. - -SOPHY. I cannot say what is not true. - -HORATIA. Say nothing, then. - -_Enter DARESBY guarded._ - -DARESBY. [_To the COL._] Sir, I demand an explanation of this -most extraordinary and unjustifiable treatment. Sir, I am a -gentleman and ... [_HORATIA makes earnest signs to him to be -silent._] - -COL. You shall be treated, Sir, with all the respect due to your -station, consistent with your safe custody. - -DARESBY. Of what am I charged? Who is my accuser? what wretch -dares? [_HORATIA repeats the signs._] What is the meaning of all -this nonsense? Do you wish to make a fool of me? I’ll not endure -this ... - -COL. Be calm, Sir, and submit to destiny. - -DARESBY. I’ll not submit to such treatment. My name is ... - -[_HORATIA in an agony throws herself at his feet, exclaiming_] O -noble man! for the sake of all you love.... - -DARESBY. Horatia, I am in a dream. Sophy, of you I ask, I -entreat, an explanation. Why am I thus confined? Why do you -stand calmly looking on my disgrace? - -SOPHY. Calmly! O Da ... [_Aside._] I cannot restrain my tears. - -DARESBY. Are you too my enemy? - -SOPHY. Your enemy! O! - -DARESBY. [_To the COLONEL._] Are my political opinions -suspected? Am I supposed to be a Ja.... - -HORATIA. You are known--you are known--to be--to be--to be ... -[_Enter WEASEL._] - -HORATIA. [_Springing to SOPHIA’S side._] O Sophy, for pity’s -sake take that creature off, or.... - -SOPHY. Weasel, Weasel! [_Aside._] What can I say? - -WEASEL. What! Dr. Da.... - -SOPHIA. Weasel, Weasel, will you go directly to the garden and -fetch.... - -WEASEL. What, Miss? - -SOPHIA. Fetch, fetch--some spinach. - -WEASEL. Spinach don’t grow in November, Miss, as Dr.... - -HORATIA. Go to the village directly for.... - -WEASEL. Can’t go to the village no more, Miss, till I’ve laid -the cloth for breakfast. The Doc.... - -HORATIA. We must have wine. Go to the cellar. - -WEASEL. Haven’t got the keys, Miss. If I might make bold to ask -why.... - -HORATIA. Begone this instant ... we shall want poultry. Wring -every chicken’s neck in the yard, or I’ll wring yours as sure as -I stand here! [_Exit WEASEL._] - -COL. What an extraordinary temper! - -DARESBY. Sophy, Sophy, if you are still the ingenuous being -I ever believed you to be, tell me in what farce I am thus -forced to act a part against my will. Tell me the secret of the -conspiracy which seems formed against me. Are you an accessory? - -COL. Why, the Ladies have been turning every stone in your -defence! They never let out the secret! As far as they were -concerned you might have remained in your vault until you were -old enough to stay there altogether! - -DARESBY. Every sentence that I hear bewilders me yet more. Ratty -Rattleton, Ratty Rattleton, you are at the bottom of the plot. - -_Enter MRS. JUDITH._ - -HORATIA. [_Aside._] Aunt Judy! this is distraction! - -MRS. JUD. Young Daresby, my.... - -HORATIA. Aunt, Aunt.... - -MRS. JUD. What’s the matter? - -HORATIA. The ... [_aside_] at last I seem come to my wits end! -[_Aloud._] The.... - -DARESBY. Mrs. Judith Rattleton, you are my friend, you will bear -witness.... - -HORATIA. The most important.... - -SOPHIA. O dear Aunt.... - -BARBARA. If you would only hold your tongue! - -MRS. JUD. What a racket! what ... why.... - -DARESBY. Mrs. Judith, I am here charged with.... - -MRS. JUD. You, Daresby! Why, Colonel, this is.... - -COL. Not the Prince! Then he is concealed in the house! I see -all; follow me, Guards ... [_SOPHY throws herself at his feet; -HORATIA and BARBARA rush to the door._] - -HORATIA. You shall pass over my corpse! I am desperate! [_The -door suddenly opens. Enter CHARLES guarded by O’SHANNON and the -CORPORAL._] - -ALL THE YOUNG LADIES. The Prince! horrors! the Prince! - -DARESBY. My chum, Charles Stumply! - -CHARLES. My Father! - -COL. Ah, Scapegrace! dare you present yourself before me? Under -what false and shameful pretences have you entered this house? - -O’SHAN. Charles Stumply! hang the fellow, he’s only a man after -all. - -DARESBY. I cannot contain my surprise. - -MRS. JUD. The ungrateful vagabond! he has stolen my best gown -and hood. - -HORATIA. I shall sink to the cellar. - -SOPHIA. O Daresby, how comical! - -COL. Speak, you scamp! What has induced you to dress yourself -like--a--speak! nor add a falsehood to your other faults and -follies. - -CHARLES. My dear Father, I have used no deception except that of -changing my name. I am the deceived, not the deceiver. No one -present is as much surprised at seeing me, as I myself am at -finding myself thus. These fair Ladies kindly and willingly took -me in, and I see that, quite unwittingly, I have taken them in -also! I own that I merit your displeasure, but I will do so no -longer. I have received a lesson which I will not soon forget. -I will no longer run counter to your wishes, but return to the -counter for which you destined me. I have long devoted myself to -a-muse, but now I will learn to obey. I own that I too fondly -sought the giddy cheer of an applauding audience. Romance and -her knights had taken possession of my fancy, but I have found -the nights too cold, and the cheer too indifferent. I return -with humble regret to my loving Sire, and if he will receive me -a-gain, he may perhaps be able to make a-gain of me yet! - -COL. Ah, you Rogue, you little merit that I should look at -you again. The Pretender, indeed! so farewell to my dreams of -fortune! I always thought it too good to be true. Ladies, I have -to beg a thousand pardons for my rudeness in breaking in.... - -CHARLES. I must bear that blame, my Father. Had I not broken -out, you would not have broken in. - -HORATIA. Deceiving Wretch! could I for a moment.... - -CHARLES. No anger, fair Miss Ratty, we had enough of this -indignation at the brink of the vault, when you were near -falling out with me because I would not fall in with your ideas, -and fall into the vault. - -DARESBY. Ah, Sophy, how you treated me! - -SOPHIA. I thought it my duty, dearest. - -DARESBY. I can pardon you anything; but that deceiving Ratty, -whose word I can never again believe.... - -CHARLES. No more of that, Daresby. The farce is ended, the mists -of mistake are clearing up, the reign of Folly must fall, let -not Anger survive its cause! - - Now that we have ended all this War of Words, - And fall to drawing corks instead of swords, - Now the Pretender may his Captors mock, - And view with glee a match without the lock, - Let each resentful thought and feeling cease, - And General Harmony conclude the Piece! - - - - -CHAPTER V - -A.D. 1847-1849 - -HOME LIFE - - -In 1847 a new interest entered the life of Charlotte Tucker. The three -little ones of her brother Robert and his wife,--Louis, Charley, and -Letitia,--came to live at No. 3, and were made her especial charge. All -of them, but particularly the pretty little dark-eyed Letitia, then only -two years old, were thenceforward as her own; first in her thoughts, -and among the first in her love. She taught them, trained them, devoted -herself to them; and their names will often be found in her letters. The -death of Letitia, nearly twenty years later, was one of the heaviest -sorrows she ever had to endure. One is disposed to think that the care -and responsibility of three little ones, undertaken in the midst of a -full and busy family life, and in addition to all the duties of that -life, could have been no sinecure, and must have been fraught with many a -difficulty. - -The Tuckers were much in society, as may indeed have been already -gathered. Mr. Tucker was a man greatly sought after, alike on account of -his position and influence, and because of his personal attractiveness. -Open house was kept; and the large circle of friends and acquaintances -never failed to find a welcome. So many indeed would drop in and out, -that three lunches in succession were occasionally known to take place -at No. 3; and so frequent were the ‘parties’ to which the family was -invited, that sometimes they would appear at three different houses -in the course of one evening. ‘Party’ in those days was a wide term, -embracing divers kinds of entertainment, from a simple musical gathering -to a large ball. - -Dinner-parties also were numerous. In reference to these, Charlotte -Tucker wrote rather drolly to her sister late in life, speaking -of--‘those formal affairs, which you and I remember in our earlier -days. We _must_ ask So-and-so; and how shall we find gentlemen to -counterbalance Mrs. and Miss out of one house? Slow concerns those great -dinner-parties were; a kind of social duty, which cost much trouble and -expense, and gave not much pleasure. A kind of very stiff jelly, with not -many strawberries in it.’ - -An amusing story is told about these large dinners. In those days -the custom of ‘drinking healths’ had gained sway to an absurd and -objectionable extent; gentlemen being expected to respond to every toast, -and not only to sip their wine, but very often to empty their glasses, -under pain of giving serious offence. Mr. Tucker always had by his side -a decanter of toast and water, from which his glass was filled for the -various toasts; and probably those not in the secret counted him a -marvellously hard-headed man. One day a guest requested leave to taste -this especial wine, which was kept for the host alone, supposing it to -be of some very rare and choice vintage. His request was immediately -complied with; and the face of the _bon-vivant_ may be imagined when he -discovered himself to be drinking toast-and-water. - -No doubt these dinners _were_ a ‘social duty’; and no doubt some of them -may have been extremely dull. Yet it must not be supposed that Charlotte -did not thoroughly enjoy London society, and did not fully appreciate -intercourse with polished and intellectual minds. That which in her -old age would have been a mere weariness to her, was no weariness in -youth and early middle age. One of her brothers remarks: ‘She was very -sociable, lively, and threw her whole heart into the kindly entertaining -of guests of all ages.’ Such powers of entertaining as she possessed -could not but have gone with enjoyment in the use of those powers. - -Moreover, the study of different characters, the drawing out of other -people’s thoughts, the gaining of new ideas for herself, must have had -some fascination. And, despite all her kindness, all her readiness to see -the best in everybody, she could not, with her keen sense of humour, have -failed to be a good deal amused with the various foibles and absurdities -which certain people are wont to display, even in the best society, and -when upon their most circumspect behaviour. - -Ever merry, and ever making others merry, she could, as one friend -says, ‘keep a whole tableful laughing and talking,’ without difficulty. -In fact, whatever the dinner-parties may have seemed to herself, her -own presence, her bright smile and sparkling conversation, effectually -prevented sensations of dulness on the part of others who were there. - -Whether Charlotte ever had what, in the language of fifty or sixty years -ago, was delicately termed a ‘preference’ for anybody, cannot be known. -Her hand was at least once sought in marriage, while she was still a -girl; and some signs seem to have been visible that she was disposed to -‘like’ the gentleman in question. Her parents, however, disapproved of -the match, and it came to nothing. If at any time she really were in -love, it is pretty certain that she never would have revealed the fact -to any mortal being until sure that her ‘preference’ was returned. The -reticence which was so marked a feature in her otherwise frank and open -nature would undoubtedly have had sway in this direction. - -Speaking to a friend, long after in old age, she said that in her young -days ‘at home,’ when a certain nameless gentleman was supposed to be -paying his addresses to Fanny, the other sisters were ‘very indignant’ -at the idea of any man wishing to break into their sisterly circle. This -probably preceded her own little affair, since Fanny was four years her -senior. The pretty notion of home-life and of the unbroken sisterly -circle had in time to yield before stern facts, as first one sister and -then a second proved faithless to nursery traditions. - -Wide as was the circle of family acquaintances, the girls possessed few -intimate outside friends. Mr. Tucker rather discouraged such intimacies, -considering that his five daughters ought to be content with the close -companionship of one another. Charlotte had above all her Laura, whom she -devotedly loved; and so satisfying was this friendship that she probably -cared little for others by comparison. - -Mrs. Tucker, in her quiet way, was no less a power in the house than was -her husband. Though less brilliantly gifted, she was very observant, -very quaint, very wise, a most affectionate Mother, intensely loved and -revered by all her children. She had her own peculiar mode of looking -upon things. For instance,--having noticed that girls in an evening -party, glancing at a mirror, were apt to be disquieted to find their -dresses disorganised, she resolved to have no mirrors at all in her -rooms, hoping thereby to secure greater peace of mind among her guests. -It does not seem to have occurred to her, that a vague uneasiness about -the state of their attire might possibly trouble them quite as much as -even an uncomfortable certainty. - -Another short story of Mrs. Tucker, showing her quiet, incisive force -of character, may well come in here. She had a very strong objection -to unkind discussion of people behind their backs. On one occasion, -when in the drawing-room of a certain lady, other callers beside -herself were present, and one of the latter rose to leave. No sooner -was the unfortunate lady gone, than the hostess began to speak of her -in disparaging terms. Mrs. Tucker made no immediate observation; but -presently, turning to the hostess, she said mildly, ‘I ought to be -going,--but I really am afraid to do so.’ Much surprised, the other asked -why. ‘Because,’ Mrs. Tucker replied, ‘I am afraid that when I have left -the room you will begin to speak of me as you did just now of Mrs. ----.’ -The courteously uttered reproof--a pretty sharp one, however gently -bestowed--was accepted in an equally courteous spirit; and the hostess -earnestly assured her that nothing of the kind should take place. - -There is no need to imagine, because Charlotte was gay and bright in -society, that she never knew the meaning of depression. Shadows of loss -and sorrow had not yet begun to fall across her pathway; yet even in -those happy days she must have grasped the meaning of ‘down’ as well as -‘up.’ Rather curiously, she spoke of herself in old age as having been -when young ‘subject to very low spirits’; or more strictly, she said that -she would have been so subject, but for the counteracting influences of -‘religion’ and ‘work,’ the latter arising from the former. High spirits -seldom exist without some tendency to occasional re-action. But certainly -the sense of depression, whenever it may have assailed her, was not -allowed to be a weight upon others in her everyday life. - -It was most likely somewhere between 1847 and 1849 that she began to feel -uneasy about going to certain kinds of amusement. Fanny was the first to -dwell upon this subject, and to be unhappy as to exactly what she ought -or ought not to do. Long years after Charlotte Tucker wrote: Sweet Fanny -suffered _much_ from her sensitiveness of conscience’; and the words may -perhaps in part have borne reference to such debatings as these. - -Fanny’s gentle, yielding nature went no farther than being troubled. She -did not speak out. But when the same questionings spread to the younger -sister, matters were different. Charlotte was not one who would hesitate -as to action, in the face of her own conscience. To some extent here lies -the gist of the matter. While she could go with a clear and perfectly -easy conscience, able to enjoy herself, and untroubled by doubts, she -probably did so without harm to herself, so long as her life was not -‘given to pleasures,’ that is to say, so long as she did not unduly -_love_ these things, or allow them to occupy a wrong place in her life. -The moment conscience became uneasy, however, there was nothing for her -but to stand still and carefully to consider her next step. For ‘he that -doubteth is condemned if he eat,’ even though the eating may not be -actually and intrinsically evil. Whether or no the things were in their -essence wrong,--and to decide this, each thing would have to be regarded -apart, entirely on its own merits,--they became wrong for Charlotte, so -soon as she could no longer accept them with a free and happy mind. They -became wrong, at least, _unless_ she felt her doubts to be overridden by -the duty of obedience. - -Fanny had doubted and hesitated; Charlotte doubted, and did not hesitate. -She went straight to her parents, told them frankly what she felt, and -asked whether she might give up going to such places of entertainment as -caused her uneasiness. - -Wisely and generously Mr. and Mrs. Tucker yielded. If it had become a -matter of conscience with her, she might remain at home. Although they -did not view the question in precisely the same light, they would not -make their conscience the rule for her actions, but would leave her free -to be guided by the dictates of her own. - -Had they not so responded, had they insisted on having her with them -still wherever they went, Charlotte would have given way. Hers was a high -ideal of filial submission; and though she had reached an age when she -had a right to an independent opinion, yet obedience to them ranked in -her mind before the necessity to decide for herself, in a question where -opinions might so greatly differ. If they desired her to go, she would -go. If the matter were left to herself, she would be on the safe side in -all cases which seemed to her dubious, and would remain at home. - -There is little or nothing in her letters of that date bearing on this -subject; but the above seems to have been her manner of regarding it. -While feeling the need to draw for herself some line of demarcation -between things expedient and things inexpedient, she does not appear -to have fallen into the error, so common amongst really earnest and -excellent people, of counting that the line which she rightly drew for -herself must of necessity be the only right line for everybody else. Such -a view leads to many a harsh and un-Christian judgment. What is dangerous -for one may not be perilous for another, who is differently constituted. -What is needless for one may be an absolute duty for another, who is in -quite a different position. Probably Charlotte saw this. It is worth -remarking that, while she kept aloof from many entertainments out of -the house, she never, either then or in later years, refused to join in -home-parties, or failed to do her utmost to entertain the guests. There -was nothing morbid or repellent about the development of her sense of -duty. - -TO MISS D. LAURA TUCKER. - - ‘_July 12, 1848._ - - ‘You are my lovely, loving, and lovable Laura; a Diamond among - gems, and a Rosebud among flowers. Why do you mention so often - the mere handwriting of your letters? Do you think that I see - anything in them but the kindness of her who has, in the midst - of all her engagements, found so much time to devote to me? My - own Mother too--how very good to me she has been! I am grateful - to her for all her most kind endeavours to set my mind quite at - ease on the subject of the poor little Robins.... - - ‘We have taken it into our heads that, what between music and - teaching and writing and visiting, _you_ may have more work on - your hands than may suit your taste. Under this idea, Fanny, - like a dear Quixote as she is, formed a grand plan of rushing - up to town on Thursday by coach with uncle Charlton, who - happened to be coming, and turning you off the music-stool, or - snatching the spelling frame from your delicate hand instanter. - - ‘But I opposed this double-quick march for several reasons, - which I hope you may think cogent. In the first place, I hope - that you are not _so_ hard-worked that it would be too much - for you for a few days more to go on with only the assistance - of the fair Sibella and Clara. 2ndly, The country seems really - doing sweet Fan good. She told me yesterday that she did not - know when she had felt so well. I too am perfectly well. 3rdly, - I think at your full table on Friday our room would be better - than our company. 4thly, We are engaged to take tea with Mrs. - Edgecombe on that day. 5thly, For Fanny to start off by coach - and me to follow by fly, would appear to me both an extravagant - and extraordinary procedure. So, after all these reasons, I - thought that we had better fix on Saturday for the day of our - departure, until I heard that Aunt _must_ come up to Town on - Monday. She offered to take us up with her, but as it would of - course be more agreeable to her to come with _us_, I think that - we shall find ourselves in dear old Portland Place on Monday - morning. - - ‘I am so much obliged to dearest Mamma for her kind intention - of taking me to Thalberg’s splendid Concert on Monday. It would - really give me more pleasure if I might present my ticket to - dear Fanny Lanzun, who has been all kindness and attention to - us. You know how we wished that _one_ of our family might hear - Jenny Lind. Now I can hear through your ears; and none of the - Lanzuns have had that treat, you know.’ - -TO MISS D. L. TUCKER. - - ‘_Oct. 13, 1848._ - - ‘Many thanks for your last sweet note to me, and kind consent - to fill my place.... I do hope that you may not find teaching - the wearisome task which I sometimes do. Perhaps Aunt Laura - may succeed better in fixing the attention of her little - pupils. At all events, _I_ am grateful to you for undertaking - the trouble. You are dear to a sister’s heart, sweet Laura, and - I hope that you are one of the blessings for which I am _not_ - unthankful.... - - ‘I had two delightful games of chess yesterday with my dear - Father.... What an awful state Vienna is in! Is not the murder of - Count Latour dreadful?’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_Oct. 10, 1849._ - - ‘Another sweet note from my darling Laura. I am rich in letters - to-day, for I have received three such nice ones. - - ‘Yesterday evening I spent about an hour at the piano. I did - not, however, sing any of your especial songs. I began one - day--‘The world is so bright’--but my heart and voice failed, - because you were away. However, I daresay that I shall try - again this evening. How it would cut up my music, were you to - go to any great distance, for most of my favourite songs are - yours. How I have enjoyed hearing you sing them.... Farewell, - sweet Laura. I must go and hear my children their lessons. I - hear their little feet and voices above me.’ - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -A.D. 1847-1850 - -GRAVITY AND FUN - - -Though verging now on her thirtieth year, Charlotte Tucker was still -unknown to the public as an Author. If the initials A. L. O. E. existed -in her mind as a future possibility, they had at least not yet appeared -upon any printed page. - -From time to time, however, her pen was busy; still in the old line -of comic or tragic plays, for home amusement. In 1847 she wrote _The -Castle of Sternalt; a Tragedy in Two Acts_; belonging to the Cavalier -and Roundhead period of England’s history. In that same year she also -accomplished _Grimhaggard Hall; a Farce in Two Acts_--not historical, -but highly comic. After which came apparently a gap of two or three -years; and in 1850 she wrote, _Who Was The Witch? a Drama in Three -Acts_--historical again, belonging to the days of the Saxons and of King -Harold, half comic, half tragic. - -It does not appear from these three plays that her gift in the dramatic -line had made any marked advance during the ten years or more which had -elapsed since first she launched out in this direction. Probably an -entirely different mode of life from hers, a less sheltered existence, -a more extensive knowledge of human nature in its countless phases, is -an absolute necessity to such development. There is in them much latent -power, however unequal and undeveloped, whether it be of the grave or -of the sparkling and humorous description. The following quotation from -the _Castle of Sternalt_ will give an idea of her tragic style at that -period. Ravensby, the hero, is a Cavalier, imprisoned and condemned to -death on a false charge of murder. - -ACT IV.--SCENE I. - -A DUNGEON. - - RAVENSBY. - ‘Th’ intensity of grief destroys itself. - The torturer beholds his Victim stretched - Unconscious, pain itself o’ercome by pain. - Fate dooms me now to death; last punishment - Which mortal can inflict,--and yet I feel - There’s mercy in the doom. Thus to live on - Were lingering martyrdom; it were to die - By inches, drain my heart’s blood drop by drop. - One flash ends all! O Clara, when my soul - Hath ceased to suffer, can it cease to love? - Methinks, when quitting Earth, ’twill still retain - Her image, who was more than Earth to me! - It is a portion of my being, twined - With every thought and feeling; thou wilt weep, - My Clara; thou canst not believe him false - To faith and friends, who is so true to thee. - Gazing into the uncorrupted depths - Of thy pure feelings, thou wilt judge of mine. - When all denounced me, thou wert still my friend - When all forget, thou wilt remember still! - - _Enter AGNES._ - - AGNES, _aside_. - I ne’er have feared the eye of mortal man, - Why should I shrink from his? - - RAV. Who comes to break - The prisoner’s solitude? - - AGN. One who would be - The prisoner’s friend. - - RAV. I have no friend--save one. - - AGN. Can he speak thus who hath so long espoused - The Royal cause, and served that cause so well? - Who, girt with honours, well deserved, hath stood - One in a noble Brotherhood of Fame! - Where are the Cavaliers who fought with thee - In battle, side by side, who with thee shared - The feast, and drained the wine-cup to your King? - Where are they now? what, gone? not one remains, - T’assert thy innocence, or shield thee from - An ignominious death. Friends! out upon them! - They mock the name; it were not thus, if thou - Hadst drawn thy gallant sword with those who wear - No chains but those of Virtue, those who own - No earthly Monarch, and uphold no power - But that of Liberty; whose friendship lasts - Not only when the red wine sparkles high, - And revelry and song profane the night; - If such had been thy comrades and thy friends, - Thou hadst not been forsaken thus. - - RAV. No more! - - AGN. The gate thou hast defended with thy blood, - To-morrow casts thee forth, led out to die; - And the proud towers coldly will look down - Upon the closing scene; for hearts more hard - And more impregnable decree thy doom. - Thou diest a traitor’s death;--but wert thou _ours_, - Then ev’ry bush around the fatal spot - Should hold an armed defender, ev’ry knoll - Conceal an ambushed friend, and at a word - A wall of steel should bristle round thy breast; - Then swords should clash with swords, and they who came - To shed thy blood lie weltering in their own. - If thou wert ours--and yet thou mayst be ours,---- - - RAV. Cease, for I know thee, Temptress; words like these - Betray the fair false lips from which they flow. - Thou’rt Agnes, own it,--Gasper Tarlton’s love. - - AGN. Agnes I am, not Gasper Tarlton’s love. - The thistledown that floats upon the breeze, - The thorny weed which from my path I spurn, - The insect which I crush beneath my tread, - Are not to me more insignificant, - More worthless--than the Slave whom thou hast named. - - RAV. Thank Heaven! then my last doubt melts away; - He yet is true, yet faithful to his King; - My sacrifice will not be made for nought. - Maid, he is honoured in thy hate! - - AGN. And thou---- - - RAV. Leave me. - - AGN. To perish! - - RAV. Thou canst not defend. - - AGN. I could,--yes, I could arm in thy behalf - A thousand gallant hands, might I but say, - ‘The injured will on the oppressor turn, - Unite the love of freedom with revenge, - A thousand-fold repay the debt he owes - To your brave confidence; in Ravensby - Ye will destroy a foe and win a friend!’ - Could I speak thus---- - - RAV. Thy sex protects thee, Maid, - Or thou shouldst learn the meed of treason. Hence! - - AGN. From other lips such words I had not borne. - Why should I thus urge life upon thee,--why - Seek to preserve thee in thine own despite? - O thou art worthy of a nobler cause; - I see in thee one who can nobly dare, - Firmly resolve, and boldly execute;-- - And what a bright career before thee lies---- - - RAV. A brief one,--from the dungeon to the tomb. - - AGN. To die a Traitor in the eyes of men. - - RAV. Better than live a villain in my own. - Depart, and leave me to my fate. Away! - - AGN. O brave and glorious! I will tempt no more. - My pride is humbled. I have found a soul - That soars beyond mine own. I would not rob - Thy pinion of one plume. I watch thy flight - With kindling emulation. O for power - To follow it, that I above this sphere - Might rise; companion, not unworthy thee! - - RAV. A step approaches. - - AGN. None must see me here. [_Retires into shade._] - -Agnes in the end confesses herself guilty of the crime for which he is -condemned to death;--in time to save his name from lasting disgrace, -though not in time to save his life. - -_Who Was The Witch?_ though in parts amusing enough, is hardly so good -as the others. Modern English puns sit oddly upon a background of -pre-mediæval Saxon history. _Grimhaggard Hall_ is perhaps one of A. L. -O. E.’s most comic and laughable _jeux-d’esprit_, over which one can -picture the family as enjoying many a hearty laugh. The perpetual play -upon words, and the almost rollicking fun and nonsense of the whole, -remind one of her earlier effort, _The Pretender_, already given at -length; though the later-written farce is in some respects scarcely equal -to the girlish achievement. Both these plays illustrate well the frisky -and frolicsome side of a character which was in some respects not only -intensely serious, but absolutely stern. Charlotte Tucker’s was truly a -many-sided nature. - -Whether at this time she had already begun to write anything in the shape -of children’s story-books does not appear. It is by no means unlikely, -since the date of her first appearance in print was now fast drawing near. - -The chief characters in _Grimhaggard Hall_ are--Mr. Cramp; Mr. Scull, an -artist; Mr. Wriggle, a tutor; Miss Cob; and Nellie, daughter of Mr. Cramp. - - ACT I. - - _Library in Grimhaggard Hall. Nellie and Mr. Wriggle._ - - NELLIE. O my dear old Tutor, I shall be so sorry to lose you! I - wish that my good Father had kept to his old plan, and instead - of sending Bob to College had kept both you and him here. This - house is so intolerably dull. When you are gone I shall sit - looking at the old stones in the old wall, till I petrify into - one myself. Why, the very spiders’ webs look as though there - were no business doing in them, and not a _fly_ nor even a - _broom_ would call at the door! Heigh-ho! - - WRIG. You forget, honoured Madam, the governess, Miss Cob, who - is expected here to-morrow. - - NELL. A governess; the horror! then I hear that she is - an oddity; so absent; very learned though, and extremely - well-informed. I am rather old for a governess; I was seventeen - last March. It would have been quite a different thing to have - gone on with my studies here with you and Bob. Do you know - that, without vanity, I consider that I have made amazing - progress during the month that you have been here? - - WRIG. In Geography, Madam, for instance. Let me have the honour - of recalling to your oblivious memory that only yesterday you - forgot the situation of Guinea. - - NELL. Nonsense! I said that it was on the _Gold_ Coast, and - wished I had it in my own pocket. - - WRIG. I have remarked with regret, if you will permit me to say - it, an aversion to consulting the Atlas, which---- - - NELL. Keep me from you and your atlas! Atlas carried the world, - and you would burden me with the Atlas. I hardly consider - myself competent yet to carry the whole globe on my poor little - shoulders. I should like to know what is the use of knowing the - situation of this place and that place, to one who never has - the satisfaction of seeing any place at all beyond the walls - of our stupid garden. I wish that the cross old gentleman who - bequeathed my father Grimhaggard Hall, had lived to repent it, - that I do! I would rather live in the narrowest lane in the - City than be cooped up here like a toad in a block. I’ve no - fancy to be a Penelope,--stitch, stitch, stitch! - - WRIG. Penelope was a distinguished ornament to her sex. - - NELL. O dear Tutor, I know that she was a duck of a queen, but - distinguished for nothing but her _web-feat_. - - WRIG. The resource of literature remains to you, Madam, which - was never open to her. I would again venture to draw your - attention to the subject of Geography. - - NELL. O no more of that, I beg, my dear Mr. Wriggle. I know - that _Ham_ and _Sandwich_ are in the kitchen, _China_ in the - cupboard, and _Madeira_ in the cellar. That is enough for me. - I regard Geography simply in reference to utility. I’m quite a - utilitarian by principle. You know that the greatest navigator - was a _Cook_; I dare say that he discovered _Chili_, _Cayenne_, - and _Curaçoa_. Now do you know, my wise old Tutor, in spite of - your white hair and all your learning, I think that I could - puzzle you. - - WRIG. It would be difficult, Madam, to place a limit to your - powers. - - NELL. Tell me, why is Botany Bay called Botany Bay? - - WRIG. I am not, I must own, aware from what the name is - derived. Probably the Botanist has there discovered some new - and curious specimens of plants. - - NELL. O you must have come from _Dunse_ or the _Scilly_ Isles. - Botany Bay is called Botany Bay, because blossoms of the - _birch_ and sprigs of the _gallows-tree_ are transplanted there - _without their leaves_. - - WRIG. I see! I see! Ha, ha! - - NELL. I wonder if Miss Cob will understand a joke,--if she will - ever perpetrate a pun. Do you know I fancy her such a prim old - quiz? I should like to know whether she will play at chess with - Papa, or teach me the guitar, as you do. Do you think that she - will endure this house? - - WRIG. The total want of all society, except that which the - walls of Grimhaggard Hall have the honour constantly to - enclose, may perhaps have an effect upon the lady’s spirits - not altogether exhilarating; but when your brother returns - from College, perhaps he may be accompanied by some of his - fellow-students. - - NELL. Students; what an idea! When my Father would sooner see a - Goblin than a young man under any circumstances! - - WRIG. Is not this rather a peculiar--rather a singular--I would - say prejudice? Could such a word be applicable to the excellent - Mr. Cramp? - - NELL. I should say very singular indeed, did I not know its - cause. - - WRIG. Is it presumptuous to inquire what that cause may be? - - NELL. O I’ll tell you in a moment. It all arises out of the - freaks and folly of Mr. Grim of Grimhaggard Hall, who had, I - am sorry to say, the kindness to leave us this property, and - thereby consigned me to the dolefuls for the rest of my life. - - WRIG. Was the estate bequeathed under any unpleasant - conditions? I never heard your respected father complain of - such. - - NELL. O it is all _right_ to my father because it was all - _left_ to him. But you shall hear. This Mr. Grim had a - promising nephew, ... and this nephew, Mr. Atherton by name, was - very naturally considered as Mr. Grim’s heir, the old gentleman - never having persuaded any lady to marry him, and reign like - another Proserpine over the gloomy shades of Grimhaggard Hall. - - WRIG. How then came the estate to your Father? - - NELL. Have a little patience, my dear Mr. Wriggle, and you - shall be as learned as myself upon the subject. Well, this old - uncle quarrelled with this young nephew. I think that it was - about politics or some such absurdity; the elder was a Tory - and the junior a Radical; no, the young one was the Tory, and - the old one the Radical; and this _radical_ question was the - _root_ of the quarrel. Now what do you think the spiteful old - gentleman did? - - WRIG. Disinherited his nephew, and left the property to Mr. - Cramp. - - NELL. That would have been a pretty severe lesson to the young - man; but what do you say to the affectionate uncle leaving such - a clause as this in his will? That my father must only have - and hold this said Grimhaggard Hall, on condition of poor Mr. - Atherton’s never even crossing the threshold of what he once - considered his home! The place must be perfectly _heir_-tight. - If he ever passes twelve hours under this roof, the whole - estate is to revert to him. - - WRIG. Such a clause argues little charity; but perhaps it may - ultimately prove for the benefit of him whom it was designed to - injure. - - NELL. Ah, you think that Mr. Atherton may still manage to - get his property out of his old uncle’s _clause_! I am sure - I wish that Mr. Grim had left the dull place to him, or any - one but us; but then my Father is not of my mind. Yet even he - has not an atom of enjoyment of his prize, from the perpetual - fear of losing it. He has heard that young Atherton is very - sharp and clever; of course he will try to regain his rights - by any means that may present themselves; so I really believe - that Papa expects him to appear some day or other through the - key-hole. The gate is kept constantly locked,--luckily, one - can see the high-road from the house,--nothing in the shape - of a Man is permitted to pass it; we have even parted with - all men-servants, lest Mr. Atherton should manage to get in - disguised as a lackey. Grimhaggard Hall is a regular Convent. A - travelling pedlar is regarded with suspicion; the butcher-boy - must hand the leg of mutton over the gate; the young apothecary - is an object of terror,--I could not have a tooth pulled out, - were I to die for it. Dear me, how it is raining! The weather - seems endeavouring to find out whether it be possible to make - Grimhaggard Hall look a little duller than usual. - - WRIG. I hope Miss Cob may be fortunate in having finer weather - for her journey to-morrow. - - NELL. She is on the road to-day, like John Gilpin’s hat and - wig. She was to leave Puddingham this morning, and rest - to-night at the Jolly Bridecake at Mouseton. I hope the coach - is provided with oar and rudders, for she will certainly have - to swim for it!... - -In the midst of this talk an artist’s gig is smashed outside the front -gate; and the artist, Mr. Scull, being much shaken, is actually admitted -within the walls of the old Hall, to the great disquiet of Mr. Cramp, who -is determined that, come what may, the young man shall not remain through -the night. It is a pelting day, and no other conveyance seems likely -to pass; while the artist is plainly unable to walk the distance which -separates Grimhaggard Hall from the next town. While this matter is still -under discussion, a ring at the front-door bell is heard, and ‘a woman -of very singular appearance’ is seen ‘standing in the rain, without an -umbrella, as if water were her native element.’ - - NELL. Who can it be? [_Runs to the window._] Why, how tall she - is! she looks as though she had grown a foot since that dress - was made for her. What an extraordinary figure! Why, Sarah is - actually letting her in. Papa, we have not had so many visitors - since we came here. Grimhaggard Hall is growing quite gay. - - CRAMP. I will go and meet this strange guest. [_Exit._] - - NELL. It cannot be--it cannot be Miss Cob! Such a governess - would kill me either with terror or with laughter. - - WRIG. You were in expectation, Madam, of some one remarkable - for eccentricity. We must not always judge of the qualities of - the mind by the singularity of the exterior. - - _Enter MR. CRAMP and MISS COB._ - - CRAMP. Miss Cob,--my daughter. [_NELLY makes a curtsey, MISS - COB a bow._] - - NELL. [_Aside to WRIGGLE._] I shall never keep my countenance. - - WRIG. [_Aside._] That is to be regretted, for it is a very fair - one. - - CRAMP. We did not expect you to-night, Ma’am. Did you not - purpose sleeping at Mouseton? - - MISS C. The inn was chock-full. - - CRAMP. But how came you to be on foot? You never have walked - all the way! Where is your conveyance? It would be of the - utmost service to me. - - MISS C. Smashed on the road. - - CRAMP. Well, if all the gigs and cabs in England are not in - coalition against me this day! And where is your luggage? - - MISS C. Coming. You did not expect me to carry it on my back, - like a snail, did ye? - - WRIG. Miss Cob, like an experienced general, leaves her baggage - in the rear. - - NELL. I should rather have expected to find it in the _van_. - You are very wet, Ma’am; shall I help you off with your cloak? - - MISS C. O never mind. I’m neither sugar nor salt; only it’s a - plaguy thing to have one’s dress so long, walking through such - a bog. - - NELL. [_Aside._] How _long_ she may have had her dress, I know - not; but in one sense I am sure it is short enough. - - MISS C. This seems a good big house, but rather too much like a - prison. Have you those bars on all the windows? - - CRAMP. On all. - - MISS C. And how many men-servants do you keep? - - CRAMP. None at all. [_Aside._] What impertinent curiosity! - - NELL. [_Aside._] Shall I venture to address her again? I can - scarcely command myself. [_Aloud._] Pray, Ma’am, are you fond - of music? - - MISS C. I’m a regular dab at it. - - NELL. What instrument do you play? - - MISS C. All sorts of instruments, from the drum to the Jew’s - harp. - - NELL. You don’t play the cornopion? - - MISS C. Like bricks,--and sing all the time. You shall hear me - to-morrow. [_All stare in mute amazement._] - - CRAMP. May I trouble you, Ma’am, to let me see your letter of - introduction from Lady Myres again? - - MISS C. Heartily welcome. You will read all about me there. - Full details of manners and accomplishments. She says I’m a - little absent sometimes; so if ever I make a few trifling - blunders, I hope you’ll set them down to that score. - - NELL. [_Aside to WRIGGLES._] I wish she were absent now, for I - think I shall die in convulsions. - - MISS C. I’ll teach you all sorts of things suitable for a lady. - Knitting, netting,--crow--crowfoot ... - - WRIG. I see that nothing is beyond your apprehension. - - MISS C. What do you say about _apprehension_? Are you a police - officer? - - WRIG. No, Madam, I am a humble Professor of Geography, Geology, - Algebra, and ... - - MISS C. O I’m a match for you in all that, and I know Latin, - Greek, and American besides. - - WRIG. And what tongue, Madam, do you prefer? - - MISS C. O I’m not particular about those sort of things; but if - you want my opinion, why I think pickled tongues are excellent. - - WRIG. [_Turning away laughing._] This is either too bad or too - good! [_Aloud._] And your other studies, Ma’am? - - MISS C. As for Arithmetics, they’re at my fingers’-ends. - - NELL. I have not yet got beyond the Rule of Three. - - MISS C. You shall know the Rule of Four-and-twenty, before I - have done with you. We’ll skip the 4, 5, and 6. - - NELL. And the Rule of Three inverse? - - MISS C. In verse? Yes, you shall have it in all sorts of verse, - merry, tragical, and comical. - - NELL. [_Aside._] I shall expire with laughter. [_Retires to the - window._] - - WRIG. [_Aside._] I really cannot stand this any longer. - [_Follows her._] - - SCULL (the artist). Pray, Madam, may I venture to ask if you - paint? - - MISS C. You are a very impudent fellow, to ask a gentle--woman - if she paints. Do I look as if I painted? - - SCULL. I beg a million pardons, Ma’am, but as I paint myself ... - - MISS C. You paint precious badly then, for you’re as yellow as - a cowslip! - - CRAMP. [_Aside._] Is the woman intoxicated or insane? - - SCULL. I think--I imagine that there is a little - misapprehension, Ma’am, on your part. My vocation is that of an - artist. - - NELL. O Miss Cob, you must see his sketches. - - SCULL. You see, Ma’am, there is a new work to come out at - Christmas, which is to be entitled,--_The Mouse on the - Mantelpiece_. The letterpress is in very able hands,--a very - pretty little fairy-tale for grown-up children,--that’s - all the rage now, you know, in this enlightened age. But - the illustrations will be the great thing. A steel-plate - frontispiece, of course, in which will be introduced a number - of winged mice in a variety of positions,--a very clever thing, - I can assure you; and then wood-cuts,--I have the honour of - being intrusted with the designs for them. We are to have a - different illustration for the top of every column. - - NELL. That will no doubt be _capital_. - - SCULL. It will form a very elegant little volume - altogether,--the most remarkable publication of the day. - - MISS C. Well, after my wet walk, I think I’d be the better for - something to warm me. - - NELL. You shall have some tea directly, Ma’am. - - MISS C. Tea! Wishy-washy stuff! - - NELL. Would you prefer gruel? - - MISS C. Gruel! I wish you joy of your fare! - - NELL. [_Aside._] The fair Arithmetician looks as though she - would not have 3 _Scruples to a Dram_! - - CRAMP. I dare say Miss Cob is fatigued after her long walk. - Nelly, show her the apartment. I hope everything is comfortable - there. - - NELL. Certainly, Papa. [_Aside to WRIGGLE._] At any rate, I - will venture to say that her room is better than her company. - [_Exeunt NELLY and MISS COB._] - -And so on,--the wind-up of the story being that Miss Cob is found to be a -burglar in woman’s disguise; while the artist is a harmless nobody. But -elderly Wriggles, the tutor, who has lived quietly in the house for a -month past, and of whom even Mr. Cramp has had no suspicions, turns out -to be the much dreaded nephew, and to him by right Grimhaggard Hall now -appertains. As, however, he has managed to fall deeply in love with the -punning heroine, all difficulties are solved by their marriage,--Nellie -being equally in love with him. Thus the nephew gains the old home, and -the uncle does not lose it. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -A.D. 1849-1853 - -THE FIRST GREAT SORROW, AND THE FIRST BOOK - - -It must have been at about this time that Charlotte became increasingly -anxious for more of definite outdoor work among the poor. Her wish was -to be allowed to visit in the Marylebone Workhouse; but difficulties for -a while barred her way. Mr. Tucker objected strongly, fearing the risk -of infectious diseases for his daughters; and no doubt the risk in those -days was far greater than in these, considering the then condition of -Workhouses generally. - -So long as permission was refused, Charlotte seems to have contented -herself with the simple duties of home-life. She was not one who would -restlessly fight for and insist upon her own way at all costs, under -the plea of doing what was right. Rather, one may be sure, she counted -the prohibition as in itself sufficient indication of the Divine Will. -However, while submitting, she probably used from time to time some -little pressure to bring about another state of things; and somewhere -about the beginning of 1851 her parents’ ‘reluctant consent’ was, we are -told, at length given. From that time she and Fanny visited regularly in -the Workhouse. - -In 1849 Charlotte’s eldest sister, Sibella, was married to the Rev. -Frederick Hamilton, for some time Curate to Mr. Garnier, the Vicar of -Holy Trinity Church, which they all regularly attended. Mr. Garnier and -his wife, Lady Caroline, were especial friends of Charlotte, through -many a long year. Thus the first break in the charmed circle of sisters -was made; and Fanny was now ‘Miss Tucker,’ Charlotte being the second -home-daughter. - -Until the spring of 1850 Mr. Tucker kept his health and vigour to a -marvellous extent for a man eighty years old,--for one too who had worked -more or less hard through life from the age of fourteen or fifteen. He -still attended to his India House business, not seeming to find it too -much for his strength; and in the April of that year, after making a -speech in Court, he was congratulated by a brother-Director upon the -force and energy with which he had spoken. ‘Ah,’ he replied, ‘it is only -the last flicker of the taper before it goes out.’ - -No one had noticed aught to be wrong with him, but perhaps he had himself -been conscious of failing power. Soon afterwards a sharp attack of fever -and inflammation laid him low, and most serious fears for his life were -felt. It was a time of terrible suspense to his own family; not least so -to Charlotte, who had always loved him with an intense devotion. Probably -few fathers are quite so devotedly beloved as was old Mr. Tucker; but not -many men, and especially not many men of his years, can throw themselves -into the interests and amusements of their children, as he was able to do. - -They had till then hardly realised how suddenly the call might come. As -his biographer says, he had been always ‘so full of life, there had been -so much activity of body, so much energy of mind, so much elasticity of -spirit, that they had never associated with all this vitality a thought -of the stillness of death.’ Now, without warning, the foe was at their -very door; and the shadow of his great danger weighed heavily upon them -all. - -In answer to many prayers he was given back to them again, just for a -little while. But they could never quite forget how nearly he had been -taken from them, how unexpectedly the great separation might come. - -Another event of 1850 was the marriage of Charlotte’s brother, William -Tucker, at Brussels. It came almost immediately upon Mr. Tucker’s rally -from his severe illness; and Charlotte had the pleasure of being taken -to Brussels for the wedding by her brother, St. George Tucker, then -home for a short time from India. It would be interesting to know her -first impressions of the Continent, but not many letters of this date -are available. The two which follow are among the last belonging to her -unshadowed younger life, before the true meaning of loss and sorrow had -dawned upon her. One black cloud had gathered and dispersed; but it was -soon to roll up again; and then the storm would break. - - ‘_Oct. 3, 1850._ - - ‘DEAREST LAURA,--We have finished the volume of stories which - we were reading--which by the way resembled the pottles of - strawberries sold in the streets, capital at the beginning, but - as one gets further on, miserably inferior--and now Fanny has - gone to her dear Will-making, so I keep her pen in company by - writing to you. I soon knocked off my Will, and we have just - the same sum to dispose of, but her large sheets of paper are - not covered yet. - - ‘Now what shall I write to you about, dear--for we write so - often that it is impossible that we should often have much - to write about? The sun shines one day, and does not shine - another; the sea is rough one morning and calm the next. I may - have to follow the style of Letitia in her well-known note, - “sometimes we pass Fummity, and sometimes we do not.” Things go - on quietly, nothing changed but my half-sovereign. I had to buy - new ribbons for Letitia to-day, and fear that I shall have to - supply the children with fresh gloves. - - ‘I have been reading about our poor friend, the first of the - Blacks, to-day; and it appears that his character was very - fairly drawn by Miss Martineau. I was glad to know a little - about the after doings in Hayti, and find that Dessalines--that - fierce fellow, husband of Theresa--was made first Emperor, - and killed in about two years. He was a great savage, but - his wife an amiable lady. Then came King Henri I.--our - friend Christopher the Cook--who was king at the time that - my informant wrote, that is to say, in 1819. A famous king - he seems to be, or have been, with a good palace, standing - army of 25,000 men kept in strict discipline, a hereditary - aristocracy--all of the colour of coal--and ecclesiastical - establishment. He was considered in person very much like King - George III.--barring complexion, I suppose--and, in short, - that part of Hayti which owned him for king seemed in a very - flourishing condition in 1819. - - ‘Do you remember the name of Thaurepas (?), the blacky General - who weakly surrendered his post to the French? What do you - think the grateful Monsieurs did to him? Nailed epaulettes on - his shoulders and a cocked hat on his head, and then threw him - with his wife and children into the sea! Would one believe - such things of men in the 19th century? I should like to know - something of the present state of Hayti, and whether the throne - is filled by a son of Henri I., for I suppose that Christopher - is hardly living still. If he were, would you not like to have - his autograph? - - ‘I have told you all this about Hayti, because I thought - that, like myself, you would be pleased to know what really - became of the characters in Miss Martineau’s Romance, and one - seldom meets with a book which throws any light upon such an - out-of-the-way subject.’ - - ‘_Oct. 18, 1850._ - - ‘DEAREST LAURA,--We have been luxuriating in the letters from - Paris.... All things look so bright and joyous! I have twice sung - “The World is so Bright” to-day _con amore_, and my heart is - so lightsome that I could dance. I do not think that I have - _once_ seen precious Father dull since my return. He desires me - to say that he cannot quite countenance a visit to Lebanon. It - is rather too far, and Lord Ellesmere was very ill on his way - thither; so dear ---- must give up her Blackbeard, and content - herself with Sir Peter. Now Mamma is reading St. George’s note. - Papa is smiling away,--his dear lips apart. He looks so nice in - Clara’s beautiful cap! - - ‘Henry thinks so much of you, dear. He says that you are a - sweet girl, and that he loves you extremely. I cannot tell you - all the kind things he says of you.... - - ‘We are such a comfortable party, and our loved absent ones - help to make us more so.... This is a very disconnected sort of - note, a sort of patchwork, for my ears are as much employed - as my hand, and I have every now and then a message to darn - in,--then, O my chilblains! But I am determined to complain - of nothing, for I am so overloaded with blessings. Dearest - Parents are just going out. The weather is delicious. The world - is so bright, the world is so fair! Yes, even now, when she has - only a wreath of dahlias, and decks herself in yellow like the - sweet little Blossom!... - - ‘I should like to think that our dear trio are enjoying - themselves as much at Paris as I am at home. I hope and trust - that we may all have such a happy winter together, when “Love’s - shining circlet” has all its gems complete except the dear - Indian absentees.’ - -This was written in the autumn following Mr. Tucker’s dangerous illness. -After a long and tedious convalescence, his health had steadily improved -through the summer months, and during the autumn he seemed to be almost -himself again,--able to walk out regularly, able to read much and -thoroughly to enjoy being read to by his wife and daughters. In the -evenings he would delight in their music, varied by merry talk and by an -occasional rubber of whist. - -With the coming of winter acute neuralgic pains took possession of him; -and though some little improvement was seen with the advent of spring, it -was not permanent. In the end of May 1851 he was taken to Brighton for a -few days’ change; after which he became worse and then again better. Amid -these fluctuations, which included at times very severe suffering, his -manly courage and patience were never known to fail. - -On the tenth of June he seemed so far improved as to talk of going next -day to the India House, for the Wednesday’s Council. The Doctor strongly -opposed this; and Mr. Tucker went instead to a Flower-Show, with his -daughters. For two days afterward he seemed particularly well. On Friday -night there was no apparent change for the worse; and his usual tender -good-night to them all had in it no shadow of approaching calamity. - -But the end was at hand. Before morning sharp illness had seized upon -him; and before twelve o’clock he had passed away. - -It was a heavy blow to all who knew him; above all to his wife and -children. He had been the very life of the house, the very spring of -home-brightness. Charlotte’s little niece, Bella Frances, daughter of -the elder brother, Henry Carre Tucker, came to spend her first English -holidays in the house, not long after Mr. Tucker’s death, and she found -the whole family ‘plunged in gloom,’--Charlotte Tucker being exceedingly -sad and grave. The only one, indeed, of the whole party who was able to -speak cheerfully was Laura. It is probable that Laura had at that date a -dawning outside interest in her life, not possessed by any of the others, -which may have enabled her to bear up somewhat better than they could. - -Many months earlier, after the sharp illness of the preceding year, Mr. -Tucker had written a letter to all his children, thanking them for their -‘late unwearied and devoted attentions’ to him. After desiring them -‘not to give way to strong emotions,’ he had gone on to say,--‘I have -reached a very advanced age, and must be prepared for a change. Old age -has its infirmities and suffering, and a prolonged existence is not to -be desired. Your care should now be to comfort and console your beloved -mother, who has been everything to me and everything to you all. I trust -that she will not leave this house, in which we have all enjoyed so much -happiness; and I feel assured that you will all tenderly watch over her, -and contribute by every means in your power to her future comfort.’ - -This wish was fulfilled. Mrs. Tucker never did leave No. 3 Upper Portland -Place, except of course for necessary change. It remained her home, and -the home of her daughters, from the year 1851, when her husband died, -until her own death in the year 1869. - -How much of life’s sunshine had been swept out of Charlotte’s life by -the loss of her Father, it is perhaps impossible for any one to estimate -who did not personally know Mr. Tucker. Not that _all_ her sunshine -had departed! Apart from her own inherent elasticity of spirit, she -was devotedly attached to her Mother; and she had still the tender and -satisfying companionship of Laura. - -That while deeply saddened, she was not crushed, is shown by the -following letter to her little niece, Bella F. Tucker, dated August 9, -1851:-- - - ‘The sun has been shining so beautifully lately, and the - reapers have been busy in the fields. It is a sight to warm - the heart, to see the yellow sheaves covering the land, and - we should bless God for an abundant harvest. There is a - clover-field near us, and it looks like a beautiful carpet of - lilac and green. I was calculating that there must be more than - two million blossoms in that one field; and each blossom may - be perhaps the home of many insects.... Then what is that field - compared to all England, or England to Europe, or Europe to the - whole world? Neither your little head, nor the wisest man’s, - can imagine how many blossoms and how many insects there are - on this great globe,--it makes one almost giddy to think of - it,--and then to consider that all the world itself is only - like a speck in God’s Creation, that there are said to be - _eighty millions_ of fixed stars, each of which has very likely - worlds moving round it. And God made all. How very great and - wonderful He must be! It seems surprising that He should care - for every one on this little ball,--how much more astonishing - that He should have condescended to come and live upon it, to - have appeared as a feeble Child in one of the worlds that He - had made, and then actually to _die_, like one of the creatures - that He had formed! Is not God’s power wonderful, and His love - more wonderful still? - - ‘When you look at the bright blue sky, do you never long to fly - up like the birds,--no, much higher than the birds can fly, - to your Home, to your Father which is in Heaven? I hope that - time may come, sweet Bella, but now is the time to prepare. - I sometimes think that this life is our school-time. We are - now to learn lessons of faith and patience and love. When our - education is finished we shall be allowed to go Home; and Death - will be the gentle Messenger to say,--“Your Heavenly Father - sends for you; come and join your loved ones who have gone - before. O that will be joyful, when we meet to part no more!”’ - -There is a tone of quiet sadness running through the letter, in marked -contrast with those joyous epistles to her sister Laura quoted earlier in -this chapter. The world could never again be to her ‘so bright, so fair!’ -as in the days when her Father was still upon earth. No doubt as time -went on the buoyancy of her temperament reasserted itself; but life was -no longer unshadowed; and other troubles soon followed. - -One of these must certainly have been the marriage of her sister Laura, -though no letters are at hand to show what she felt. Mr. Otho Hamilton, -elder brother to the Rev. Frederick Hamilton, who had married Charlotte’s -eldest sister, sought Laura’s hand; and he was accepted. - -Not entirely without hesitation. Perhaps few girls can say, or ought to -say, ‘Yes’ at once, without time for consideration. When the offer came, -Laura’s first impulse was, naturally, to go to her Mother for advice; -her second impulse was to go to her friend-sister. It is not hard to -realise what the thought must have been to Charlotte of losing this -dearly-loved companion,--her room-mate and the constant sharer of her -thoughts and interests from very infancy; nor is it difficult to believe -how bravely she would put aside the recollection of herself, viewing the -question from Laura’s standpoint alone. It must, however, be remembered -that Charlotte was romantically enthusiastic on the subject of others’ -engagements, and was through life ardently interested in the marriages of -her friends. In the present case her knowledge of how highly her Father -had thought of Mr. Hamilton would be an additional incentive to put no -obstacle in the way. It seems that Laura’s hesitation had arisen, not -from any doubt as to her own feelings, but simply from a desire to be -sure of her duty. The engagement took place; and on the 19th of October -1852, Laura Tucker became Mrs. Hamilton. So another leaf was turned in -the story of Charlotte’s life. - -And now, in the very midst of these changes and losses arose a new -interest. Hitherto, Charlotte had written a good deal, but she had never -published, perhaps had never even thought of publishing. What first led -her to adopt the style of fiction, by which she was soon to become known, -it is possible at least to conjecture. In 1850, as we have seen, she -wrote another of her merry plays, full of fun and humour. Now, suddenly, -she seems to have plunged into the line of children’s stories, having -each a very prominent ‘purpose,’--her earliest being _The Claremont -Tales_. It may be that the shock of her first great sorrow, the death -of Mr. Tucker, making her to realise intensely the shortness of life on -earth, and the supreme weight of things unseen, had the effect of turning -her mind with a new energy to the thought of doing good by means of her -pen. It may be also that, now _he_ was gone for whom and with whom she -had written her plays, all zest in that direction was gone with him, and -the gift of writing, like a river dammed up in one direction and forced -to turn elsewhere, sought naturally a fresh outlet,--an outlet with -which there should be no overpoweringly sad associations. Moreover, the -home-circle was no longer what it had been. Two of the sisters, to whom -she had read her plays, were gone; and with the changed order of life -came a new order of writing. - -Exactly when she began or finished _The Claremont Tales_ is not known. -With her usual reserve she at first said nothing about the completed -MS.--beyond, at all events, reading the stories to the children. Probably -she felt doubtful about her own venture; and some little time seems to -have passed before she showed it to her Mother. Mrs. Tucker was much -delighted with the attempt, said at once that it ought to be published, -and insisted on action being taken. - -So, on November 19, 1851, the MS. was sent to Messrs. W. and R. Chambers, -with the accompanying letter:-- - - ‘SIR,--It has for some time been my anxious desire to add my - mite to the Treasury of useful literature, which you have - opened to the young as well as the old. - - ‘The Tales which I now venture to offer to you for publication - were originally composed for young children under my own - charge, and were listened to with an appearance of interest, - which gives me hopes that they may meet with no unfavourable - reception from others of the same tender years. - - ‘I ask for no earthly remuneration; my position in life renders - me independent of any exertions of my own; I pray but for God’s - blessing upon my attempts to instruct His lambs in the things - which concern their everlasting welfare; and deeply gratified - should I feel, were my little work to be classed among the - numerous valuable publications which you have already given to - the world. - - ‘The Tales might be printed separately, as each forms a - complete story, though all are united by connecting links.’ - -The date is given, but no name and no address; and a letter more quaintly -stiff and unbusiness-like can surely never have won a Publisher’s smile. -To return the MS. to herself, if disapproved of, was not possible; and, -as it happened, _The Claremont Tales_ did not belong to the class of -publications undertaken by Messrs. Chambers. Very kindly, however, they -passed it on to the house of Messrs. Gall and Inglis; and by them the -little book was brought out. One can imagine how eagerly Charlotte, while -preserving her strict incognita, must have watched for the possible -appearance of her Tales, and how delighted she would be to see the name -advertised. When this occurred, she wrote again-- - - ‘_May 24, 1853._ - - ‘A. L. O. E. presents her compliments to Messrs. Gall and - Inglis, and, admiring the elegant form in which they have - presented _The Claremont Tales_ to the public, is happy to - offer to them for publication the accompanying volume of - poems,--asking no further remuneration than 20 copies of the - work, when printed, for _gratuitous_ distribution. A. L. O. E. - proposes sending a few copies of her poems to the principal - Reviews, as a means of extending their circulation. - - ‘A. L. O. E. would be glad to know whether Messrs. Gall and - Inglis propose adopting her suggestion of printing some or - all of _The Claremont Tales_ in a _very cheap_ form, for - distribution amongst poor children, Ragged Schools, etc. - - ‘Any communication will be received by the Authoress, if - addressed to--“Miss Aloe; care of Miss Lanzun; S----; - Middlesex.” - - ‘_P.S._--Miss ---- would much like to know whether _The - Claremont Tales_ were first placed in the hands of Messrs. Gall - and Inglis by Messrs. Chambers, to whom she originally sent - them; and whether Messrs. Gall and Inglis have any professional - connection with those Publishers, so distinguished in the - field of literature. Should Messrs. Gall and Inglis not wish - themselves to undertake the publication of a volume of poetry, - they are at perfect liberty to submit the work to Messrs. - Chambers. An early answer will oblige.’ - -Three months later comes another letter, still further relaxing her -secrecy, and still on the subject of the ‘volume of poems’:-- - - ‘_August 6, 1853._ - - ‘Miss C. M. Tucker presents her compliments to Mr. Inglis, and - begs to acknowledge the receipt this morning of his obliging - communication to Miss A. L. O. E., which _nom de guerre_, in - compliance with his wish, and in reliance on his promise to - preserve her incognita, she now exchanges for her own. - - ‘Miss C. M. Tucker is now at the seaside, and is therefore - unable personally to communicate with Mr. Inglis. She requests, - however, that he will continue to direct any letters to S----, - to the care of Miss Lanzun. - - ‘Miss C. M. Tucker is much pleased to learn that her little - work has been favourably received in America. She will be very - happy to write such an addition to _The Fortress_, as may make - it equal in length to its companion tales. - - ‘As Mr. Inglis’ objection to publishing _The White Shroud_, - etc., seems only to rest upon the shortness of the poems, - Miss C. M. Tucker would have no objection to sending a larger - book of her poetry, from which Mr. Inglis might select what - he thought likely to please the public. Miss C. M. Tucker - has written an Epic on the eventful Life of St. Paul, and a - variety of other pieces. Would Mr. Inglis wish them forwarded - to Scotland, or to his present address in London? Miss C. M. - Tucker herself selected _The White Shroud_, as she thought - it one of those most likely to be popular, and perhaps most - calculated to be useful. The _name_ might attract readers, - who would not glance at what appeared from its title to be - exclusively religious. It would also be well adapted for - illustration; but that Miss C. M. Tucker leaves entirely to the - taste and judgment of Messrs. Gall and Inglis, only suggesting - that perhaps the commencement of winter might be a favourable - time for such a work of Fancy to make its appearance, when it - might take its place among the elegant little volumes designed - for Christmas remembrances.’ - -Others were disposed to take a different view as to the peculiar -attractiveness of such a name as _The White Shroud_, and when the volume -was published it came out as _Glimpses of the Unseen_. - -A first interview between Charlotte and one of her Publishers, recalled -by some of the family, probably took place at about this date, or not -very long afterwards. She is said to have been shy on seeing him, though -not commonly supposed to suffer from shyness. In any case it is to be -hoped that few Authors are, at first starting, so absolutely convinced of -their own powers as not to go through certain twinges of bashfulness. - -One copy of _The Claremont Tales_ was sent out to her brother, Mr. St. -George Tucker, who was again in India, and had recently gone to Azimgurh. -When the book arrived, he sat up reading it until past one o’clock in -the morning; no small compliment to a young Author. He then despatched -a messenger on horseback to Benares, with the volume,--a ride of sixty -miles,--that his brother, Mr. Henry Carre Tucker, might with all speed -enjoy the same pleasure. Charlotte, hearing this through her Mother, was -not a little gratified. - -Thenceforth Charlotte went steadily in for Authorship. Volume after -volume flowed from her fertile pen; most of them for children; many -of them exceedingly amusing; all of them definitely designed to teach -something. One is rather disposed to fancy that in the writing of -these books there may have been, in the beginning, something of a -struggle. Charlotte was by nature ambitious; and her literary gift -was considerable; and some of its potentialities appear to have been -sacrificed to her ardent desire for usefulness. Whether she ever could -or would have made her mark in any of the higher walks of literature is -a question which could only have been decided by actual experiment; but -at least she must have felt it to lie within the bounds of possibility. -Some people may think that her desire for usefulness was a little too -ardent in its manifestation, since it led to so extremely didactic a mode -of writing as that of many among her books. No one can deny that some of -the said volumes do contain a large amount of direct ‘preaching’; not -merely of life-lessons, interwoven with the story in such wise that the -one could not be read and the other missed, but rather of little sermons -so alternating with the story that a child might read the latter and -skip the former. Probably, most children, when reading to themselves, -did follow this plan. Directness to a fault was, however, a leading -characteristic of Charlotte all through life. The same tendency,--many -would say in plain terms, the same mistake--is apparent in the later -years of her Indian work, in the mode of her Zenana teaching. - -With respect to her writings, nothing is more impossible than to gauge -correctly the amount of comparative good worked in any age, by different -books or different styles of composition. That which makes the most stir, -that which has the greatest apparent success, is by no means always the -most wide in its influence. Some of us may be inclined to think that A. -L. O. E. might have reached a larger circle, might have gained a more -extensive influence, if she had less anxiously pressed so very much -didactic talk into her tales,--if too she had more studiously cultivated -her own dramatic instincts, and had more closely studied human nature. -All this we are quite at liberty to believe. For the question as to -‘doing good’ through a book does not rest upon the amount of religious -teaching which may be packed into a given number of printed pages, but -rather upon the force with which a certain lesson is presented, with or -without many words. There is no especial power in an abundance of words; -rather the reverse! - -But the main gist of the matter as regarded Charlotte herself lies -outside all these questions. It is found in the simple fact that she -determinately stamped down her own personal ambitions, and bent her -powers with a most single heart to this task of ‘doing good’; that she -resolutely yielded herself and her gifts to the Service of her Heavenly -Father, desiring only that His Name might be honoured in what she -undertook. Whether she always carried out this aim in the wisest manner -is a secondary consideration. From the literary and artistic point of -view, one may say that she undoubtedly did make some mistakes. From -the standpoint of a simple desire to do good, one may question whether -she could not have done yet more good by a different style of writing. -But with regard to the purity and earnestness of her desire, with -regard to the putting aside of personal ambitions, with regard to the -single-heartedness of her aims, there can be no two opinions. And HE who -looks on the heart, HE who gauges our actions not by results but by the -motives which prompt them,--HE, we may well believe, honoured His servant -for her faithful work in His Service. - -Nor must we ignore the measure of marked success which she certainly had, -if one may judge from the speed with which her books came out, and the -demand which apparently existed for them. Even in her most didactic tales -there are keen and witty touches, and droll descriptions. For ‘teaching’ -purposes her boys may sometimes converse together as boys never do -converse; but none the less those boys are real, and they recur in after -years to the memory as only living people or vivid creations ever do -recur. In some of her rather higher flights, such as _Pride and his -Prisoners_, are to be found stirring scenes, drawn with dramatic power. - -One thing should be noted: the curiously allegorical or symbolical style -of thought which was natural to her. - -It did not appear in the girlish dramatic efforts,--unless in the -direction of a perpetual play upon words,--but in her published books -it developed speedily. This was remarkable in her; _not_ because of any -peculiar result from it in England, but because of its very peculiar -adaptation to Indian needs. One may almost think of her authorship in -England as mainly a long preparation for her Indian toil; the continuous -practice in habits of imagery and allegory, by no means especially suited -to our Western minds, gradually fitting her to deal with the Oriental -mind, little as she yet dreamt of any such destination for herself. All -these years, without knowing it, she was waiting for and was working -upward to ‘the Crown of her Life,’ as it may be termed; those eighteen -years in the Panjab. All these years she was being prepared and made -ready, till she should be as a ‘sharpened instrument’ in the Hand of her -Master, fitted for the work which He would give her to do. - -Among the many volumes published during the first fifteen or twenty -years of authorship were the following:--_The Giant-Killer_, _The Roby -Family_, _The Young Pilgrim_, _History of a Needle_, and _Rambles -of a Rat_, before 1858; _Flora_, _The Mine_, _Precepts in Practice_, -_Idols in the Heart_, and _Whispering Unseen_, before 1860; _Pride and -his Prisoners_, _The Shepherd of Bethlehem_, _My Neighbour’s Shoes_, -_War and Peace_, _Light in the Robber’s Cave_, and _The Silver Casket_, -before 1864. A trio of volumes appeared in succession, the first of which -she wrote at her Mother’s suggestion,--_Exiles in Babylon_, _Rescued -from Egypt_, and _Triumph of Midian_. Another trio, coming in due -course,--_Fairy Know-a-Bit_, _Parliament in the Playroom_, and _The Crown -of Success_,--were bright little books, containing a good deal of useful -information. Besides these were published at intervals _House Beautiful_, -_Living Jewels_, _Castle of Carlmont_, _Hebrew Heroes_, _Claudia_, _Cyril -Ashley_, _The Lady of Provence_, _The Wreath of Smoke_, and very many -others. - -One of the most strongly allegorical of her earlier works was _The -Giant-Killer_; and in that little book she no doubt made free use of her -own experiences. - -It is easy to believe that she must have had many a hard battle with -Giant Sloth, before she gained the habit of always rising at six o’clock -in the morning, a habit persevered in through life. Again, one of her -eager and impulsive temperament could not have been naturally free from -a clinging to her own way, and from a certain vigorous self-seeking; -and many a bitter conflict must have been gone through, before friends -could, with an all but unanimous voice, speak of hers as a peculiarly -unselfish character. In the struggles of Fides to get out of the Pit -of Selfishness, we may read between the lines of Charlotte’s girlish -battlings. - -Even more, in the fight with Giant Pride we seem to see her hardest -tussle of all, and the mode in which victory came to her. Giant Pride’s -assumed name of ‘High Spirit,’ his hatred of Meanness, Gluttony, -Cowardice, and Untruth, are all an echo of parts of herself. The -polishing of the darkened gold of her Will she had long known in the -small unavoidable frictions of everyday life; and the plunging of that -Will into furnace-heat, and the straightening of its crookedness by means -of heavy successive blows, she had begun to know in the death of her -dear Father, and would soon know more fully through other sorrows coming -after. But many more than three blows were needed for the shapening of -Charlotte Tucker’s Will. She may have dreamt when she wrote the book -that three would be enough, and that the King’s call to Fides might in -her case be soon repeated. She little knew the long years of toil and -patience which stretched far ahead. - -A tiny glimpse of the daily fighting, which she like all others had to -go through, may be seen in the succeeding letter, written to her sister, -Laura, a year or two before the death of old Mr. Tucker:-- - - ‘I obeyed you in putting your note into the fire, after twice - perusing it; but it seemed a shame so to destroy what was so - sweet. How little you and I have been with each other lately, - yet I do not think that we love one another one particle the - less,--I think that I can answer for myself at least. May God - prosper your humble efforts, my sweet Laura. I enter into all - your feelings.... - - ‘I do not like to overload dear Bella with advice. It appears - almost presumptuous from a younger sister; but I threw in my - word now and then. But what am I?... I fear that I have been - peevish with ---- to-day. I feel discontented with myself, and - need your prayers.’ - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -A.D. 1854-1857 - -CRIMEA, AND THE INDIAN MUTINY - - -In the year 1854 Mr. St. George Tucker again came home from India; and in -the autumn he took his Mother and sisters for three months to The Mote, -an old country house about six miles north of Tonbridge, hoping that the -change would do good to Mrs. Tucker’s health and spirits. Those were -the terrible days of the Crimean War; and in that autumn the battles of -Balaclava and Inkerman were fought. Several letters of interest belong to -about this period. - -TO MISS BELLA F. TUCKER. 1853. - - ‘I have found out a much better hero for you than your friend - Lord Marmion,--who, by-the-bye, had he lived in these days, - would have run a great chance of being transported for fourteen - years, or imprisoned for one with hard labour, for forgery. - Mere courage does not make a hero.... When I was about as old as - you are now, I had--besides Montrose, for whom I have a great - regard still--a great hero, a pirate! About as respectable a - man perhaps as Lord Marmion, and I was so fond of him, that I - remember jumping out of bed one night, when one of my sisters - laughed at him. - - ‘But I have grown older, dear, and have seen so many bubbles - break in my time that I am more on my guard. I look for - something more solid now. If you are allowed to read _Uncle - Tom’s Cabin_, or any part of it, pause when you have done, - and compare the old negro with Lord Marmion. You laugh at the - idea. What!--“the falcon crest and morion,”--“the scar on - his dark brow”--will not all this throw the poor ignorant - thick-lipped hero quite into the shade? Yes,--if a sparkling - bubble is more glorious than a diamond shut up in a black - case. Time touches the bubble, and it breaks,--I have given up - my pirate-hero,--but the diamond--never mind the black case! - “Uncle Tom” is a hero, and one worthy of the name.’ - -TO MRS HAMILTON--(LAURA). - - ‘THE MOTE, _Sept. 1, 1854_. - - ‘Your and your dear husband’s nice sunshiny notes reached me - this morning.... I believe that you are wise not to come here, - for the roads are very bad, and the climate not very bracing. - Sweet Mother says that it suits her very well, and I thrive - on it like anything, but not every one might be the better - for “water, water everywhere.” We have four pieces of water - close by us, besides the moat just under our windows. The Mote - nestles so curiously in a hollow of the hill, that when you - have walked a few hundred yards from it, and naturally turn - round to look at the noble mansion which you have left,--it is - actually _non inventus_. You would not know that you were near - the Mote at all. “What has become of our great house?” say you. - It has vanished like Aladdin’s fairy palace. - - ‘I feel sure that this is the identical old place that Mrs. - D’Oyly took us to see, where they said that some of the rooms - had not been opened for one hundred years. This suits me - exactly. As the boys say, “I am in clover.” Damp hurts me no - more than if I were a water-wagtail; but the same might not be - the case with you.... - - ‘What a good thing it has been for your little darling being at - so healthy a place during the trying time of teething. I shall - expect to see her still more improved, when I have the pleasure - of kissing her sweet lips again. How diverting it will be to - watch her when she first runs alone!... - - ‘Such nice letters from India! Dear Henry is having my Tales - translated into Hindustani, for the poor natives. Oh, pray, my - Laura, that a blessing may go with them. Dear Robin preaches - to upwards of a hundred blind, and bears the hot weather - wonderfully well.’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘THE MOTE, _Sept. 12, 1854_. - - ‘Many thanks for your welcome letter, your good news, and your - kind invitation. I should not wonder if the last were very - thankfully accepted some time next month; for it is quite - uncertain whether the L----s will let us remain here beyond - the six weeks, and almost quite certain that No. 3 will not be - ready for us then, in which case we had better scatter. The - boys indeed talk of standing a siege here, rather than give the - place up; but you see we are afraid of treachery in the camp, - having so many of the L----‘s servants. Then we might have - difficulty about provisions, for we should all grow desperately - thin upon the fish which Charlie catches. Besides which, the - moat might be waded, although it is a doubtful point whether - the wader could get on through the weeds and mud. I think, all - things considered, that we had better _not_ stand a siege. - - ‘My heart can quite re-echo the cheerful tone of your note, - love. I do indeed feel that we are loaded with blessings. I - enjoy this place exceedingly, it is so pretty; just the place - to “moon” about in. Don’t you remember Mrs. D’Oyly taking us to - see it, when we drove here in two carriages, and you were with - the sprightly, and I with the sedate party? I feel sure that - this was the identical old house. My room ought to be haunted, - only it is not. It is such a pity that you have not the fairy - carpet to come here without fatigue. But, as it is, you serve - as a magnet, to help to draw me back to Middlesex without - regret. - - ‘Kind love to dear Mr. Hamilton, and twenty kisses to the - Princess of babies. I can well imagine the pleasure that she is - to you--a large lump of sugar in your cup!’ - -TO MISS BELLA F. TUCKER. - - ‘_Dec. 12, 1854._ - - ‘We went to St. James’ Park to-day, to see Her Majesty on her - way to open Parliament. I had an excellent view of our poor - dear Queen; and the sight of her mournful subdued countenance, - as she bowed graciously to her people, but without the shadow - of a smile, quite touched my heart. This war weighs very - heavily upon her; and I am anxious to know whether she was able - to get through her speech without breaking down altogether. She - looked to-day as though it would have taken less to make her - weep than laugh. - - ‘How England is exerting herself to send comforts to her brave - sons in the Crimea! A lady was here to-day who, having seen - that books were thought desirable presents to the Army, made up - a box of them, which was to go to a Mr. S. who had offered to - receive them. But when her intended gift was known,--“O pray do - not send any more books!” was the poor receiver’s cry. “We have - seventy thousand volumes!” and they did not know how such a - tremendous library was to be forwarded. In the lint department, - parcels came in at the rate of two hundred a day! Good-bye.’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_Jan. 13, 1855._ - - ‘It is singular in how many ways last year I seemed to be - taught a lesson of patience. I was disappointed over and - over and over again. In one matter in which I was greatly - interested, I was so at least five times; but before the close - of the year I had cause to say with much pleasure,--“I am glad - that I was disappointed.” Another time I had a very heavy heart - from a different source of disappointment; and some months - later I was grieved, even, I am half ashamed to say, to tears; - and yet before December was out I was actually glad of both - these disappointments, as well as the five others; and a good - appeared to spring from the evil. Now, if I am inclined to be - impatient,--and _very_ impatient I am by nature,--I try to - remember my experience, and really to get the valuable lesson - by heart. I think it a good plan at the end of a year to review - the whole, to try and find out what especial lesson has been - set one to learn in it. I found it to be _praise_ one year; - last year _patience_. I know not what it will be this year. I - hope that--but no, I will not write what I intended. Whatever - is, is best. We have not to choose our tasks, but to learn - them.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_June 15, 1855._ - - ‘What news have I to give you? We have had a nice note from - dear Henry to-day, saying nothing about health, except that - Robin is well. St. G. and I have just come from a loiter at - the Botanical Gardens, which showed us that we need be under - no great concern, were hemp and flax exterminated from the - vegetable world, and silkworms to leave off being spinsters, as - we could dress cheaply and well on plantain fibre, have capital - paper and excellent ropes, etc.’ - -In the August of 1855 she had the pleasure of going with her brother, Mr. -St. George Tucker, to the great French Exhibition at Paris. This was the -celebrated occasion of the Queen’s visit to Napoleon, after the close -of the Crimean War; and Paris was thronged. So full was the place that -rooms in Paris itself were not to be had, and they went to an hotel in -Versailles, occupying apartments which had once been occupied by Louis -Napoleon. Charlotte’s warlike enthusiasm showed itself in the fact that -she was willing to pay twenty-five francs apiece for seats at the Champs -de Mars, where they might witness the review of 45,000 French troops. -When Her Majesty had quitted Paris, it became possible to obtain rooms at -the Hôtel Bristol. - -From Versailles she wrote to Mrs. Hamilton, on the 21st of August:-- - - ‘DEAREST WIFEY,[5]--You wished for a letter from France, so - here is one; but if you expect a description of what I have - seen, I really cannot undertake to give you even a _précis_. - Paris surpasses my expectations. All in its gala dress as it - is now, swarming with people, crowded with soldiers, gay with - fluttering flags and triumphal arches,--it is really a sight - in itself. The grand Exposition of pictures is splendid; it is - only too large. I was amused at it by a lady coming up to me, - and politely requesting me to inform her who Ophelia was. An - old French lady, looking at a picture of the burial of Harold, - and, I suppose, feeling that the subject might be painful to me - as a Saxon, politely assured me of her regret at that monarch’s - death! “Let bygones be bygones,” say I. - - ‘Most of the French foot-soldiers are very little fellows, - compared to some of our troops; but amongst the Cavalry are - very fine tall men. The Zouaves are very heathenish-looking - warriors. They dress something like Turks, with all about their - throats so perfectly bare that they quite invite you to cut - their heads off. - - ‘St. G. and I so enjoyed this exquisite evening in the stately - gardens! A fine military band was performing, the people were - happily listening, little children skipping about, the glorious - sunset tints illuminating a palace fit for the “grand Monarch.” - - ‘We have seen our Sovereign Lady three times, which was being - in great luck. I am rather tired of writing, so will only add - kindest love, and beg you to believe me your ever attached, - - C. M. TUCKER. - - _‘P.S._--I told a fat funny little French baba to-day that I - had a niece younger than herself, and asked her if she would - not like to see her. The answer was unsatisfactory.’ - -The Crimean War was ended; and two years later came the outbreak of the -Indian Mutiny, with its awful carnage, its heaps of slain, its tortured -women and children, its heroic determination, its dauntless courage. Then -was seen a Continent, lost apparently in one day, won back to the British -Crown by mere handfuls of indomitable men facing armed myriads. Such a -tale had never been told before. - -If Charlotte’s patriotism had been stirred by the Crimean struggle, this -came nearer to her yet! She had five brothers, all in India, all more or -less in daily peril. Mr. Henry Carre Tucker was Commissioner at Benares; -Mr. St. George Tucker was at Mirzapore; Mr. William Tucker was in a less -acutely unsafe position; Mr. Charlton Tucker, after seeing his Colonel -shot down, was for weeks in hiding. All these escaped. But her early -companion, Robert,--the father of her ‘Robins,’--was among the slain; -and the three children, already long half-orphaned, became now wholly -orphaned. - -Robert Tucker’s remarkable powers, and his successes at Haileybury, have -been earlier spoken about. Naturally of a serious and stern disposition, -though not without lighter traits, he had been a good deal saddened by -troubles, which no doubt resulted in the more complete dedication of -himself and all that he possessed to the Service of his Divine Master. A -short sketch of his life, written by his sister Charlotte, and published -by the S.P.C.K., tells of his work at Futteypore, where for many years he -was Judge. - -About four years before the Mutiny he had written home about the -‘extraordinary success’ which was attending his Christian school, -established and kept going by himself. On Sundays he was in the habit of -regularly addressing a collected crowd of Natives; literally ‘the poor, -the maimed, the halt, the blind’; and he did not teach them only, but -also ministered liberally to their bodily needs. - -In her little sketch Charlotte says of him,--‘Careless of his own -comfort, restricting his personal expenses to a very narrow compass, he -gave to the Missionary cause at the rate of forty pounds monthly, and one -year even more’; adding that with ‘shrinking from ostentation’ he had -never given his name on these occasions. And again--‘It was his deep and -abiding sense of the debt which he owed to his Saviour, which made the -Judge devote not only his substance but his heart and his soul to the -Lord. How deep was the gratitude which he expressed in these words--“If -every hair upon my head were a life, it would be too little to sacrifice -to the Lord Jesus Christ!”’ - -A clue to many things in Charlotte’s own later life may be perhaps found -here. There can be no doubt that the story of her brother’s self-denying -life and tragical death made a profound impression upon her mind. His -example, long after, was closely copied by this sister, when she too -‘restricted her personal expenses to a very narrow compass,’ precisely as -he had done, and with the same object, that she might have the more to -give away. Also his energy in teaching was reflected by her own burning -desire, in old age, to speak on all occasions to the Natives of their -deepest needs, and never to miss an opportunity of trying to lead some -poor Hindu or Muhammadan to Christ, always with the vivid sense upon her, -when she met man or woman, that the call to herself might come before -they could meet again, and so a second opportunity might never recur. -Another eighteen years had, however, yet to elapse before she would go -out to India, to follow in his steps, and to render to Hindustan a loving -return for this ‘year of horrors.’ - -In June 1857, like a thunder-clap, not indeed utterly unforeseen but -practically unexpected by the majority of Englishmen, came the fearful -outbreak; and for a while it did really almost seem that the British -Raj in India was at an end. But those who thought so were soon to be -undeceived. - -When first the storm broke, Robert Tucker did not expect to be himself -one of its earlier victims. His brother, Mr. St. George Tucker, -says,--‘Robert was in high spirits when the Mutiny broke out. He wrote to -me that he had seen a magnificent horse, and that if he could buy him, -he could ride from Futteypore to Delhi, and soon finish the war. Robert -was the Judge, and Sherer was the Magistrate. Sherer decided that all the -Europeans must leave Futteypore and fly to Banda. Robert refused to leave -Futteypore, and said that his duty required him to protect the Natives. -The rest of the Europeans went off to Banda.’ - -Many Native Christians fled also,--among others a Native Catechist, Gopi -Nath. He was taken by Muhammadans, imprisoned and cruelly treated; and he -it was whose sinking courage was revived by the almost dying words of the -English boy-officer, Arthur Cheek, the ‘Martyr of Allahabad.’ - -But with the spirit of a soldier, Robert Tucker, the intrepid Judge of -Futteypore, remained at his post, the only European among countless -Natives, bent still on doing his duty. - -The night preceding the tenth of June he passed at his Cutcherry or -Office; and in the early morning news was brought that his own house -had been set on fire. He then tried to collect some of the landholders, -to protect the Natives in the town, and their houses; but not all his -efforts could prevent the burning of the latter. His next step was to -ride off to the Jail, in the hope of securing the prisoners; but he was -too late, the prisoners having been already set at liberty. Mr. Tucker -fearlessly reprimanded the Jail-Guard; whereupon the Guard, belonging -to a bad Cawnpore regiment, opened fire. Though every shot missed, Mr. -Tucker must then have seen that all was up. Everything was in confusion; -the Native officers would not support him; and he stood absolutely alone. - -He rode to the Cutcherry, no man daring to intercept him, and took up -his position on the top; and for hours he remained, fearless and calm, -awaiting his death. The day was intensely hot, causing him to suffer -terribly from thirst; and one of his horsekeepers at length brought him -some milk,--a deed of mercy, which shows that one man at least was not -devoid of gratitude. - -‘There he remained during that fearful day,’ wrote Charlotte Tucker. -‘There, as evening was closing in, he made his last lion-like stand, when -the fanatic Musselmans, bearing a green flag, the emblem of their faith, -came in a fierce crowd to attack him.’ How many he shot as they advanced -is not certain; some say twenty, or even thirty; but at length one of -his assailants shot him in the head, and the moment he fell, they took -courage to rush up the stairs and to finish their work. - -For Robert Tucker himself, cut off though he was in the very prime of -life, there could be no regrets, except on the score of all that he -might have done, had he lived. No man could be more ready than he was -to go. But the blow fell heavily on those who loved him; and though for -nine years he had not seen his children, whereby the sorrow to them was -softened, yet the loss to their future could not but be great. - -‘So he fell,’ wrote one who had escaped; ‘and in his fall the constant -and fervent prayer of his latter days was answered, for he fell at the -post of duty. All who knew him well mourn in him the loss of a true and -noble friend, generous even to prodigality, highly talented, a thorough -gentleman, and an upright judge.’ - -Mention of this event was made at the time in the Journal Letter of -Viscountess Canning,[6] worth quoting in addition to the above. - - ’ ... The story of Futteypore is a strange one. The whole country - round was gone, and there was a large Sepoy guard in the - treasury, and every reason to believe they would rise, so all - the Europeans took to boats, and went away to safe stations - down the river, and I think to Banda. Only Mr. Tucker, the - magistrate, would not stir, and remained with fifty Sepoys - and the treasury. He was son to the late Director, Sir George - Tucker,[7] and was one of the four brothers whose names we - hear constantly, and he was as brave as a lion. He had a - deputy-magistrate--a Mohammedan--in a high position, treated as - a gentleman, and in as high a place as a native could occupy, - next to himself. To this man had been given a body of mounted - police, and he undertook to keep the country clear between - the great trunk road and the river for some distance. He did - it admirably, and took delight in it, and sent in detailed - reports up to the last. But when he heard of some more places - being gone, he suddenly returned to the treasury, to which - his position gave him access, dismissed the fifty Sepoys with - a thousand rupees apiece, and then attacked Mr. Tucker with - all his police force. Mr. Tucker was killed, after defending - himself till he had killed with his own hand, some say sixteen, - some twenty men. I suppose he had a whole battery of revolvers, - and so kept his assailants at bay.’ - -Though Robert was gone, other brothers of Charlotte Tucker were still in -hourly danger; and the pressure of anxiety went on for months, as shown -by letters of the time. - -TO MISS B. F. TUCKER. - - ‘_Sept. 9, 1857._ - - ‘I need not say how I long for tidings from India. Most - especially do I desire news of Havelock’s precious little army. - Upon its success, humanly speaking, may hang the safety of all - our beloved ones in India.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Sept. 19, 1857._ - - ‘We are longing for our letters, but I do not think we shall - get them till Tuesday. Dearest Mother tries not to think more - of India than she can help, and has, I am glad to say, given - up reading the papers, so we only give her the good part of - the news verbally. I could not endure to be kept in the dark - myself. I go every day to fetch the papers. I half live on - them, and would far rather go without a meal than not see - them.... We heard from poor dear Mrs. Thornhill to-day. She hopes - that Henry and his wife are in Lucknow. Such a hope is not - worth much, one would think.’ - -TO MISS B. F. TUCKER. - - ‘_Sept. 21, 1857._ - - ‘God be with our brave and beloved ones! My heart feels very - low--worse than before the letters arrived. We hide from dear - Grandmamma that Mirzapore is threatened. She only knows that - the troops are there; not why they have been sent. N---- W---- - has sent his dear wife and children to Calcutta. He feels so - desolate without them, but takes the separation as a lesson - from his Merciful Father to set his affections more on things - above.... Does not your heart sicken for Lucknow?’ - -All through England hearts were ‘sickening for Lucknow,’ at this time. -But the Cawnpore-like catastrophe, dreaded for Lucknow, did not come. The -rescuing party mercifully arrived in time. As months went by, the Mutiny -was stamped out from end to end of India; and no second Tucker was added -to the roll of England’s martyrs there. - -Just before the outbreak Mr. Henry Carre Tucker seems to have requested -that some copies of his sister’s books might be sent out to him for -distribution: and an interesting letter was written by her on the subject -to Messrs. Gall and Inglis. - - ‘_July 17, 1857._ - - ‘SIR,--I am glad to hear that the box is likely soon to be - on its way to my dear brother. We have been in great anxiety - on account of him and his family, as Benares, the station of - which he is the head, with a population of 180,000, is one of - the most wicked places in India, a “holy city,” a stronghold - of fanaticism. My brother has taken a bolder part in upholding - Missions, and spreading religious literature, than almost any - one else in the country; therefore, if Benares had followed - the example of Delhi, the terrible event might have been - attributed to his excess of zeal. - - ‘The Almighty, to whom my brother attributes the glory, has - hitherto watched over Benares in so marked a manner, that it - remained quiet in the midst of disturbances; and my young niece - has bravely ridden through it by her father’s side, giving - confidence to the timid by her fearlessness.... But a few lines - in the telegraph, read aloud in Parliament, informs us that the - troops in Benares had risen at last, and been driven out of - the city with great loss. I await the next mail with intense - anxiety. I have five brothers in India.’ - -It is interesting to know that Mr. Henry Carre Tucker devoted himself -a year later to the task of helping forward in every possible way -Missionary work in India, as a species of ‘Christian revenge’ for the -death of Robert and the sufferings of his countrymen. He took a leading -part in starting the ‘Christian Literature Society for India,’ and was -for a while himself its Honorary Secretary. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -A.D. 1857-1865 - -LIFE’S EARLY AFTERNOON - - -One-half of the life of Charlotte Tucker was now over; a quiet and -uneventful life thus far. If we like, we may mentally divide her story -into four quarters, each about eighteen years in length, corresponding -to Early Morning, Noontide, Afternoon, and Evening. The first eighteen -years of her Early Morning had been, perhaps, as bright and cloudless -as the existence of any girl could well be. In the succeeding Noontide -hours she had known still much of brightness, though they included her -first great sorrow, and ended with her second. Also, in the course of -that Noontide she had entered upon her career of authorship, with all its -hopes and aims, its hard work and its delights. Probably none who have -not experienced it for themselves can quite understand the fascinations -of authorship. - -Now she had passed her Noontide, and was entering on the hours of early -Afternoon. Eighteen years of that Afternoon still lay between the dark -days of the Indian Mutiny and her own going out to India, for the Evening -of her Life,--the fourth and last eighteen years, which were to be the -fullest and the busiest of all her busy days. - -We have first to do with the earlier portion of the Third Period; a -period including much work, many interests, and some deep griefs. -Between 1857 and 1866, however, lay a quiet stretch of everyday life, -distinguished by no rocks or rapids. The river flowed on peacefully for a -while. - -Life at No. 3 continued much as it had been in years past. Many friends -were in and out, and were always cordially welcomed. Mrs. Tucker, since -her husband’s death, had made one difference, in that she no longer gave -dinner-parties; but luncheons were in full swing, to any extent; and -Charlotte’s powers of entertaining were still in abundant requisition. - -No better place can well be found than this for part of a letter to A. -L. O. E.’s nephew,--the Rev. W. F. T. Hamilton, son of her favourite -sister,--from Sir Francis Outram, son of General Sir James Outram, of -celebrated memory. - - ‘_June 25, 1894._ - - ‘My recollections of No. 3 Portland Place and of its typically - kind inmates carry me back just half a century. But they are - very clear, though, I regret to add, only of a general and - intangible character. - - ‘Mr. Tucker I recall with grave respect, unmingled with awe, - as evidently one of the wisest and most influential of my - Parents’ proved friends. Mrs. Tucker retains an honoured place - in memories of these and later days as the kindest and most - liberal of “old aunts,”--so she desired me to designate her, - and at once adopted me into her very large circle of favoured - nephews and nieces,--the inexhaustible source of varied - goodnesses, especially such as were of the most approved edible - nature. - - ‘Their sons I cannot recall, except as the genial and trusty - friends of later life. But the five daughters of the house none - of us who enjoyed their unselfish kindness at all stages of our - youth can ever forget. - - ‘Of the two who ere long became successively “Miss Tucker,” - however, you would alone wish me to speak. They cannot be - dissociated in the memory of the generations of young people, - whose privilege it was to be entertained and gratified by their - unwearied attention throughout many a long holiday afternoon - and evening, while stuffed by Mrs. Tucker _ad libitum_ with all - the best things of the season. - - ‘As we grew older, we not only more fully understood the - exceptional boundlessness of old-fashioned hospitality - and kindness which that house and household exemplified - thoroughly, but we came to understand somewhat of the - heart-source whence issued that truest manifestation, of - “everyday religion,” which evidences itself in an absolutely - unselfish consecration,--consistent, unreserved, and - essentially practical,--for everyday wear, and not only under - “stimulating environments.” Such was the life’s lesson which - our association with these two now ageing sisters suggested to - us. - - ‘Miss Charlotte had, as you know, much of the Romantic in her - composition.... In person she was always slight, and somewhat - fragile-looking. Indeed, both she and Miss Fanny gave one the - impression of being too incessantly though quietly busy about - everything that promoted the happiness of other people, to ever - become stout, or to cultivate dress and appearances, beyond - what was consistent with the aims and duties and requirements - of a fully occupied home-life. - - ‘Mrs. Tucker could not quite keep pace with the new-fashioned - unconventionalities of “young-lady work” in London; and one - of the object-sermons, which most impressed me in my College - days, was the beautiful self-restraint which these two - sisters--no longer young--imposed upon themselves, in deference - to their aged Mother’s wishes, in regard to that outside work - which inclination, or one might say conviction, as well as - opportunity and qualifications, impelled them to participate in. - - ‘Still the unbounded hospitality of the “open house” in - Portland Place went on; and still they were content to devote - their time, talents, and energies to successive generations of - juveniles and elder guests, without a murmur.’ - -One can well believe that the self-restraint had to be severe in -Charlotte’s case, with her abounding energies, and her eager desires for -usefulness. But she patiently abided her time; and she did not wait in -vain. These were years of quiet preparation. - -In appearance at this time Charlotte was, as ever, tall and -thin,--decidedly tall, her height being five feet six inches, or two -inches over her Mother’s height, and only one inch short of her Father’s. -She had still as of old a peculiarly elastic and springy mode of walking; -and while possessing no pretensions to actual good looks, there was much -charm of manner, together with great animation. Still, as ever, she threw -herself energetically into the task of entertaining others, no matter -whether those ‘others’ were young or old, attractive or uninteresting. -This at present was a main duty of her life, and she never neglected -or slurred it. Still, as ever, she was guided and restrained by her -Mother’s wishes, yielding her own desires when the two wills, or the two -judgments, happened to lie in opposite directions. - -Although not really fond of work, Charlotte was a beautiful knitter. She -would make most elaborate antimacassars, of delicate lace-like patterns, -invented by her own busy brain; and while working thus she was able to -read Shakespeare aloud. Her Father had loved Shakespeare, and Charlotte -had early caught the infection of this love, never afterwards to lose it. - -Visiting in the Marylebone Workhouse went on steadily; she and Fanny -usually going together, until Fanny’s health began to fail, which was -probably not until after 1864. - -Fanny was _par excellence_ the gentle sister; very sweet, very -unselfish; always the one who would silently take the most uncomfortable -chair in the room; always the one to put others forward, yet in so -quiet and unobtrusive a fashion that the fact was often not remarked -until afterwards. Of Charlotte it has been said by one who knew her -intimately,--‘I wonder whether before the year 1850 any one has described -her as “gentle.”’ The gentleness, which was with Fanny a natural -characteristic, had to be a slow after-growth with the more vehement and -resolute younger sister. Many a sharp blow upon the golden staff of her -Will was needful for this result. - -As an instance of Fanny’s peculiar gentleness, it is told that one -Sunday, when she saw a man trying to sell things, she went up and -remonstrated with him, speaking very seriously, but in so mild and -courteous a manner, so entirely as she would have spoken to one who was -socially on her own level, that he was utterly unable to take offence. -She was also very generous, giving liberally to the poor out of her -limited dress-allowance, in earlier girlish days. This same generosity -was a marked feature in the character of Charlotte; perhaps especially in -later years. - -Fanny was of middle height, and thin, with dark eyes; very neat and -orderly in her ways, wherein she was the opposite of Charlotte, who -was famed for untidiness in her arrangements. Charlotte was, however, -methodical in plans of action, and in literary work; and later in life -she seems to have struggled hard after habits of greater tidiness, as -a matter of principle. But in middle life she could still speak of her -drawers as--at least sometimes--supplying a succession of ‘surprises.’ - -Her ‘little Robins’ were now growing up, an ever-increasing care and -interest to her loving heart; and the devotion which she felt for Letitia -was of a most intense nature. The two boys were of course much away at -school; but Letitia was always with her,--until the year 1865, when it -was decided that she should go out to her uncle, Mr. St. George Tucker, -in India. Moreover, many other little nieces and nephews had a warm -place in the life of ‘Aunt Char,’ none more so than the children of her -especial sister-friend, one of whom was her own god-child. - -Side by side with innumerable home-duties and home-pleasures went on -the continual writing of little books for children; one or two at least -appearing every year. The amount of work in one such volume is not heavy; -but A. L. O. E.’s other calls were many. And she was not writing for a -livelihood, or even for the increased comforts, whether of herself or -of others dependent upon her; therefore it could not be placed in the -front rank of home-duties. The Tuckers were sufficiently well off; and -Charlotte is believed to have devoted most or all of the proceeds of her -pen to charitable purposes. - -To secure a certain amount of leisure for work, she accustomed herself to -habits of early rising. Her Mother had always strongly objected to late -hours, making the rule for her girls,--‘If you can, always hear eleven -o’clock strike in bed.’ Charlotte is said to have made her a definite -promise never to write books late at night; and through life this promise -was most scrupulously adhered to. - -Since she was debarred from late hours, and since in those days she could -never be sure of her time through the day, early morning was all that -remained to her. Punctually, therefore, at six o’clock she got up,--like -her hero, Fides, conquering Giant Sloth,--and thus made sure of at least -an hour’s writing before breakfast. In winter months, when others had -fires at night in their bedrooms, Charlotte denied herself the luxury, -that she might have it in the morning instead for her work. The fire was -laid over-night, and she lighted it herself when she arose; long before -the maid came to call her. - -Later in the day she wrote if she could and when she could. No doubt also -she found many an opportunity for thinking over her stories, and planning -what should come next. She usually had the tale clear in her mind before -putting pen to paper; so that no time was lost when an hour for actual -work could be secured. - -A sitting-room behind the dining-room of No. 3, called ‘the parlour,’ -was by common consent known as her room. Here she would sit and compose -her books; but she made of it no hermitage. Here she would be invaded -by nieces, nephews, children, anybody who wanted a word with ‘Aunt -Char.’ And she was ready always for such interruptions. Writing was -with her, as we have seen, not the main business of life, but merely an -adjunct,--an additional means of usefulness. Since she had secured the -one early uninterrupted hour, other hours might take their chance, and -anybody’s business might come before her own business. With all these -breaks, and in spite of them, she yet managed in the course of years to -accomplish a long list of children’s books. - -One of the said nieces, Miss Annie Tucker, writes respecting certain -visits that she paid to her grandmother, Mrs. Tucker, at Portland Place:-- - - ‘In each of these visits it was always my beloved Aunt - Charlotte who entertained me,--if I may use the word,--though I - was a mere child; and she did it just as if I were a grown-up - person. I could never see that she took less pains to interest - me than she did to please the many grown-up people who called. - She usually entertained us in her room behind the dining-room, - so that my grandmother should not be wearied too much. - - ‘How often have I gone in and out of her room, with a freedom - which now almost surprises me! but she never seemed interrupted - by my entrance. I have seen her put down her pen, though she - was evidently preparing MS. for the press, and attend to any - little thing I wanted to say, without one exclamation of - vexation or annoyance, or a resigned-resignation look, that - some people put on on such occasions, at her literary work - being put a stop to. And yet I am sure that was not because she - did not mind being interrupted.’ - -It is not for a moment to be implied that all hard toilers in life -are bound to follow precisely here the example of A. L. O. E. -Circumstances differ in different cases. Often the work itself is of -supreme importance; the interruptions are unnecessary and undeserving -of attention. If everybody worked as Charlotte Tucker worked at that -particular period, the amount accomplished would in some cases be very -small, and in other cases, where undivided attention is essential, the -result would be absolute failure. In her case the literary work was of -a simple description, and the home-calls appeared to be distinctly -first in importance. But the spirit which she showed was well worthy of -imitation. Many, whose favourite occupations are, to say the least, no -whit more pressing than were her books, are exceedingly tenacious of -their time, and exceedingly impatient of interruptions; and with too -many the home-calls come second to all personal interests. It was far -otherwise with Charlotte Tucker. Whatever had to be done, she was ready -to do it,--not one iota more ready to write her books, or to visit in -the Workhouse, than to teach the ‘Robins,’ to amuse visitors, old or -young, to entertain guests at dinner or luncheon, to take her part in a -family ‘glee,’ to join in merry games, to conduct friends on sight-seeing -expeditions. No matter what it might be, she did it willingly, throwing -her whole energy into the matter in hand, always at everybody’s service, -never allowing herself to appear worried or bored. - -Despite her somewhat fragile appearance, and an appetite commonly small, -there must have been a marvellous amount of underlying strength,--of the -‘wiriness’ which often belongs to delicate-looking people. If tired, -she seldom confessed the fact, and never made a fuss about it. Her -extraordinary vitality and mental vigour carried her through what would -have entirely laid by many another in her place. - -The following extracts are from letters ranging between 1861 and the -beginning of 1866:-- - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Nov. 6, 1861._ - - ‘Will you kindly tell my Letitia that I have put up her - paint-box, to be sent to Somerset House, as I dare say that - your dear husband will kindly take charge of the little parcel.... - - ‘The weather here has not been very choice. We had candles at - luncheon yesterday. We make ourselves very happy, however, - by vigorous reading. In the evening we discourse with Queen - Elizabeth, Leicester, Paul Buys, and Olden Barneveldt, etc.; - in the morning we go out hunting with M. Chaillu, plunging - amongst hippopotami and crocodiles, demolishing big black - serpents, or perhaps capturing a baby-gorilla, more troublesome - than dear Edgy himself. - - ‘We are all just now in a state of indignation about your - pork! Don’t suppose that it is any fault in the pork; on the - contrary, it is acknowledged to be the most “refined” pork ever - known; and Mother says that if she shut her eyes, she would - not know that she was not eating chicken!! We had a beautiful - roast of it one day at luncheon; and Mother cut off a choice - bit, to be reserved for our table, cold, while the servants - were indulged with the rest of that joint. To-day Mother asked - for our reserved bit. Would you believe it?--those dreadfully - greedy servants had eaten _our_ bit as well as their own, - though they had legs of mutton on Friday and Saturday, and - a 22 lb. joint of roastbeef on Sunday! Do you marvel at our - indignation? Mother means to call some one to account. She puts - all the pathos of the question upon _me_. Miss Charlotte to be - disappointed of her reserved bit of pork! I can hardly keep - my countenance, but of course must not disclaim my interest - in the question. These greedy servants must be kept in order. - It is not for nothing that we read of valiant encounters with - alligators and hippopotami.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Dec. 3, 1862._ - - ‘DEAREST LAURA,--We at last opened our piano, and your song has - been thoroughly examined. The result is that some parts are - much liked. Clara was so much pleased with the verse about the - Rose, that after singing it over for Mother’s benefit she sang - it three times over for her own. The words are not worthy of - the music; it ought to be sacred; and I intend to copy it out - in my own little music-book as a hymn, so that its interest - will not die away with that of the bridal.[8] The part next - best liked is the Shamrock verse; and if I might venture a - suggestion, I think that the whole of the “We hail thee” might - be set to it; only the “glittering” accompaniment must be - confined to the Shamrock verse. I think people often like the - repetition of one air over and over, far better than a great - variety. - - The air is flowing and attractive, and there is no harm in its - brevity. The first part, “We hail thee,” has a transition, - which we fear that the rules of thorough-bass might not permit; - and the Thistle is hardly equal to either the Shamrock or - the Rose,--of which, you see, I would make a _separate_ song - and hymn. If you would write out the song to the music of the - former, I do not see why we should not try to get it accepted - by a publisher. I hope that you will excuse my thus venturing - to criticise your song and so unmercifully to cut it short. - - ‘I will give on the next page the words which I propose - putting--for my own use--to the hymn part. Very little - alteration will make them go very well to the air, for I have - tried them; and the repetition of the last words, which your - sweet music requires, suits lines the whole emphasis of which - falls on the closing words; at least I fancy so.’ - -The lines following are given here, not exactly as they appeared in the -letter, but in the corrected and improved form which afterwards appeared -in print with the music:-- - - ‘The Lord He is my strength and stay, - When sorrow’s cup o’erflows the brim; - It sweetens all if we can say, - “This is from Him!” - All comfort, comfort, flows from Him. - - ‘When humbly labouring for my Lord, - Faint grows the heart and weak the limb, - What strength and joy are in the words, - “This is for Him!” - ’Tis sweet to spend our strength for Him. - - ‘I hope for ever to abide - Where dwell the radiant Seraphim; - Delivered, pardoned, glorified; - But ’tis through Him! - All light and glory flow from Him. - - ‘Then welcome be the hour of death, - When Nature’s lamp burns low and dim, - If I can cry with dying breath, - “I go to Him!” - For Life Eternal flows from Him.’ - -TO MISS BELLA F. TUCKER. - - ‘_Feb. 11, 1862._ - - ‘I have read your touching account of your most sorely - afflicted friend with great interest. I visit the Imbecile - Ward,[9] and I fear that she must be in the Insane Ward; but I - will be sure to make inquiries, and perhaps I may find that I - can follow her thither. I am not timid. Very very glad should I - be to impart any comfort in such a case of awful distress; but - I fear that she may not understand even sympathy.’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_Feb. 26, 1862._ - - ‘I went to our afflicted friend.... I talked to her as - comfortingly as I could, and told her that I thought this sad - trial might be sent that she might be like Christiana, walking - on a Heavenward path, with all her children with her. I was - glad to draw forth one or two tears, for tearless anguish is - the most terrible. She said that she prayed the Lord to take - her. I did not think that a good prayer, but suggested that - she should ask the Lord to come to her, as to the disciples - in the storm. She has promised to repeat the two very little - prayers, “Lord, come to me”; and “Lord, make my children Thine, - for Jesus’ sake.” It was touching to hear her repeating softly, - again and again,--“Make me Thine! make me Thine!”’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_March 25, 1862._ - - ‘Though still very low to-day, Mrs. ---- did not seem to me - to be inaccessible to religious comfort. I fancied that there - was a little lightening of the darkness.... I do not know of - anything that she wants. I have supplied her with working - materials. Perhaps a little book with pictures in it is as good - as anything, as amusing without fatiguing the mind.... I know the - beautiful large texts that you allude to; but I do not know - where they could well be fixed in the Insane Ward. They are - more, I think, for the bedridden.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘GRESFORD, _Sept. 13, 1863_. - - ‘I thought of you as I stood on the soft green slope down - to the water, and looked on the bright little stream, with - its white foam sparkling in the sunlight. How much of its - beauty it owes to the pebbles that fret it; and how much of - its rapidity to the fall in its course. But in our lives, how - we--at least I--shrink from the pebbles! How we would fain have - all glassy smooth,--though Nature itself teaches us that then - it would become stagnant. The “sea of glass” is for another - world.... - - ‘I sometimes think that consoling is one of the most delightful - employments given to God’s servants. It is pleasanter than - teaching; far far more so than reproving others, or struggling - against evil, or examining our own hearts. You were a comfort - to poor dear ----, and I dare say that the sense of being so - lightened your own trial of parting. I would give a _great - deal_ to have your influence with ----; but the Almighty has - not been pleased to grant me this. Perhaps He will some day.’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_July 29, 1864._ - - ‘I want particularly to know whether, in case I see my way to - gaining money by it for some religious or charitable purpose, - you will make me a present of that little bit of your welcome - to the Princess which I have turned into a hymn. Also whether - you would mind Mrs. Hamilton’s name being published on it. The - hymn has been ringing so in my ears, and with such a soothing - effect when I did not feel particularly cheerful, that I should - like others to have the same comfort. I have made inquiries as - to the cost of printing and publishing it.... Being very short, - I do not think that much could be asked; and this is perhaps - the gem of your music. I do not want it to be done at your - expense, but at my own, and to manage everything after my own - fashion,--but I cannot plunder you either of your music or your - name without your leave.... - - ‘Dear Fanny is better, though still prisoner to her room. She - has had a sharp attack of fever; and I am afraid it will be - difficult to throw off the cough. The rest of our party are - well, as I trust that I may find you and your dear circle.’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_Aug. 1, 1864._ - - ‘Your and your dear husband’s sweet notes quite added to the - cheerfulness of our breakfast-table. Even Fanny did not appear - knocked down by your tender scolding. She, for the first time - since Tuesday, came to breakfast. She still needs great care, - for the cold was on her chest, and even speaking is liable to - make her cough. Mother highly approves of your plan of coming - to town. She desires me to say that she knows that her face is - before you, as yours is before her. Dear Fanny will probably - not start for Brighton till Wednesday week, so she will have - the pleasure of welcoming you, and I am sure that you will try - not to let her be loquacious.... - - ‘Many thanks for your kind present of the music. I am going - to have it printed by converted Jews, and the entire profits - devoted to the Society for the Conversion of Jews; so that it - will be a little offering from us both to one of the holiest of - causes.... I take the expense of the edition of 500 copies. They - are to be sold for 1s. apiece; so if all are sold there is a - contribution of £25 clear to the Society.... I am rather hopeful - that the whole edition will go off before Christmas; for one - shilling is not a formidable sum, especially when people can - get a new song and help a good cause at the same time.... I take - great pleasure in this little piece of business. I have been - quite _haunted_ by the music. I am ordering the plate to be - preserved, in case of a Second Edition being required. So Mrs. - Hamilton is going to come out as a Composer!’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.[10] - - ‘_March 31, 1865._ - - ‘MY DEAR GOD-DAUGHTER,--I shall like to think of you - particularly to-morrow, because it is the Anniversary of the - day when your dear parents in church solemnly presented their - precious little first-born babe to God; and I stood there to - answer for her. Dear Leila, may each return of that day find - you drawing nearer and nearer to Him who said, “Suffer the - little children to come unto Me.” If we could only feel in - our hearts that He really does love us, and that He deigns to - care whether we love Him, what a motive it would be for doing - everything as in His sight! We are too apt to think of our - Saviour as very far off, and with so many to care for that - we are almost beneath His notice. But this is wrong. The Sun - shines and sparkles on every dewdrop in a field, as much as - if it were the only dewdrop in the world. He does not pass it - over, because it is little; he makes it beautiful in his light, - and then draws it up towards himself.... I wish that I could - come and pay you a visit; but I do not see how I am to leave - Grandmamma as long as dear Aunt Fanny is an invalid. I seem - wanted at home.’ - -It may have been somewhere about this year, or not very long before it, -that Charlotte wrote the following pretty and graceful lines:-- - - ‘Each silver thread that glitters in the hair, - Is like a wayside landmark,--planted there - To show Earth’s pilgrims, as they onward wend, - How nearly they approach their journey’s end!’ - - - - -CHAPTER X - -A.D. 1864-1866 - -A HEAVY SHADOW - - -The afternoon shadows were again to darken around Charlotte Tucker; and -one blow after another had to fall. Her mother was growing old, and in no -long time would be called away. The health of her gentle sister, Fanny, -had begun to fail, never to be entirely restored. But a yet sharper -sorrow, because utterly unlooked for, was to come before the loss of -either her mother or her sister, like a flash of lightning into the midst -of clear sunshine. - -Of all the many whom she dearly loved, none perhaps lay closer to her -heart than Letitia, the only daughter of her brother Robert,--the -youngest of ‘the Robins.’ The two boys were now out in the world, -one in India, one at sea; but Letitia hitherto had never left her, -except for visits here or there among relatives and friends. One who -knew them both well describes the contrast between aunt and niece at -this period,--Charlotte Tucker, ‘so upright and animated, very thin, -fair, with auburn hair, not very abundant, but which curled slightly, -naturally,’--and Letitia, ‘grave, with beautiful dark eyes and hair, and -rather dark complexion.’ Another speaks of Letitia as tall and handsome, -with dark eyes, dark chestnut hair, regular features, and sweet smile. - -The gravity seems to have been a marked characteristic of this gifted -young girl. From very babyhood she was earnestly religious, and of a -peculiarly serious temperament; though at the same time energetic and -sometimes even lively. She had not her aunt’s spirit of fun; but the two -were alike in generosity and in determination. Perhaps Charlotte Tucker’s -training had especially developed these traits in her niece. A favourite -proverb of Letitia’s was--‘Perseverance conquers difficulties’;--and it -would have served equally well for A. L. O. E. - -Letitia was also very fond of little children, and she worked much among -the poor. She was an exceedingly good and fearless rider; and at twenty -years old there was already promise of a literary gift. Her passion for -reading was so great that Hallam’s _History_ was a recreation in her -eyes. She had written at least one short story, which had found its -way into print, and many pretty, simple verses, chiefly of a religious -character. One of her hymns, composed at the age of eighteen, may be -given here:-- - - ‘My soul was dark, for o’er its sight - The shades of sorrow fell;-- - In Thee alone there still was light, - Jesus, Immanuel! - - ‘And all around me and above - There hung a gloomy spell;-- - I should have died without Thy love, - Jesus, Immanuel! - - ‘For in my sinking heart there beat - An ever-sounding knell;-- - But still I knew the “promise sweet,” - Jesus, Immanuel! - - ‘I looked to Thee through all my fears, - The pain and grief to quell;-- - Thy Hand hath wiped away my tears, - Jesus, Immanuel! - - ‘I heard a low, “a still small voice,” - Soft whisper, “It is well”;-- - And knew the Saviour of my choice, - Jesus, Immanuel! - - ‘And still, o’er all life’s changing sea, - In calm or stormy swell, - I’ll look in faith straight up to Thee, - Jesus, Immanuel!’ - -On November 28, 1864, Letitia left English shores, to join her uncle, Mr. -St. George Tucker and his family, in India. Letters of Charlotte Tucker, -referring to the event, have not come to hand; but she must have felt -the separation very keenly, whatever might have been the precise reasons -which led to the move. Letitia had now been practically her child for -eighteen years; and a close tie existed between the two. But no doubt -Charlotte looked upon the parting as of a very temporary nature; as -merely sending her child away for a longer visit than any preceding. The -real anguish of separation came a year later, when suddenly the young -girl was summoned to her true Home. - -The few following extracts lie between these two dates,--the going of -Letitia to India, and the tidings of her death. - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_Jan. 3, 1865._ - - ‘Many thanks, my dear Leila, for your affectionate note.... There - was another nice cheerful note from my Letitia to-day. She - wrote it when on the Red Sea, which she evidently found very - warm, for she described the ship as a “hothouse,” and said that - she and her fellow-passengers would be “fine exotics” before - they arrived. There had been two Services on board on Sunday, - and Letitia had heard two excellent sermons. Mary Egerton had - her harmonium on board, which had been brought up from the - hold, so there was nice hymn-singing too. How sweet the music - must have sounded on the water! I think that, steaming over - the Red Sea, one would have liked to have raised the song of - the Israelites-- - - “Sound the loud timbrel o’er Egypt’s dark sea, - Jehovah hath triumphed, His people are free!” - - ‘My dear sailor is to leave us on the 17th or 18th for China. - I believe that he is to travel part of the journey in the - same vessel as the Cuthbert Thornhills, who were to have - taken charge of Letitia had our first arrangements held good. - They will have one Robin instead of the other. Poor dear Mrs. - Thornhill, what a sad parting is before her! I had a loving - note very lately from my Louis. He fears that he will not get - leave to see his dear sister for a twelve-month. - - ‘The weather here has been chilly. None of the ladies have - ventured out of the house since Saturday; but Charley has in - vain longed for skating. Ice forms, then melts again. Dear - Grandmamma keeps wonderfully free from cold; but then she - remains in the house.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. (Undated.) - - ‘My loved boy left us yesterday, quiet and firm, shedding no - tear. We (Mamma) had a little note from him this morning,--such - a simple one,--you might have fancied that he had only left us - for a week. Dear boy! I trust that he is going into sunshine; - above all I hope and pray that his Father’s God will ever be - with him. It would not have been well for him to have remained - much longer in London with nothing particular to do. Active - life is most wholesome to a fine strong man like my Charley.... - - ‘Dear Mother keeps well. Sweet Fan I cannot give so good an - account of. I have urged Mother to have further advice; and I - believe that there will be a little consultation on Friday; but - perhaps you had better not write about this, except to me.’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_Nov. 15, 1865._ - - ‘What a bright account you give of your dear busy young - party! Tell dear Otho that I shall be charmed if he makes the - discovery of a magenta-coloured caterpillar, or a mauve earwig; - and that as it will be ten times as curious as the Spongmenta - Padella, it ought to have a Latin name ten times as long. I - don’t despair of the great sea-serpent Did I tell you that - dear Mrs. Thornhill had, when a girl, conversed with a Mrs. - Hodgeson, wife of one of the Governors of our West Indian - possessions, who had watched the movements of _two_ that were - fighting in the waves for about _ten minutes_? - - “’Twere worth ten years of peaceful life, - One glance at such a fray!--” - - I took down the particulars, as I thought them very curious.... - - ‘This is my sweet Letitia’s birthday; she is just twenty.... My - Letitia is going to pay Louis a visit at Moultan.’ - -No foreboding whisper in her heart spoke of what that visit to Moultan, -so lightly mentioned, would mean to them all. When the two next letters -were penned, little as Charlotte dreamt of what was coming, the blow had -already fallen, and Letitia had passed away. - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Jan. 2, 1866._ - - ‘May the best blessings of the opening year rest upon my - beloved Laura, and her dear circle. - - ‘I hope that dear Leila received my _Rescued from Egypt_ in - the Christmas box. I put it up for her, and to the best of my - knowledge it went to Bournemouth; but as neither she nor you - have mentioned seeing it, I feel half afraid that in some way - I cannot imagine it has missed its destination, and the dear - girl has fancied that when sending little remembrances to her - brothers I had forgotten her. - - ‘Such a delightful budget of letters I had from Letitia by last - Southampton mail! She writes that she is “very very happy.”’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_Jan. 3, 1866._ - - ‘I feel that I have not said half enough to your dear husband - for his splendid book. I was in such a hurry to write and thank - him, that I only gave myself time for a cursory glance.... Dear - Fanny enjoyed looking at the pictures with me; and to-day I - carried up my book to dear Mother, that she might have the - pleasure also. She admires your dear husband’s gift greatly, - and we agree that it is just the book to take to the Cottage. - It seems to be quite a treasure of curious and interesting - knowledge; a volume to keep for reference as well as for - perusal. Do thank dear Mr. Hamilton again for me, and tell him - that I consider _Homes Without Hands_ as a family acquisition. - - ‘We are all much _in statu quo_. Our time is now passing - swiftly and pleasantly. Mother looks so bright and bonny and - young! We were talking together to-day of your and your dear - husband’s kindness to sweet Fanny. I am sure that it has not - been lost.’ - -Then came the mournful news; and a hasty short scrawl conveyed the first -intimation of it from Charlotte Tucker to her niece, ‘Leila’ Hamilton; a -note without any formal beginning:-- - - ‘Break to your sweet Mother and Aunt Mina that God has taken my - darling Letitia. His Will be done,--Your sorrowing Aunt, - - ‘C. M. T. - - ‘All was peace,--_smiling_!’ - -The illness had been short,--a severe attack of erysipelas, while Letitia -was in her brother’s house at Moultan. Somewhat early in the illness she -had said,--‘I am sure I shall die; but one ought not to mind, you know.’ -While delirious she was heard to say distinctly,--‘Ta,’--her pet name -in the past for her aunt Charlotte; but the message, if there were one, -could not be distinguished. - -After much wandering, she regained sufficient consciousness to assure -those around that she was suffering no pain; and five or six times -she repeated to her brother,--‘I am very fond of you!’ This was on a -Wednesday. The next day, Thursday, she was too weak for speech; though -in the morning, recognising her brother, she gave him a sweet smile. -Thenceforward the dying girl was entirely peaceful; as said by one of -those present,--‘constantly smiling. Her whole face was lighted up as -with extreme pleasure.’ All day this continued, as she slowly sank; the -face remaining perfectly calm and untroubled; till at length, when she -passed away, soon after eleven o’clock at night, ‘she ceased to breathe -so gently that she seemed to have fallen into a deep sleep.’ But the -placid smile was still there, unchanged, till the sweet young face was -hidden away. - -Charlotte Tucker, writing to her sister, Mrs. Hamilton, about these sad -particulars, which yet were not all sad, observed:-- - - ‘I am sure your heart has been aching, and your eyes have been - weeping. Such a sudden--such an unexpected stroke! But God is - Wisdom and Love.... - - ‘Darling--my own darling Letitia! Oh, when she looked so happy, - did she not see the angels--or her beloved Father--or the - Bedwells and old Rodman whom she had so tended,--perhaps all - coming to welcome her,--or the loving Saviour Himself? I do - not grudge her to Him; but oh, what a wealth of love I have - (apparently) lost in that one young heart! Her _last_ parcel of - letters to me contained sweet commissions for her poor.... I dare - say that I shall hear from you to-morrow; but it is a relief - to me to write now to you, who were so kind and dear to her. I - went out before breakfast this morning. A thrush was singing - so sweetly. I saw the first crocus of the year. My flower,--my - lovely one,--she may now be singing in joy, while we sit in - sorrow.’ - -This letter was dated January 21; and three days later another went to -Mrs. Hamilton, not from Charlotte, but from Fanny:-- - - ‘MY OWN DEAREST LAURA,--Your dear letters have been very - soothing to our Charlotte, and have helped to remind her of - the mercies mingled with the bereavement. The sure sweet hope - that her darling is safe, and for ever happy, has been her - strong consolation; and God is mercifully supporting her, I am - thankful to say. Last Sunday she went both to Church and to the - Workhouse. - - ‘I am thankful to be near her, to minister to her,--but wish I - were a better comforter, such as _you_ would have been, dear. - - ‘The sad tidings were most gently broken to our dear Mother by - Clara. She was therefore mercifully spared the shock of the - sudden intelligence. - - ‘With kindest remembrances to dear Mr. Hamilton, and love to - your dear self and your dear ones, believe me, dearest Laura, - your very affectionate - - ‘F. TUCKER.’ - -C. M. T. TO A COUSIN. - - ‘_Jan. 24, 1866._ - - ‘Many thanks for your kind sympathy. My sweet consolation - indeed is that my own darling girl sleeps in Jesus. When such a - bright look of “extreme pleasure” lighted up the dear face of - one called away in the bloom of her youth and beauty, was she - not realising her own sweet lines,-- - - “I heard a Voice, ‘a still small Voice,’ - Soft whisper, ‘It is well,’ - And knew the Saviour of my choice, - Jesus, Immanuel”?’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Feb. 6, 1866._ - - ‘Did I ever tell you that my darling wrote to me when she was - at the Hills, saying that she did not wish me to be altogether - disappointed in regard to her, and asking me whom I would wish - her to try to resemble. I mentioned you,--for I thought that as - her disposition was lively, it would be more easy for her to - try to be like you than dear Fanny; besides she had seen you - as a wife and mother, and I did not know whether the Almighty - might not destine her to be such. He had something “far better” - for my loved one. - - ‘It will interest you to know that G---- (P----‘s _protégée_), - after winning honours at Cambridge, wishes to be baptized as - a Christian. Amy H---- and her husband are to be two of his - witnesses, and he is anxious that dear Henry[11] should be the - third; for it was Henry’s consistent character which first - showed him what Christianity really is.’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_Feb. 13, 1866._ - - ‘I thank you lovingly, dearest Leila, for your letter. I prize - your affection,--you write to me almost as my own darling used - to write. If my health had broken down, so that I could not - have been a comfort to dear Grandmamma and Aunt Fanny here, - I should thankfully have accepted the invitation which you - so affectionately press; but as I keep pretty well, I do not - think that it would be well for me to leave my post at home. - Dear Grandmamma seems to cling to me so,--she is so loving! I - am thankful that she keeps so well. Dear Aunt Fanny was not so - well for two days, but is better again.... - - ‘My darling once wrote and asked me whose character I would - like her to try to copy as a pattern. I gave her your sweet - Mother’s. She replied that it would be difficult, but that it - was well to aim high. I think that _you_ will like to know - this. You have the same sweet model always before you; you, - dear one, have advantages that my darling had not. - - ‘Though I have cried over this note, it has soothed me to write - it; I have felt as if I were taking another dear young niece to - my heart,--a sad heart, but I trust not an ungrateful one for - the earthly affection which is God’s gift, and of which I have - been granted much.--Your affectionate Aunt and Godmother - - ‘C. M. T.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘1866. - - ‘I send you on the other page a few lines which came into my - mind yesterday in regard to my sweet Letitia:-- - - ‘A THOUGHT. - - ‘She travelled to the glorious East; she met the rising sun,-- - And even so her day of heavenly bliss was soon begun; - I knew ’twas sunrise with my child, while night was o’er me weeping, - E’er closed my weary day, my darling was serenely sleeping. - And so Thou didst ordain, O Lord, as Thou didst deem it best,-- - That hers should be the earlier dawn, and hers the earlier rest.’ - -TO MISS B. F. TUCKER. - - ‘_May 22, 1866._ - - ‘I have been learning a new art, and am thankful to find that - I have sufficient energy left in me to do so. I sent for some - reading in embossed letters for a blind man here, and amused - myself by puzzling it out myself. I have succeeded in reading - right through the fourteenth of St. John in two sittings of - about an hour and twenty minutes each. It was an effort of - memory as well as attention, as some of the letters are utterly - unlike those to which we have been accustomed. The poor blind - man promises well to acquire the art, I think.’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_July 16, 1866._ - - ‘Have you seen the mysterious sky-visitor? On Friday evening - our maids saw something like three stars, one red,--but they - disappeared. On the following night Cousins[12] called me to - look on what I would not have missed seeing for a good deal. - About thirty degrees above the horizon, I should think, shone - what was like a star, but more splendid than any that I had - ever beheld, of a brilliant magenta colour. It was no falling - star passing rapidly through the sky, but appeared quite fixed - in the heavens for--perhaps ten minutes. As I gazed with - something like awe on its wondrous beauty, suddenly its colour - utterly changed; the magenta became white, with a greenish - tinge; and then--as suddenly--the star disappeared; not as if - hidden by a cloud, but as if _put out_. - - ‘I watched for the mysterious light last night, but could not - see it; the evening had been so strangely dark that we had - lighted candles an hour before sunset, though our window looks - to the west. No star was visible to me; but our maids had a - short glimpse of a strange light. I am sitting by the window - now to watch for the visitor in the north-west.... I searched - _The Times_ to-day to see if there were any mention of it, but - could find none.’ - -Evidently Charlotte Tucker had been fortunate enough to see a very fine -meteor; though probably the supposed duration of ten minutes was in -reality a good deal shorter. The idea of watching for the same meteor -next night is somewhat amusing. The maids doubtless saw what they -expected to see; but Charlotte Tucker, though non-scientific, was far too -practical so to indulge her powers of imagination. - -In another letter written during this same July to Mrs. Hamilton occurs -one little sentence well worth quoting, for it is a sentence which might -serve as a motto for many a seemingly empty and even purposeless life-- - - ‘IT IS SWEET TO BE SOMEBODY’S SUNSHINE.’ - -In June Mrs. Tucker had written to a friend,--‘Charlotte walked twice to -church, and thinks she is stronger.’ And in a letter to Mrs. Hamilton, on -the 23rd of July, Charlotte said of herself,--‘I am quite well now, and -up to work’;--yet the following to a niece, on September 1st, does not -speak of fully restored energies:-- - - ‘I have so much to be grateful for, I wish that I were of a - more thankful spirit. It seems as if this year had aged me. - When I saw a bright creature like ----, I mentally contrasted - her with myself, and thought,--“She has not the gee out of her. - Cheerfully and hopefully she enters on her untried sphere of - work. In her place I should be taking cares!”--very wrong of - me. I often take myself to task. - - ‘I feel putting off my dark dress for _one day_ on Wednesday.... - My darling was to me what she was not to her other Aunts.’ - -To some people, or in certain states of body and mind, the afternoon is -apt to be a more tired time than the evening. At this stage in Charlotte -Tucker’s Afternoon of life she passed through a somewhat weary spell, -though never really ill; but her energies were to revive for the work of -her Eventide. - -On October 6th she could say,-- - - ‘I am not poorly, though I look thin; I think that I am - stronger in health and firmer in spirit now than I have been - almost all this trying year; and for this I am thankful.’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_Nov. 2, 1866._ - - ‘Your sweet Mother will wonder at not receiving the little book - which I promised to send her; but our bookseller, from whom I - ordered the copy, has been unable to get it yet. I will tell - you something that may cause delay. Of course I looked with - some interest at the illustrations which my Publisher sent me; - but I was not a little surprised in the last one to find one - whom I considered to be a man represented as a _bear_! He was - bearish in character certainly, but still--certainly not a bear - in shape. - - ‘Of course I wrote to Mr. Inglis about it; who replied that - he had been annoyed himself at the resemblance to a bear, and - had sent the picture more than once to be altered, and had - been at last so much provoked that he had paid off the artist - altogether. Now, though I may be a little sorry for the poor - man,--I never proposed his dismissal,--I confess I am rather - glad that he is not to illustrate my books any more. There is - no saying what creature he might turn my characters into next. - Mr. Inglis is going to have the picture altered; so this may - occasion delay.’ - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -A.D. 1867-1868 - -GIVING COMFORT TO OTHERS - - -Three more years only remained to Charlotte of life in the dear old home -of her infancy. Those three years passed quietly, marked by no stirring -events. On the 11th of December 1867, Otho St. George Hamilton, son of -her sister Laura, died at the age of thirteen, after a long illness; -and during these years Fanny continued steadily to fail. The delicacy -developed into a case of decided consumption, but of a slow and lingering -description. A few sentences are culled from the many letters which -remain, belonging to this period. - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_Feb. 1867._ - - ‘I wish my sweet Leila to receive a few lines on her birthday.... - _Tempus fugit_, indeed. When you open this you will be thirteen - years old. It seems to me as if each year now were growing - more and more important; the stream is widening; the mind is - opening; and ... may the heart be opening too to that Love which - is beyond all earthly love. - - ‘I had a pleasant childhood. My mind was very active, as well - as my bodily frame; and at your age I dare say that life lay - before me, a bright, hope-inspiring thing. It is well that it - should be so; it is a kind arrangement of Providence that the - young should be usually full of energy and hope. I like to - recall how I felt, that I may enter into the feelings of others. - - ‘Now of course I have not exactly the same kind of landscape - before me as I had at thirteen. I am in my forty-sixth year, - have known care and sorrow, and have at present but feeble - health. And yet, dear, I don’t want to exchange my landscape; - I have no wish to go back. I have found that middle age has - its deep joys, as well as early youth its sparkling ones. - Sometimes I ask myself,--“Now, in my present position, if I had - no pleasure in religion, if everything connected with that were - cut off, what would be left me?--what would life be to me?” O - Leila, what a tasteless, what a bitter thing! We want delights - that will not grow old, that will never pall, that will be just - as fresh and lovely at eighty as at eighteen. Religion is not - merely, as some seem to fancy, to prepare us for death, but to - be the happiness of life. It calls indeed for the sacrifice - of self-will in a hundred little ways; but it repays those - little sacrifices a hundred times over. Just think what it is - to realise such thoughts as these,--“The Lord Jesus loves me! I - am His own! I shall see Him one day, and be with Him!” How can - such thoughts ever lose their sweetness?’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_April 28, 1867._ - - ‘How different your still, noiseless dwelling must be to ours - at present! Not that we have much noise, but sometimes so - much seems going on. Yesterday M---- A---- D---- and a young - cousin came in the morning; then before they had left Cousin - M---- E---- and four fine children, then Uncle St. George and - his wife. All this before luncheon; others came after it; and - I went to the Poorhouse, and then lodging-hunting with Uncle - St. George. He _is_ so sweet and loving and good.... He delights - Grandmamma.’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_July 1, 1867._ - - ‘It is mournfully interesting to read my darling’s papers, of - which L---- has brought home many. Her prose is usually lively; - her poetry full of tenderness, often very sad.... The two latest - dated poems were, I think, written August 14. They were called - “An Early Grave” and “All is Vanity.” Every stanza of the - first expresses desire for an early departure. The second thus - beautifully closes-- - - “There’s rest beneath the yew; I know - There’s deeper Rest in realms above; - The Saviour’s Arm the valley through - Will me uphold with strengthening love; - My hope His Righteousness; my buckler, faith; - Why should I fear to tread the shades of death?” - - ‘If this really be the darling’s last written stanza, what a - touching interest it gives it!’ - -TO MISS B. F. TUCKER. - - ‘_Sept. 9, 1867._ - - ‘Poor little Otho has rallied again, though the doctor holds - out no hope of ultimate recovery. This is a sad time for - my poor Laura, though there are sorer trials than that of - bereavement.’ - -The Hamiltons were at this time in great trouble, as they watched the -long-drawn-out sufferings of their dying boy; and many letters were -written by Charlotte to her favourite sister, full of intense feeling. -Day by day she lived with them in their sorrow, anxiously looking out for -fresh tidings, and thinking what she could say to comfort or soothe. - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Oct. 30, 1867._ - - ‘PRECIOUS SISTER,--Your touching letter has quickened the - spirit of Prayer; but oh, I feel as if my prayers were often - so weak and worthless. I want more faith, more earnestness. I - have not time to write more, but could not let _that_ letter be - unanswered by your loving - - ‘C. M. T.’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_Nov. 9, 1867._ - - ‘Fanny and I have been conversing to-night on the subject - of your dear suffering boy. You long fervently to see him - rejoicing in the prospect of departing and being with Christ. - Perhaps the one obstacle to his being able to do so is the - thought of parting from you. If his Mother were going with him, - he may think, he would be happy to go. - - ‘Now to me, were I in your darling’s position, there would be - comfort and pleasure in the idea--“Perhaps, as regards me, - leaving the body will _not_ be real separation from dear ones. - Perhaps I may be allowed to come to them, and minister to them, - and cheer them; though they cannot see me I may see them!” This - idea does not appear opposed to Scripture. The rich man in the - parable believed that Lazarus _could_ go to Earth; and Abraham - never said that he could _not_. If dear Otho thought that he - might possibly be permitted to watch over his Mother, and help - to make her happy, and be one of the first to welcome her to - bliss,--perhaps the real bitterness of death would for him seem - taken away. It seems quite possible that dear Robin was by his - child’s sick-bed, and that she _saw_ him, when her face so - lighted up with joy. “I believe in the Communion of Saints.” - - ‘Your dear boy is very young. A child’s religion seems almost - to begin with the Fifth Commandment. We can hardly yet expect - dear Otho to love the Lord whom he has not seen _more_ than the - parents whom he has seen and fondly loved. Do you not think, - darling, that you are almost _too_ anxious on the subject of - Otho’s state of mind? He is only a lamb; and the Good Shepherd - knows that he needs to be carried. - - ‘I should like to know when your dear boy takes the Holy - Communion, that I may be with you in thought and in prayer. - Otho is an invited guest to the Great Feast above; his robe is - prepared by his Lord,--don’t fear, love, that it will not be - very white and very fair.... - - ‘_P.S._--_Nov. 10._--I have been thinking much of your dear one - in church; and I open my note to add another reason suggested - to my mind, as a cause why he may be unable ... to feel joy in - the thought of departure. You and I, my Laura, have known many - of God’s saints now in bliss; we have almost as many dear - friends in the world of spirits as in this. Perhaps we are - hardly aware of the influence which this has on our minds,--how - it helps to make Heaven a home. Your dear boy may feel that he - is going to enter amongst a great company of saints, almost - every one of whom is a stranger to him. To one so reserved as - Otho, this may be rather an awful thought. I wonder if it is - a comfort to him to think of sweet Letitia and Christian[13] - being there. Perhaps if you reminded him of that, it might - remove a feeling which--if he entertains it--he might not like - to mention even to you.’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_Nov. 13, 1867._ - - ‘I thank God that He has made your darling willing to depart, - even to leave you. Your note is deeply interesting; and I think - you may feel that your prayers have been answered.... You must - now only think of the “far more exceeding and eternal weight of - glory.” Probably every hour of suffering in some mysterious way - enhances and increases future rapture,--rapture more intense - than we can conceive. The longer I live, the more convinced I - feel that there _is_ this mysterious connection--in the case of - God’s children--between personal pain and future delight. So - that, if we could, as we fain would, shield our treasures from - suffering, we might be depriving them of some rich blessing. - - ‘_You_ are in the furnace, my precious sister,--a hotter - furnace, perhaps, than that which tries your child. I need not - repeat that whenever you want me, you have only to send for me. - You and I understand each other! How sweet is the tie between - us! Dear Mother is apt to indulge hopes of your boy’s recovery. - I think that she hardly realises his state, and probably she - scarcely knows how to write under the circumstances. She has - had a cold these last few days, but is, I hope, throwing it - off.... - - ‘I send you a little book,[14] which I am sure will interest - you. It has been a mournful pleasure to me to prepare it. Your - lamb as well as mine will probably soon “be folded above.”’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Nov. 14, 1867._ - - ‘My heart feels more with you, my Laura, in that still - sick-room than here. Perhaps many angels are about you and your - boy, though you see them not. - - ‘Like your dear invalid, I am especially fond of St. Luke’s - account of the dying thief. There is something so touching - in his looking at such a moment to the Saviour, whose Blood, - shed for his salvation, was at that moment trickling down in - his view; and there is something so sublime in our Lord’s - conferring Eternal Life,--such a gift,--at the time when He was - Himself undergoing the terrible sentence of death! We may envy - your dear suffering child, my Laura, when we think how soon, in - human expectation, his eyes will behold the King in His beauty. - - ‘O darling, you could hardly wish to keep him back, when the - Master calls him,--calls him to His Home--His Arms! - - ‘I feel for your dear husband; this is a time of sore trial - for him; but you suffer together. May God give you both “songs - in the night.” Those songs are perhaps sweeter to Him than the - Hallelujahs of the Angels.’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_Nov. 21, 1867._ - - ‘How well I know that feeling which you describe,--the feeling - of being unable to pray fervently,--of being scarcely able to - pray at all! This is probably caused ... by fatigue of body, and - overstraining of mind and nerves. Perhaps God permits it, that - we should just sink in complete helplessness at our Saviour’s - Feet, and ask Him to pray for us, since we cannot pray for - ourselves.... You may be like a very little child, that can’t - even _ask_ for what it needs, but yet trusts and fears not.’ - -TO MISS LEILA HAMILTON. - - ‘_Dec. 11, 1867._ - - ‘Your very very sad account of dear Otho received this morning - makes one think that, even before this reaches you, the - sufferer may have been called _home_! Oh what a blessing it - is that it is indeed Home.... Dear Otho has had a sorely trying - journey, wintry and wearisome indeed; but there is no shadow, - never can be a shadow, on the Home to which he is bound. He - will never have to leave it again, to learn the lesson of - patience in pain. He will, through his Lord’s merits, be - ready there to welcome the dear ones whom he is now leaving - behind,--when they too may quit their school, and go to their - Father in Heaven.... - - ‘This is a solemn time for you, my Leila. I had reached the - age of thirty before I ever looked upon that which is called - death, in my own home. These events make the invisible world - seem nearer. They should draw us upwards; they should bring us - closer to our God.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Dec. 12, 1867._ - - ‘MOST PRECIOUS LAURA,--When Lady Catherine L----‘s only son was - called, she sank on her knees, and said,--“My child, I wish you - joy!” so wonderfully was she enabled to realise the happiness, - the ecstasy, of the freed spirit, rising up to the presence of - her Saviour and God. Happy, happy Otho! No more to be pitied, - but to be envied! - - ‘“O change, O wondrous change! - Burst are the prison bars,-- - One moment past--how low - In mortal pangs,--and now - Beyond the stars!” - - ‘I will not write much to you now, darling. I am going to see - your Freddie, but intend to tell him nothing. - - ‘Express my tender sympathy to your dear husband. God support - you all.--Your loving - - ‘C. M. T.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Jan. 14, 1868._ - - ‘It was not with dry eyes, my beloved Laura, that I could - read what was written in those volumes, to which a tenfold - value is given by their being last Remembrances from your - lately suffering, now blessed boy. Oh, with what a heavy heavy - heart must you have put up those parcels, and written those - inscriptions! It will perhaps be a long time before you can - realise with calm thankfulness that it is indeed so “well with - the child” that you can rejoice in his safety, his happiness.... - I am now much more disposed to praise for my angel-girl than to - weep for her.... I can see so clearly the Love and Wisdom that - took her Home. Presently, my precious sorrowing sister, you may - feel the same about your boy. Your intense love will remain, - for love is immortal; your sorrow will die, for sorrow with - Christ’s people is _not_ immortal, thank God.--Your tenderly - loving - - ‘C. M. TUCKER.’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘I have enjoyed your dear letter, and it makes me feel - thankful. I have often thought that freed spirits probably lead - a life of delightful activity; none of the “burdens of the - flesh” to fetter them down. The idea of spirits preaching to - spirits is, however, rather new to me. But there seems nothing - against it, and probability rather in its favour. That verse in - St. Peter, to which you refer, certainly strengthens the idea; - for the disciples are permitted in so many ways to follow their - Master. - - ‘It is thus possible that, while you are weeping for your - darling, if your eyes were opened, you might see him the - bright, joyful centre of a little group of spirits of Indian - children,[15] repeating to them the lessons which he first - learned from you, but which he would now know better--oh, how - much better!--than you could ever teach him. I am sure that you - would not wish to take him back again to pain and weakness from - such an occupation.’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_April 14, 1868._ - - ‘MY OWN SWEET LAURA,--I feel that this month must be full of - heavy recollections to you; and oh, it is hard to have a bright - face to hide a bleeding heart. I hope that you will not put - any restraint upon yourself with me.... Easter has its peculiar - message of hope and joy to the mourner. Nature, bursting into - new life and beauty, repeats the message, gives it to us as it - were in an illumination of green leaves and bright blossoms. - The Church says, “Christ is risen indeed!”--and all around - us joyfully adds, “And _we_ shall rise again!” Your parting - with your boy is over; now only the meeting is before you. The - shadows fall behind; the glowing sunshine is in front.’ - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -A.D. 1868-1872 - -THE OLD HOME BROKEN UP - - -One letter at about this time gives particulars of how Charlotte tried -to influence, not without results, a poor Roman Catholic woman, whom -she came across in the Infirmary. Another makes allusion to the Ragged -Schools and their work, in which she was always greatly interested. Yet -another contains the answer to an inquiry from a niece about a book -which should be bought, probably for a gift. The suggested choice ranges -between Sir Walter Scott, Felicia Hemans, Jean Ingelow, the Author of -_The Schonberg-Cotta Family_, and Miss Sewell,--a rather curious mixture. - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_July 7, 1868._ - - ‘I met a mole the other day in a field. It did not attempt to - get away, but let me stroke it; and had I chosen I could easily - have taken it up in my hand. This seems quite a country for - moles. I have seen them repeatedly. I take a greater interest - in them, from that book, _Homes Without Hands_, which your - father kindly gave me.’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_Aug. 11, 1868._ - - ‘We have strange pets here. There are numbers of wasps; I never - saw so many at any one time, I think. They sting our poor maids - in the kitchen, but behave in such a gentlemanly way in the - drawing-room, that, instead of a plague, they seem a pleasure - to dear Grandmamma. She watches them, feeds them, admires - their beauty, and calls them her babies. One got within Aunt - C----‘s jacket, which naturally rather alarmed her. She drew - the jacket off, and I found the wasp in the sleeve. It had been - between it and C----‘s bare skin, and yet had never stung her. - - ‘I dare say that you are rather impatient to be settled in - Firlands.’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_Sept. 21, 1868._ - - ‘On Saturday ---- and I read my _Castle of Carlsmont_ aloud - to dear Grandmamma. I have been amused at ----‘s little - criticisms, and shall like to know how far yours agree with - hers, if you read my Tragedy. ---- says that “Clara is rather - stupid”; that she likes Agnes best. “I have rather a sneaking - likeness for Agnes,” says she. She says that the ending - disappoints her; she would cut off the last page and the four - preceding lines, which would completely alter the whole ending. - The ending stood originally just as she would have it; but - years afterwards I added the page and four lines, which _I_ - think an improvement. - - ‘Tell me frankly what you think, and whether you approve of - the style of binding. You remember when I talked to you about - the Tragedy, as we sat together in the garden. The two things - that occurred to you were,--how could I get the work, when - printed, _sold_; and that people would not like it in pamphlet - shape. Messrs. Nelson have obviated the first difficulty; and - by having covers put on by the Jewish Society, I have obviated - the second. I am sure my wee book will have your good wishes, - dear, that it may bring in a little sum to dear Auntie Fanny’s - Mission purse. - - ‘You will wonder what has become of that work of mine, of which - I read part to you last year. I can only warn you, my dear - Leila, when you write a story, don’t call it _On the Way_,--for - it seems to be always on the way, and never to arrive. - - ‘What a long note I have written! Pay me back by a review of my - Tragedy, and be as blunt as ever you like; for if you tell me - that my poor lady is “very stupid,” instead of “rather stupid,” - you will only make me smile.’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_Feb. 4, 1869._ - - ‘It is only fair that I should send you a long account of the - wedding.[16] I thought that I should be the first of the party - in church, for I went early; but I was mistaken. Gradually - a large family party gathered.... There was a good deal of - how-d’ye-doing and kissing and that kind of thing, before the - word was heard, “The bride is coming.” - - ‘Dear Bella looked nice and sweet, leaning on the arm of her - father. A large Honiton lace veil fell over her pure white silk - dress; her lovely hair plaited, instead of made into an ugly - chignon, appeared graceful under the white wreath, from which - a spray drooped down her neck. I did not think the bridesmaids - looking picturesque; there was too square a look about the - purple trimming of their white alpacas. The bridegroom - and bride stood side by side. I could see Bella’s profile - distinctly, and could hear every sentence, both when James and - when she repeated their vows.... There was no crying that I could - see.... You know that there were eight little children present, - four little boys and four little girls. Some of them were given - flowers from an ornamental basket, to strew in the path of the - bride, as her husband led her down the aisle.’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_June 12, 1869._ - - ‘Sweet Grandmamma continues much the same,--serene,--without - pain, not exactly ill, but so delicate that she is still - carried up and down stairs, and sees none of the family - but Aunt Clara and myself, and only a little of me.... Dear - Grandmamma sent for me while I was writing the above; and to my - surprise I found her, pen in hand, busy with a note to welcome - Uncle Willy. I am much pleased that she should send him one, - though I should not have thought of asking her to make so great - an effort. Of course the note is very short.’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_July 10, 1869._ - - ‘My heart should be full of thankfulness, for to-day dear Aunt - Fanny was able to pay her first visit here to see Grandmamma. - Uncle and Aunt St. George[17] drove her here in their - pony-chaise; and she had quite enjoyed the drive. I thought - Aunt Fanny decidedly better; but dear Grandmamma--who has - scarcely realised the severity of her late illness,--said to - me, with evident disappointment, “I was surprised to see my - own Fanny look so pallid. I think she looks worse than I do.” - This is true; but then the fact is that Grandmamma’s lovely - pink and white complexion often makes her look stronger than - she is.... - - ‘Uncle St. George has given me such a lovely piano-piece. - Grandmamma likes me to play it through every day, or I should - be inclined to lend it to your dearest Mother. It would remind - her so of the dear Ancient Concerts, the delight of our youth, - and of good old Mrs. Burrough. It is Glück’s music, arranged by - Calcott, from _Half-Hours with the Best Composers_, published - by Lonsdale. The piece commences with the delightful chorus - of Furies, Cerberus barking, etc., which your dear Mother may - remember. - - ‘I am ashamed of such an untidy scrawl as this. I do not know - how that blot on the first page made its appearance. Of course - the _writer_ was not to blame!... I could chat much longer with - you, dear one, but I have other notes to write; and my pen, or - ink, or paper, or something or other, will go wrong to-night, - so as to make the act of writing irksome, as well as the note - untidy.’ - -Another heavy blow, not less heavy because sooner or later inevitable, -was now drawing very near. Mrs. Tucker, who had reached the age of -eighty, had of late failed steadily; and Charlotte must have seen that -this dear Mother was soon to pass away from their midst. Before the -close of July the call came; and already every word that she spoke was -treasured up by her daughter, as may be seen in the following letter:-- - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_July 12, 1869._ - - ‘So many thanks to my beloved Laura for her valuable and - gratifying gift, which reaches me to-day. Dear Mother has heard - your sweet music twice over already, and both she and Clara - admire it. So do I. I wish that your song were published, - that more might benefit from it. I am pleased that you occupy - yourself in composing, love. I dare say Mother will often ask - for her Laura’s song. “Is not she a darling?” exclaimed Mother - to-day. - - ‘I not unfrequently sing, “Hark, my soul,” to sweet Mamma. - It is better to go over and over the same than to give much - variety, though I sometimes sing “Rock of Ages” also. I heard - Mother saying to herself one day, “Jesus speaks, and speaks - to me”; and she once observed of that hymn, “That takes one to - heaven.” - - ‘Dear Mother is much the same; not ill; with no fever, no pain; - just very delicate and weak. She was so particularly sweet - yesterday, Sunday. She looked lovely sitting by the large open - window, with a light gauze veil to keep off the flies. Mother - said that it had been “a holy day”--“a solemn day,”--and twice - asked me to read the Bible to her.... Once after waking she - observed that she felt “between Heaven and earth.” Mother has - repeatedly alluded to her dream of being in Heaven with Mrs. - Thornhill; and often talks of her father,--“such a holy man!” - - ‘She said yesterday, “I have been dreaming.” I observed, “I - hope they were pleasant dreams.” “Mostly prayerful,” was her - reply.... She is very serene and peaceful, which is such a mercy.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_July 24, 1869._ - - ‘BELOVED LAURA,--So tenderly and so gently the Lord has dealt - with our sweetest Mother! She woke this morning, and told - Cousins that she herself had slept too long. There was a slight - feeling of sickness about eight, which made Cousins call poor - Clara. In about an hour she gently fell asleep.... No pain - nor even consciousness at the last. I had gone to London on - business, as you know. I was telegraphed to; but ere I arrived - she--the sweet, the beloved--was where she had wished to be. O - Laura, Laura, she has long been drinking the _dregs_ of life, - however sweetened by affection. I felt for her. But I seem - as if I could hardly write connectedly. All the three dear - brothers have been here. St. George still is here. Poor dear - Fanny also,--she is to have my room, for she is so thankful to - be here. We have, however, only been allowed one very brief - glimpse and kiss of the revered remains. _Only_ remains, my - Laura. Think of her bliss! _She_ is not here.... Your fond - - ‘C. M. T.’ - -In Charlotte’s desk, kept as one of her greatest treasures, and found -there, years later, after her own death, was the last note ever written -to her by Mrs. Tucker. It contained these words--‘_My precious Charlotte, -you have been such a comfort to me!_’ No wonder the loving utterance was -treasured up by the daughter through the rest of her life. - -During forty-eight years Charlotte Tucker had known but one home--No. -3 Upper Portland Place. Now at length in her forty-ninth year the -inevitable family break-up had come; and the dear home of her infancy, -of her girlhood, of her middle age, could be hers no longer. No. 3 had -to be given up; and the sisters had to go forth into fresh scenes. The -trial must to all of them have been great; perhaps least so to the gentle -Fanny, already on the border-land of the Life beyond. - -As a first move, Charlotte and Fanny went together for about two months -to Sutton. An idea had, however, arisen of a home, at least for a time, -with their brother, Mr. St. George Tucker, and his wife; and the next -step was to join them at Wickhill, Bracknell, in the month of September -1869. This was Fanny’s last move. She was taken thither, from Sutton, -most carefully by Charlotte, in a post-chaise; and the long drive does -not appear to have materially affected her. Although by this time wasted -to skin and bone, Fanny still kept about in the house; spending much time -in her own sitting-room, yet often coming down among the rest for a short -time; and during this autumn Charlotte seems to have chiefly devoted -herself to Fanny. Before the close of November, however, the end of the -long illness was reached. - -One day, when speaking to her brother, in allusion to her earlier good -health and plumpness, Fanny observed: ‘My dear St. George, I have been -imprudent.’ She did not specify what manner of imprudence hers had been. -Probably, like many another in a thoroughly healthy family, she had not -soon enough read the true meaning of suspicious symptoms. During some -four years past she had been steadily failing; and the end could but have -been a joyous release to one so ready to go. - -Thus blow upon blow had fallen between the years of thirty and fifty upon -the golden staff of Charlotte Tucker’s Will. Her Father’s death; the -death of Robert; the death of Letitia; the death of her Mother; the death -of Fanny; all these one after another make a list of sorrows. Doubtless, -_the_ most keen and bitter losses which she had to endure were, above -all, the death of her almost idolised Father, and the death of Letitia. -No other pain would equal these, dearly as she loved her brother Robert, -her Mother, and Fanny, until her own peculiar sister-friend, Laura -Hamilton, should be summoned away. Mercifully, that blow was not allowed -to fall until a very short time before her own call Home. - -Charlotte was not crushed by these sorrows. This is plainly to be seen. -Although the wild spirits and abounding glee of her childhood were toned -down, she was still active, still buoyant, still able to enjoy life. -She sorrowed, but by no means as one without hope; and if her life was -shadowed, it had not lost its spring. As time went by, the spirit of fun -and mirthfulness revived; and the little ones in her new home could not -fail to be a fresh delight to one who so greatly loved children. Even the -earlier letters after her Mother’s death are not only calm but cheerful. - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_Aug. 23, 1869._ - - ‘I cannot help hoping very sincerely that Uncle St. G. may find - a house near Bracknell, large enough to hold Aunt Fanny and - myself, as well as his own party. Would it not be nice? But I - am rather guarded about setting my heart on anything of the - sort. Aunt Fanny would like it very much.... It would be like a - haven to me. I think I know one young maiden who would not be - sorry to have her old godmother within reach of a walk. But I - am quietly waiting to see how things are arranged for me.... I - have to manage things for Aunt Fanny, as well as for myself, - just as if I were her husband. It is very new work to me. I am - not, like your dear Mother, accustomed to think and arrange - about a mass of property.’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_Dec. 2, 1869._ - - ‘I hope that my sweet Leila has not thought me unmindful of - her loving sympathy because I have not thanked her before - for her note. I am sure that you have heard of us from your - beloved Mother, who so tenderly shared my watch by the bedside - of my heart’s sister. O Leila dear, does not such a peaceful, - holy departure show us that our Lord has indeed taken the - sting from death? Without Him, how terrible would be the dark - Unknown!--with Him, how bright is the valley! - - ‘Sweet Aunt Fanny quoted to me not long ago, I suppose in - reference to departure,--“When Thou wilt; where Thou wilt; how - Thou wilt!” I think that the last chapter which I read to her - was Romans viii. It is such a long chapter, that I stopped at - about the 25th verse, fearing to tire the dear invalid; but she - made me finish the chapter. - - ‘I went out of the drawing-room window before sunrise to-day, - to gather flowers to make into wreaths. The gardener had not - opened the greenhouse; but I found much more than I should - have expected in the beginning of December,--even rosebuds. - The ferns look lovely still. A few days ago I made a wreath of - myrtle. I thought it like an emblem of my own sweet sister; - sweetest when bruised; with an unfading leaf; and a white, - simple-looking, yet lovely blossom. - - ‘Good-night, my Leila. May the Almighty make you, my dear - Godchild, as unselfish, conscientious, and lowly as was the - loved one by whose grave I am to stand to-morrow.’ - -Although the plan of living with Mr. and Mrs. St. George Tucker was at no -time regarded as a permanent arrangement for the remainder of Charlotte -Tucker’s life, yet it actually lasted six years. For about eight months -from September 1869 they all remained at Wickhill. In 1870 they removed -to Windlesham, in Surrey; and in the following year, 1871, they again -moved to ‘Woodlands,’ at Binfield in Berkshire, nine miles or so from -Reading, and only about two and a half miles from Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton’s -home, Firlands, near Bracknell. Charlotte had, therefore, from that time -not only the interest of her little nephew and two little nieces in the -house, but also of her sister Laura’s children within three miles. The -companionship of a very favourite brother and of his affectionate wife, -together with these little ones, work among the poor, writing, and many -other occupations, made her life still a busy and a bright one. - -In one letter written to a niece from Firlands, in 1870, she describes -‘the rural seclusion of this lovely place. I am charmed with Firlands, -and the groves of fragrant pine in which I wander every morning.’ In -another letter, dated February 1871, she says: ‘I hasten to give you the -good news that Uncle St. George has taken “Woodlands” for seven years. -I am so glad, and I am sure that you will be so also.’ This was to her -Godchild. Thus she entered upon the final stage of her English life. -Before the close of those seven years Charlotte Tucker was in India. - -The following extracts from letters belong all to the two or three years -after her Mother’s death:-- - -TO MISS LAURA V. TUCKER.[18] - - ‘_Feb. 10, 1870._ - - ‘I took Sir Frederick and Lady Abbott[19] to-day to the Infant - School at Bracknell. They seemed to be much pleased, and so I - am sure were the Infants, as their visitors treated them with - sugar-plums and lemon-cakes, in return for a number of songs.... - A translation of my _War and Peace_ has been made by Madame de - Lambert, and is coming out in the _Musée des Enfants_,--under - the name, I believe, of _Le Soldat Aveugle_.’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_Dec. 12, 1870._ - - ‘A lady was here the other day, who has a curious taste for - different creatures. She has had a slow-worm round her arm as - a bracelet--has kept an oyster which seemed to know her--and - taught frogs to come out of the water at the sound of their - names. One day, when she was quite young, she showed an old - gentleman one of her dear snakes, coiled up. He thought it an - imitation-one, and said something about good imitations,--when - the reptile began to hiss at him. - - ‘“O you horrid girl, it’s alive!” exclaimed the poor old - gentleman, forgetting his politeness in his sudden alarm and - disgust. - - ‘Baby is now thriving nicely, and getting quite fat. It is - funny to see her looking at the picture of the white kittens - and cherries. She gets quite excited, trying to clutch hold of - the cherries with her tiny hands.’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_May 12, 1871._ - - ‘Many thanks, my sweet Leila, for your affectionate letter, and - also for your kindness in going to see Sarah Jones. - - ‘My darling Letitia! Notwithstanding all that has passed since - she was last pressed to my heart, the sudden blow of her loss - has left, I think, a deeper scar than any trial before or after - it. I seldom mention her name; and now my heart seems rising - into my throat as I write of her.... - - ‘I feel tired, dear one, so will not write a long letter. I had - a long business walk before luncheon, and then the overland - letter to Uncle Willy to write, and a great deal of proof-sheet - of the _Lady of Provence_ to correct.’ - -TO MRS. J. BOSWELL. - - ‘_Nov. 13, 1872._ - - ‘I am very busy, for there seems an almost endless field for - work in making foreign wall-texts; quite a new occupation - for me. In Italy and Spain they will now be warmly - welcomed,--India, Syria, China, Labrador, all offer openings. - I feel it so gracious in my dear Master to give me this little - work for Him, now that the power of composing seems to be taken - away. I find delight in going over and over the precious texts, - which I have to copy in various tongues. I do not think that I - ever before so realised their sweetness. I tried to gild my own - little works with Scripture truths; but now I have pure gold - to give to others,--without admixing with it any alloy of my - own.’ - -For awhile at about this time she seems to have lost almost entirely her -power of writing; the failure being no doubt due to the state of her -health, or to re-action from the strain of all that she had gone through -in past years. She therefore spent many an hour in painting texts in -different foreign languages, on a large scale, to be sent abroad. - -The sacred poem which closes this chapter was written in the summer of -1871. It appeared in a little volume, called ‘_Hymns and Poems_‘, by A. -L. O. E. - -A DREAM OF THE SECOND ADVENT. - - ‘I dreamed that in the stilly hush of night-- - Deep midnight--I was startled from my sleep - By a clear sound as of a trumpet! Loud - It swelled, and louder, thrilling every nerve, - Making the heart beat wildly, strangely, till - All other senses seemed in hearing lost. - Up from my couch I sprang in trembling haste, - Cast on my garments, wondering to behold - Through half-closed shutters sudden radiance gleam, - More clear, more vivid than the glare of day. - What marvel, then, that with a breathless hope - That gave me wings, forth from my home I rushed, - Though heaved the earth as if instinct with life, - Its very dust awakening. Can it be-- - Is this the call, “Behold the Bridegroom comes!” - Comes He, the long-expected, long-desired? - Crowds thronged the street, with every face upturned, - Gazing into the sky,--the flaming sky-- - Where every cloud was like a throne of light. - None could look back, not even to behold - If those beloved were nigh; one thrilling thought - Rapt all the multitude,--“Can HE be near?” - Then cries of terror rose--I scarcely heard; - And buildings shook and rocked, and crashing fell,-- - I scarcely marked their fall; the trembling ground - Rose like the billowy sea,--I scarcely felt - The motion; such intensity of hope-- - Joy--expectation--flooded all my soul; - A tide of living light, o’erwhelming all - The hopes and fears, the cares and woes of earth. - Could any doubt remain? Lo! from afar - A sound of “Hallelujah!” Ne’er before - Had mortal ear drunk in such heavenly strain, - Save when on Bethlehem’s plain the shepherds heard - The music of the skies. - Behold! Behold! - Like white-winged angels rise the radiant throng - That from yon cemetery’s gloomy verge - Have burst, immortal--glorious--undefiled! - Bright as the sun their crowns celestial shine, - Yet I behold them with undazzled eye. - Oh that yon glittering canopy of light - Would burst asunder, that I might behold - Him, whom so long, not seeing, I have loved! - It parted--lo! it opened--as I stood - With clasped hands stretched towards Heaven; my eager gaze - Fixed on the widening glory! - Suddenly, - As if the burden of the flesh no more - Could fetter down the aspiring soul to earth, - As if the fleshly nature were consumed-- - Lost in the glowing ecstasy of love-- - I soared aloft, I mounted through the air, - Free as a spirit, rose to meet my Lord, - With such a cry of rapture--that I woke! - - ‘O misery! to wake in darkness, wake - From vision of unutterable joy; - Instead of trumpet-sound and song of Heaven, - To hear the dull clock measuring out time, - When I had seemed to touch Eternity! - In the first pang of disappointed hope, - I wept that I could wake from such a dream; - Until Faith gently whispered, “Wherefore weep - To lose the faint dim shadow of a joy - Of which the substance shall one day be thine? - Live in the hope,--that hope shall brighten life, - And sanctify it to its highest end.” - - ‘Fast roll the chariot wheels of Time. HE comes! - The Spirit and the Bride expectant wait,-- - Even so come, Lord Jesus! Saviour--come!’ - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -VARIOUS CHARACTERISTICS - - -In the last few chapters we have had glimpses of Charlotte Tucker’s -life rather from within than from without; chiefly in reference to her -successive losses, and her own feelings connected with those losses or -with passing events. Now we will try to obtain a few glimpses of her, -rather from without than from within; to see her as others saw her, not -so much as she saw herself. I do not for a moment mean to imply that the -two views must be antagonistic. The view of a castle from within and the -view of that same castle from without are totally different; yet they are -not in the least antagonistic. The one is as true as the other. - -In doing this it has to be remembered that A. L. O. E. was a many-sided -and to some extent a complex nature. Hers was not a character to be -lightly sketched in a dozen lines. Probably no character of any human -being can be satisfactorily so disposed of; and there are complexities -in the very simplest nature. But the main outlines of some people are -more easily perceived, more ‘consistent’ according to popular notions -of character-consistency, than the main outlines of some other people; -merely because they happen to embrace fewer opposites. There were a good -many opposites in the character of Charlotte Tucker. - -All people did not see her exactly alike,--partly because of necessity -they looked upon her with different eyes, and partly because of necessity -she was not the same in her manifestations to all of them. Being a -many-sided individual, one side of her became prominent to one person, -another side became prominent to another person. While one friend -remembers vividly her spirit of ardent devotion, and another recalls -especially her work among the poor, a third pictures her sparkling -conversation, a fourth her spirited games of play with children. While -one has the strongest impression of her resolute sternness, her horror -of evil and self-indulgence, another cannot speak warmly enough of her -intense unselfishness and her unlimited kindness, and yet another smiles -over the remembrance of her irrepressible fun. All these things were -included in her; but naturally not all these things were equally apparent -at all times, or to everybody who knew her. - -Nor need it be supposed that Charlotte Tucker was a being all light, with -no shadows. She was thoroughly human. There were shadows of course,--what -else could one expect?--and she had many and many a hard fight, not in -girlhood only, but all through life, to overcome her faults. - -Again, it is not claimed for Charlotte that everybody who crossed her -path loved her. We do read in certain little books, of a particular -calibre, about angelic heroines who were invariably worshipped by -everybody in their small world, without a single exception. This, -however, is, to say the least, uncommon; and with one of Charlotte -Tucker’s strong personality it would be all but impossible. A very wide -circle did most heartily esteem and admire her, did most dearly love -her. But of course there were exceptions. In the course of her life some -few with whom she was thrown failed ever to come within the grasp of her -affectionate influence. But this was only natural. Everybody is not made -to exactly suit everybody else. - -Among some of her most marked features were an intense vigour and energy, -an extraordinary force and vitality, together with great eagerness in -whatever she undertook, and a burning desire to be useful in her age and -generation. She was very resolute; very persevering; very affectionate; -reserved, yet demonstrative; untidy, yet methodical; exceedingly anxious -for the happiness of all around; apt often to think people better than -they really were; generous to a fault; unselfishly ready at all times to -put her own wishes aside; vehement and impulsive, yet never in a hurry or -flurry; unyielding, yet tender; severe, yet frisky. - -Of course there were other natural characteristics of a different kind; -weaknesses not wholly mastered; faults not entirely conquered. She was -not perfect,--who is? The strength of determination would occasionally -run into obstinacy; the resolute manner could be a trifle dictatorial; -the very wish to help and please others might be carried out in a way -which did not gratify. With all her exceeding kindness, hers could -hardly be described as the true sympathetic temperament. Opinions here -vary a good deal among the friends that knew her best; but those who at -different periods of her life lived for any length of time under the same -roof, will be able to recall certain instances of an absence of tact, a -lack of quick understanding of the feelings of others, which certainly -never arose from want of a desire to understand. She had any amount of -heart, of pity, of thought, to bestow; but while feeling fully _for_ -others, she could not readily so place herself in the position of others -as to feel entirely _with_ them, to see matters from their standpoint and -not from her own. The highest form of sympathy is a rare and subtle gift; -and it can scarcely be said that Charlotte possessed this gift. Still, if -any one did bring a burden or a trouble to her, she would spare no pains -to help and to comfort to the utmost of her power. - -One direction in which she showed through life a marked deficiency was -in the housekeeping line. Both early and late she had always an intense -dislike and dread of housekeeping. Whatever else she undertook, that -was if possible a thing to be avoided; and it seems to have been an -understood matter between her friends and herself that anybody rather -than Charlotte Tucker might be housekeeper. Probably she had an innate -sense of want of power, an innate consciousness that she could not do the -task efficiently. If compelled to attempt it as a duty, she would not -refuse; but she never took to the occupation, or overcame her dislike. - -Moreover, the gift of nursing was not hers. Although in a threatening -case of scarlet fever she could be the first to offer herself as nurse, -with entire unconcern about the infection; although she shared with -others the watch beside Fanny’s dying bed, and later on the watch beside -Mr. Hamilton’s; yet she repeatedly speaks of herself as no nurse, and -alludes to her own want of experience. Experience no doubt she might -have had, before the age of fifty, had her natural bent lain at all in -the direction of nursing; but the necessary gifts were not hers. She had -not the reposeful air, the placid voice and manner, above all, the ready -tact, which for good nursing are essential. Self-indulgence, laziness, -cowardliness were unknown factors in her existence, and could never have -held her back; but here too there was probably an innate sense of lack -of power; and here too she never through life took to the occupation, -‘as to the manner born.’ It is noticeable also that, frequently as she -would offer her services in times of illness, these offers were seldom -accepted. Others doubtless knew as well as she knew it herself that -nursing was not in her line. - -Somewhat late in life, when a friend, after hours of hard study, was -endeavouring to rest, with a severe headache, Charlotte would bring -her guitar, sit near, and sing and play to the sufferer. A gentle -protestation was of no avail; for so sure was she of her remedy, that -she only supposed her friend to shrink from giving her trouble, and the -music went on unchecked. This--which happened repeatedly--was done with -the kindest and most loving intentions. Charlotte was devotedly fond -of music, and she did not herself suffer from headaches. But it is an -instance of the want of tact occasionally shown in small matters. The -_will_ to do good and to help others was abundantly present; only she did -not always find the right mode. - -It must not be forgotten, however, that, whatever her natural -disqualifications for the part of a nurse might have been, she did in -her old age so far overcome them as often to take a share in tending the -‘brown boys’ of the Batala High School when ill, in a manner which won -their loving gratitude, although she did not prove successful as a nurse -to English invalids. - -One who knew her intimately has written the following short sketch, which -is well worth quoting _verbatim_:-- - - ‘I think one marked point, physical and mental, in her, was - her tireless energy. Her very walk was indicative of this; the - elastic springiness of every step. Also of another point in her - character, stern determination,--the resolute folding in of - her arms and hands, as she paced along a road or up and down - a garden,--drawing herself up to her full height the while, - with sparkling eye and compressed lips. She was teeming with - life and energy;--whether it were over her favourite chess, - when she would wait patiently but eagerly, thinking out each - move; or enjoying the small-talk of society, watching faces and - reading characters, to treasure them up for painting in one of - her forthcoming volumes; or teaching a niece the beauties of - sound and thought in the Italian of Dante; or playing at some - game of thought with young people; or reading aloud one of her - two favourite dearly-loved and untiringly-studied authors, - Shakespeare and Boswell’s _Life of Johnson_. She was very - sociable, lively, and threw her whole heart into the kindly - entertaining of guests of all ages. Her eldest brother used to - be very much struck with the unselfish way in which she bore - any interruptions and calls upon her time. Even in the midst of - her literary work, she would at once rise, leave it, and give - her whole attention to any subject an incomer might wish to - speak to her about. - - ‘Clever and stern, she was not one to be trifled with. Purpose - seemed woven into all her liveliness; and she tried to keep - others up to her level.’ - -Another writes, in reference to the time when A. L. O. E. was living at -Birch Hall, Windlesham, with her brother and his family, in 1870:-- - - ‘I had just arrived on a visit, and she came into the - drawing-room, kissed me, and said, “I am Aunt Charlotte.” She - was not good-looking, but was always full of life. Her ready - wit and charming conversational powers made her a welcome guest - everywhere, and made many a dinner-party at her brother’s house - go off well.... She was always thinking of others, and seemed to - count time spent on herself wasted. - - ‘I well remember a time when I longed to see Windsor and the - Queen; and Aunt Charlotte immediately said she was longing for - the same thing, and gladly undertook to pioneer an expedition. - I was far from strong, but could not wait for lunch in my - anxiety to have a good place at the railway station, to see - Her Majesty arrive. Having seen me and my young cousin safely - placed, Aunt C. disappeared, and after a while made her way - through the crowd, laden with cakes for us all, finally - producing a glass of claret for me from under her cloak, which - I was obliged to take then and there. Her enthusiastic loyalty - made her enjoy the sight, no novel one to her, of our dear - Queen, as much as any of us. - - ‘Our evenings owed much of their brightness to her presence. - She could sing,--sometimes lively little songs, accompanying - herself with the guitar. Her ear for music was so correct, that - on one occasion she came downstairs from her room, to tell me I - had played a wrong note in a chord of Beethoven, and the exact - note I should have played. - - ‘Sometimes she thought of games for us. One was called - “Statues.” We each had to pose as a statue, suggestive of - some subject, such as Melancholy, Joy, Fear, etc. Whilst she, - personating a visitor to the sculpture studio, would try to - upset our gravity by her amusing remarks on the statues.... - She also invented a geography game for us, providing us - with skeleton maps, and small round counters, on which the - names of towns were printed. As these were drawn and the name - called out, we had to claim them and give them their places on - the map. Whoever had a map filled in first was the winner.... - Sometimes we read Shakespeare together, each of us taking a - part.... - - ‘I think things were only a trouble to her when she had to do - them for herself. Nothing was a trouble if it helped another.... - Work for the Master whom she loved was her animating motive.... - She was, I think, the most unselfish character I ever knew. She - lived for others; whether in the great work of her life, the - use of her pen, the proceeds of which went to fill her charity - purse, or in the simple act of leaving her quiet room, on a - dull, rainy afternoon, to play a bright country dance or Scotch - reel, and set the little ones dancing to vent their superfluous - spirits.’ - -These slight recollections are from the pen of one among her numerous -adopted nieces. - -Another niece, not adopted but real, says:-- - - ‘I think the first thought that would have occurred to any - stranger, as regards her appearance, was the peculiar fashion - of her dress. I remember her in the days of crinolines, - standing straight and dignified in her plain dress, without the - least attempt at fulness in the skirt. I should think it must - have been always so; her individuality and disregard of the - world’s opinion were so strongly marked.’ - -This question of dress does not appear to have become a matter of -principle with her. She was simply independent, and utterly careless of -what might be said. She had not by nature the art of dressing well, and -she ‘thought it a bother.’ As observed by one of her brothers, ‘Charlotte -never cared what she put on. She never had the art of amalgamating the -different parts of her dress!’ In plain terms, her taste in dress was not -good, and she did not take trouble to improve it. Nor had she the knack -of putting on to advantage what she wore. Things that would have looked -well upon another did not look well upon her. - -Caps were a trouble, and she was most grateful to any one who made her -a present of a cap. She could not make nice ones for herself, and she -disliked the style of bought caps. - -One little story of middle life days at No. 3 illustrates her -indifference to what she wore. A friend was staying in the house, to go -to a wedding; and when the time came her bonnet had not arrived. Old -Mrs. Tucker, knowing that Charlotte possessed a new bonnet, and knowing -also that there was no fear of vexing Charlotte by the act, lent this -new bonnet to the friend, to be worn at the wedding. Charlotte was then -absent. But meeting the friend, either at the wedding or afterwards, -she noticed the bonnet, failed to recognise her own property, and most -innocently begged to apologise for remarking what a particularly pretty -bonnet it was! - -She had unconsciously a good deal of manner, and used certain gestures, -which either were natural, or through long habit had become a part of -herself. One trick of manner was that of clasping her hands, as an -expression of certain feelings; also her head was apt very often to be -slightly on one side. Seeing a young girl, upon Sunday, busily engaged in -copying music, Charlotte Tucker sat down and looked earnestly, with her -head a little on one side. ‘People have different ideas about occupations -for Sunday,’ she remarked at length. ‘I, for instance, would _not_ copy -music on a Sunday.’ The hint, pleasantly given, was at once gracefully -taken, and the music was put aside. - -Another time this same young girl had been confessing herself very much -of a coward, and regretting the fact. ‘Oh, never mind,’ was Charlotte -Tucker’s consoling reply. ‘Some day, when there is real danger, you’ll -flash out!’ Perhaps she was thinking of the scene in one of her own -little books, when a timid young governess confronts an escaped panther. - -Once a young girl, at table, being vexed by words said in depreciation -of a near relative, showed her feelings very decisively. A. L. O. E. -afterwards put her arms round the girl, and said, ‘_Quite_ right, my -dear!’ - -Again, she had a mode of crossing her hands upon her chest, with a -meditative air. Many recall this attitude as peculiarly characteristic of -her. If she were thinking deeply, her hands would instinctively take that -position. - -She was very warm-hearted, and, as one has said, liked ‘to make you happy -and pleased with yourself.’ Ever eager to see the best in everybody, she -wore rose-coloured spectacles which now and then would lead her into -thinking of people much better than they deserved, and ‘disillusionment’ -had to be gone through. Always endeavouring to see the best, she often -saw more than the best; and small harm if she did. At least she ensured -thus the making of mistakes on the right side, instead of on the wrong. -The common tendency is so very much the other way. The romantic side of -Charlotte’s nature would interfere with her judgment, and the impulsive -first view would be erroneous. When she had had time for calm thought -she generally worked her way to a sensible view of a question. But the -tendency to over-estimation of others continued through life, and was -perhaps especially to be marked in her Indian Missionary work. - -In her religious opinions she was a warm Churchwoman, belonging to the -‘Evangelical’ school of thought. As she grew older, however, she became -more and more large-hearted towards those from whom she differed on minor -points, more and more ready to hold out a kind hand of friendship on all -sides. This side of her appeared more distinctly, and developed more -markedly, in India, than in her secluded English home. - -Both at No. 3, and in her brother’s house, she was wont to read aloud -her own stories to her young nephews and nieces, for the sake of their -‘criticisms,’ and perhaps quite as much for the sake of amusing them. -Some of the then children, now grown up, recall those readings with -pleasure. - -Life at Binfield was quiet and regular. Charlotte kept up her habit of -early rising; and from eight o’clock till half-past eight each morning -she would take her ‘devotional’ walk in the garden,--hands folded on -chest, head up, step firm and dignified. The impression left by her -‘dignity’ is strong, singularly so, when considered side by side with a -step so springy that some describe it as even ‘jerky.’ - -Mornings were mainly given up to writing in her own room; and little was -seen of her, as a general rule, between breakfast and luncheon. In the -afternoon she was always ready for callers; and if not needed for them or -aught else, she would go and visit the poor. On these rounds she commonly -carried with her the conventional ‘bag,’ full of painted texts and tracts. - -Evenings were devoted to sociable enjoyments; frequently to music and -dancing. Charlotte was an adept at playing dance-music for her nephews -and nieces; and at Binfield she also danced a great deal with her brother -and the children. It does not seem that she had lost any of her old -light-footedness, whether or not she had had practice during some years -past. Sir Roger de Coverley, the Lancers, and the Minuet were great -favourites. When the Gavotte began, the children stopped, for they could -not spring high enough; but Charlotte was able to make the most wonderful -springs. This does not look as though her spirit were yet broken by all -that she had gone through. - -Besides playing for the children, she would plan games for them, and -would superintend charades; and when they grew older she would read -Shakespeare with them, often knitting busily all the while as she read. -Singing too had a share in these sociable evenings. She still steadily -refrained from going out to parties at other people’s houses; but she -never failed to be present at any party in their own house, not only -making her appearance, but contributing her utmost to the entertainment -of guests. - -Her village work included visiting of the poor, and also, for a while, -a class of big boys in the night-school. With the boys she was not -successful. They were very troublesome and naughty, and she could not -get hold of them at all. This failure is curious, in contrast with her -after-success among the Native boys in India, those ‘dear brown boys,’ -as she often called them. Western and Eastern boys differ considerably, -however; and no doubt the explanation resides in this fact. Also, an -English ploughboy requires different treatment from a high-caste Indian; -but she was ‘friends’ with boys of all castes there. - -In a letter to Mrs. Hamilton, written from Binfield, she says: ‘The -Curate is already a comfort to me personally, for he has taken my -night-class off my hands. I have no scruple in letting him do so, for -I believe it is far better for the boys. They were too much for poor -old Char. I had seventeen last night, and felt my inefficiency.’ And in -another letter, soon after: ‘We had a talk about the proposed Sunday -School. I asked not to have boys. My feeling is that I am too old for -them.’ - -She was not too old, many years later, for Batala boys; but plainly she -had not the requisite gifts for managing or winning rough English village -lads. - -A few recollections, jotted down by three of her nieces, may close this -chapter:-- - - -I. - -‘In 1869 she came to her house near Sutton; but that sorrowful -year to her did not leave much impression upon me, probably -because she was so little with us, and so much with her sister -who died in our house. I remember her next in the summer of -1870, when my sister was born, coming into the nursery to -announce the fact, and afterwards showing us the baby, assuring -us that she was “as fragile as egg-shells.” She played the organ -in our little country church, and visited the poor,--on one -occasion going out at night to administer a mustard plaster to -one poor woman, who thought herself dying, and sent for Miss -Tucker.... - -‘As we grew older she would help us with our charades and games, -planning wonderful card games herself, and ornamenting them with -brush and stencil. It was she who introduced us to Shakespeare, -making me love him as no one else ever could, and making us read -him in parts.... On Sunday afternoons she would take us up to -her room, in order that my Mother might rest in peace from the -children; and there we always spent a delightful time, looking -over her dressing-case with its treasures, and listening to -the histories of each trinket and curiosity, or messing with -her paints. I do not remember that we ever felt ourselves to -be in the way in that happy room. It was during this time that -she wrote _The Haunted House_, which thrilled me with so much -horror, that it was not until years after that I learnt there -was a spiritual meaning underlying the tale. - -‘She was never ill, but always felt the cold extremely in -winter, though she did not complain much. One day I came down -to breakfast, exclaiming, “How beautiful the snow is!”--when -she told me how pleased she was that I could say so, instead of -saying, “How _cold_ it is!” When I was ill in the year 1872, she -often came to see me, quite disregarding the infection of my -throat; she would play her guitar to me, or, as I grew better, -would patiently guide my little fingers to the right places on -the strings. She made up a pretty letter in rhyme, and sent it -in a stamped envelope to amuse me. I do not remember her ever -talking to me on religious subjects; but her untiring energy and -gentle patience made much impression on me.... - -‘My aunt would never give way to us little ones when she was -convinced that we were wrong; and I well remember a prolonged -struggle between her and my baby-sister, who was left in her -charge one day.... My aunt regarded the sin of drunkenness with -the greatest horror; she rarely mentions it in her books, and -generally, where it is touched upon, she writes with the deepest -pathos, as in _The Great Impostor_. She would only talk of -brandy by its French name, and considered it dangerous to take -Tincture of Rhubarb, on account of the spirit it contains.... - -‘My aunt would never have expressed disapproval of others, as -many of the younger generation do, who are of her own way of -thinking. Where she did not approve, she was usually silent.... - -‘But stern as she was by nature, her intense love--the love of a -strong nature--made her gentle to the weaknesses of others. She -could not sympathise often with the weak, but she could pity and -love. Long years of home-discipline gave humility, self-control, -and gentleness.’ - - -II. - -‘There are some lives that carry about with them an atmosphere, -as it were, of influence and example.... It was thus with “Auntie -Char.” We used to think and say, “How she would have admired -such a deed!”--“How she would have grieved at such a want of -courage!” if anything mean or underhand were done. One knew -beforehand what her opinion of the transaction would be; at the -same time her marvellous sympathy, so readily given, was the -first sought in cases of bravery or of moral courage.... - -‘She rarely “preached” to one. I should say she rather suggested -little things that somehow were never forgotten. The letter I, -for example--when written with a capital letter--called for -playful comment. Up to the last I would often count in a fearful -manner the all too plentiful I’s in my letters to her.... - -‘My father remembers “Sister Char” as the life and soul of their -nursery circle in Portland Place,--how in the gardens close by -she used to lead their glees and songs.... _We_ knew what a great -hand Auntie Char was at games of all kinds. No one could play -like her. She seemed far younger than any child present, and was -quite an enthusiast in them, as in everything she undertook. No -one could play half-heartedly with her.... - -‘Auntie Char had a wonderful way of strengthening and -encouraging one to open out one’s heart to her, and a great -and rare capacity for putting herself in “her neighbour’s -shoes.”[20] It was during a visit to us, in the May of 1875, -that she acquired the pet name of “Fairy Frisket,”--the name of -one of her own works,--owing to her marvellous activity. She -would come home after a long day’s walking, and run lightly -upstairs, faster than we young ones cared to do. In many of -her letters to me from India she playfully alludes to this pet -name.’ - - -III. - -‘She never seemed to care a bit to receive any praise for her -books, and she never let writing interfere with any family -duties. She was wonderfully sweet-tempered, but there was no -weakness in her sweetness. If others were inconsiderate to her, -I never saw her resent it.... Her unconscious influence was, I -believe, much larger than she has ever dreamed. She was more -utterly regardless of personal ease and comfort than any one I -ever knew, but was ever ready to praise others.... - -‘My aunt had a guitar on which she enjoyed playing as far back -as I can remember, and on which she used to play to us with much -animation and impressiveness, singing to her own accompaniment; -but I never remember her playing to herself for her own personal -amusement. One of her songs I do not remember hearing from any -one else. The refrain in each verse was--“Till green leaves come -again.” ... Another song that she sang took my fancy,--I believe -it was an old-fashioned one in MS.,--and she at once copied it -for me, making time to do so amid the many things occupying her -at the time. Most people would have let me copy it for myself, -as I was quite a girl and had plenty of leisure; but she never -seemed to do things like other people.... - -‘Nothing that I can say would explain how beautifully unselfish -she was, how utterly regardless of herself, and thoughtful for -others. She was one of the few whom one could most truly call -_noble_, and yet so sweetly humble. I mourn her irreparable loss -all the more for the long parting since she left us for the -Mission-field abroad.’ - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -1875 - -AN UNEXPECTED RESOLVE - - -It is not quite easy to say at what precise date the idea first seriously -presented itself to the mind of Charlotte Tucker, that she might go out -to India as a Missionary. Some years earlier, after the death of her -sister Fanny, she had evidently regretted that she could not do so, -looking upon herself as too old. But the question again arose--Was she -really too old? That question Charlotte now faced steadily. - -The plan of living in her brother’s house, never looked upon as entirely -permanent, had lasted several years; but various causes pointed to a -change before long as probably necessary. In January 1875, Mr. Hamilton, -who had long been in failing health, passed away; and Charlotte seems, -either in anticipation of the event, or directly after, to have had some -floating ideas of making a home with her widowed favourite sister. Here -also, however, there were certain difficulties in the way of an entirely -permanent arrangement; and meanwhile the thought of India was becoming -prominent. - -Charlotte was now close upon fifty-four years old,--an age at which -few women dream of making an absolutely fresh start in life. Some -are and some are not elderly at that age; but as a general rule no -doubt a woman’s best and most vigorous days are then over, and she is -more or less disposed for an easy existence. Many at that period can -thoroughly enjoy travelling for pleasure. But to make a new home amid -new surroundings, to learn a new language, to enter upon a new line of -work,--these things after the fiftieth birthday have a somewhat alarming -sound. - -Not so with A.L.O.E.! For her these fifty years and more of quiet English -existence had been years of preparation, of training, of patience. For -her parents’ sake she had dutifully held back, during the noontide and -early afternoon of her history, from much that she would fain have done; -and though the latter part of her ‘afternoon’ had been full and busy, -with freedom to do what she willed, yet even this was not enough. At -fifty-four she stood practically alone, with no near relative entirely -dependent on her kind offices. She was absolutely necessary to none. Had -she been, she would not have gone to India. But finding herself thus -unfettered, the thought came up,--Why not devote the Evening of her life -to Missionary work? Why not set an example to others who, like herself, -might with advancing years be left free of ties? Or at least, why not -put the matter to the test of actual trial, and prove whether or not -elderly women, and not younger ones only, might go forth to work among -the Heathen? - -There was the question of health. Could she stand the trying climate of -India? Would she not be a mere burden on others?--an additional care -instead of a help? - -Well, at least she could try. If her health failed to stand the climate, -she could but return home. If she succeeded, she might be the Pioneer of -many more, who would perhaps venture to tread in her footsteps. - -Had it been a question of going out at the expense of the Society’s -funds, the Society might rightly have hesitated; but Charlotte Tucker -had enough of her own. While placing herself under the authority of the -Zenana Society, and obeying orders, she would pay her own way; therefore, -no risking of Missionary funds was involved. - -No doubt she was peculiarly well adapted for the attempt. Although thin -and delicate-looking, she was distinctly wiry, with much underlying -strength, and an immense amount of vigour and vitality. A woman of fifty, -who can lightly dance the gavotte, with springs which a child cannot -emulate, is not quite an ordinary specimen of advancing years. The -failure of power which had followed upon the death of Letitia, lasting -more or less during some years, had now pretty well passed off; and there -seemed to be good promise of a healthy old age. - -She was generally sound, with no especial delicacy; she did not suffer -from any tendency to headache; she was not fussy, or self-indulgent, -or dainty as to her eating, or particular as to personal comforts, or -squeamish as to her surroundings, or shy in making new friends, or -afraid of toil and trouble. All these things were in her favour. She -was in fact no timid shrinking Miss Toosey,--dear little old lady that -Miss Toosey was!--but a fine spirited specimen of A middle-aged Lady of -England,--well fitted, it might be, to become even then A Lady of India. -Those who think of following the example of A. L. O. E. ought to possess -at least some of her qualifications. Had a Miss Toosey, instead of a Miss -Tucker, been the Pioneer of elderly ladies in the Mission-field, the -attempt would have been a disastrous failure. - -Although the matter was not definitely settled until the spring of 1875, -it had plainly been for some time in Charlotte’s mind as something more -than a bare possibility; for during many weeks she had been studying -Hindustani. She had, however, said not a word about it to any of her -relatives, beyond privately consulting her elder brother, Mr. Henry Carre -Tucker. She thought much, prayed much, and waited to be shown her right -path: meanwhile beginning to prepare for what might be her duty. - -When at length she gave out her intention, as a matter already decided, -the announcement fell among friends and relatives like the bursting of a -bomb. Nobody had dreamt of such a career for ‘Auntie Char.’ - -[Illustration: LAURA - -About the Year 1871] - -The following letter contains her first intimation of what was coming to -her sister, Mrs. Hamilton:-- - - ‘_March 24, 1875._ - - ‘MY BELOVED LAURA,--I do not know when I shall send this, for - I hardly hope that when you know my plans for the future you - will say, as Henry did, a month ago, “Selfishly I should be - delighted,”--but I hope that when you have quietly thought and - prayed over the subject, you will not let your tender affection - make you wish to keep me back from the work for our dear Lord - for which I have for some time been preparing myself by hard - study. - - ‘Years ago I said that if I were not too old to learn a - new language I should probably--after sweet Fanny had - departed--have gone out as a Missionary. This year the - question came to my mind, _Am_ I really unable to learn a new - language? I find that I can learn, and the only real objection - to my going is taken away. Yes, sweet Laura, the _only real_ - objection; for I can leave you rich in the devoted love of your - children. Thank God, _you_ are not lonely; and circumstances - might easily arise to make it undesirable that I should make a - third or fourth lady in--perhaps--a Curate’s dear little home. - - ‘I have not come to my present decision in a hurried moment. - In the second week of February I made my Missionary project - a subject of special prayer; on the 24th I had an important - interview with Henry, with whom I had corresponded on the - subject. He had no fears as to my health standing the climate, - or as to my being able to learn the language. I began to learn - it on the 14th February, and by many hours of diligent study - have nearly gone through St. Matthew in Hindustani, besides - making a vocabulary of more than three hundred words, learning - by heart, etc. I have thrown my soul into the work, thankful - and happy in the hope that the Lord would open my lips, that - my mouth should show forth His praise to the poor Zenana - prisoners in India. The enclosed, being the two last letters - which I have received from the Secretary of the Zenana Mission, - will show you how graciously God has smoothed the way for me, - providing an escort all the way to the place which I now think - of as my home--Amritsar. - - ‘But you will say--“Why choose India? Why at your age be not - content to work in England?” - - ‘I will give you a few reasons for my thinking it desirable for - me to go to the East:-- - - ‘1. In that corner of the Vineyard the labourers are indeed - fearfully few; scarcely _one_ to many, many thousands of - perishing heathen. - - ‘2. Not one Englishwoman in ten is so well suited to bear heat - as myself. - - ‘3. Not one woman in a hundred at least is so free from - home-ties as myself. - - ‘4. There is a terrible want of suitable literature for - Indian women. If God enabled me still to use my pen, intimate - knowledge of even _one_ Zenana might be an immense help to me - in writing for my Indian sisters. - - ‘Do not grudge me, dear one, to the work for which my soul - yearns. You see by the enclosed that my arrangements are made, - and that expostulation would but pain me. I would have told you - of my plan some time ago, only I feared to distress you when - you have had so much of trial. But why should you expostulate, - or why should you be distressed? Is not Missionary work of all - work the highest? I only fear that I am presumptuous in coming - forward; but it seems as if my dear Lord were calling me to it; - and my heart says,--“Here am I; send me.” I own with shame that - much that is unworthy mingles with my desire to serve the Lord - in India; but the desire itself has, I trust, been put into my - mind by Him. - - ‘Cheer and encourage and pray for me, my Laura, that my Autumn - may be better than my Spring and Summer--that the richest - harvest come in the latter days. Ask the Lord to give me Indian - gems in the crown which He has bought for His servants. - - ‘On the 28th February, at Holy Communion, I devoted myself to - the Zenana Mission. But I am bound by no vows. I go out _free_, - an honorary Agent of the Society.--Your loving - - ‘C. M. TUCKER.’ - -Writing again on the 7th of May, she said: ‘I have been formally -presented to the Committee of my own Society, who were very courteous.’ -The Society was then known under the cumbrous name of ‘The Indian Female -Normal School and Instruction Society.’ A few years later it separated -into two distinct Societies; one of which, ‘The Church of England Zenana -Society,’ Charlotte Tucker joined. - -As was to be expected, her new plan met with some opposition. Many who -dearly loved her were most sincerely grieved at the thought of such a -parting; and others were disposed to look upon the scheme at her age as -somewhat crazy. Small marvel if they did. Such an attempt had not been -made before; and the untried always contains unmeasured elements of -danger and difficulty. Probably her unusual fitness for the undertaking -was hardly realised as yet even by many of those who knew her best. She -had not, however, the pain of opposition from her best-loved sister, Mrs. -Hamilton. ‘It will be a sore pang to her to part with me,’ she wrote to -her niece, Mrs. Boswell; ‘but her feeling will be that she gives me to -God. And to my great comfort she does not attempt to stay me.’ - -Before going to India, she resolved to take another voyage--a trip to -Canada, for a farewell sight of her nephew, ‘Charley’; the youngest of -‘The Robins.’ She would have his brother, her other nephew, Louis Tucker, -for a companion on this preliminary journey. Of its perils and pleasures -Charlotte Tucker’s own pen can best tell the tale. - -TO MRS. J. BOSWELL. - - ‘_May 24._ - - ‘I had more than an hour to wait at Paddington, but ----, who - was with me, gave me a little lesson in Hindustani. P. E. - did the same yesterday; he let me repeat and read from the - Testament to him, and then he read a little to me. I generally - understood what he was reading when he went slowly. I am so - thankful to snatch lessons in pronunciation.... Louis and I are, - if all be well, to start in the _Nova Scotia_ on Thursday, at - one o’clock.... What a beautiful hymn there is in _Hymns Ancient - and Modern_, “for those at sea”! Not that I consider drowning - a worse way of going Home than any other. As a lady said, “We - cannot sink lower than into our Father’s Hand”; for it is - written, “He holdeth the deep in the hollow of His Hand.”’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘GRESFORD, _May 26, 1875_. - - ‘I am almost packed, ready for my start to-morrow morning; but - I have a nice quiet time for a little chat with precious Laura. - Loving thanks for your sweet letter.... - - ‘You wished me to see Dr. Griffith. I have seen him to-day, - though not in the character of a patient, I am thankful to - say.... The dear old man appeared to feel real gratification at - hearing of my going to India as a Zenana visitor, inquired - with interest about the language,--health did not appear to - enter his medical mind,--and really affectionately gave me - his blessing. I am glad to have it. I told him that I am - fifty-four, and Dr. Griffith made nothing of it. Dear Aunt is - so loving and motherlike; but she sympathises in the cause, - which is a comfort to me. It would have been very painful had - she disapproved,--almost as painful as if my favourite sister - had disapproved. Dr. G.’s visit really refreshed me.’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘ON BOARD THE NOVA SCOTIA, - _May 27, 1875_. - - ‘I did not think that I should have had an opportunity of - having a letter posted from Derry, but it appears that I shall. - I am now quietly scudding over the Atlantic. There is not much - motion in the vessel, which seems to me to be a very large one. - There are a great many emigrants, but I doubt whether it will - be easy for me to communicate with them. - - ‘You who are so kindly anxious about my comfort will be pleased - to know that I have a very fair amount of wraps, and am more - likely to suffer from heat than cold, seeing that my cabin - port-hole is never opened, and that the only way of ventilating - it is by leaving the door open,--a thing not to be thought of - at night, as ladies’ and gentlemen’s cabins are not at all in - separate parts of the vessel. By-the-by, the latter part of - that long sentence will not please you. I should have broken - the paragraph into two. I have at present the luxury of having - the cabin all to myself, and only hope that when we touch at - the Irish port, we will take in no fair passenger to share it. - - ‘Now I think I will go on deck.... I am perfectly well at - present. The only thing I fear is using up my oxygen at night. - I have had such a nice letter of welcome from Mrs. Elmslie.’[21] - - CIRCULAR LETTER TO SEVERAL OF THE FAMILY. - - ‘_June 5, 1875._ - - ‘“Yes, you will see icebergs, plenty, more than enough,” said - the Captain to me on the 3rd. “This is an exceptional year for - ice.” He spoke so quietly that I did not at the time give full - significance to his words. - - ‘But on the next day, the 4th, we beheld icebergs indeed,--I - believe more than a hundred, and some, O how glorious! Our eyes - were satiated with beauty. Now a bold iceberg rose before us, - reminding me of pictures of Gibraltar; but this berg was all - of snow,[22] and, as well as we could guess, about 150 feet - high. Then another, most graceful in shape, appeared, like a - sculptured piece of alabaster, wearing a huge jewel of pale - greenish blue; this, from its pure beauty, Louis called “The - Maiden.” We turned from its softer loveliness, to gaze on that - which I thought the finest iceberg of all, the ruins of some - huge amphitheatre. - - ‘As we gazed, some of the bergs changed greatly in shape. The - “Maiden” split quite in two. Fancy these glorious wanderers - from Greenland or Labrador, with the sea-spray dashing against - their sides, showing that they were aground; for, as you are - aware, the mass of ice below water is far greater than that - which is visible above it. One could not but think, “What a - mercy it is that we did not pass those large icebergs in the - night!” Had our great emigrant-ship, freighted with 2000 tons - of iron, dashed up against one of them, we should have gone to - the bottom like lead. Nothing more would have been heard of the - _Nova Scotia_, and the more than 600 mortals on board. - - ‘But the day was clear, and it was easy to give the bergs a - wide berth. Every one’s spirits rose. There was nothing but - enjoyment of the beautiful scene, admiration at the strange - sights before us. The sun at length sank; but a few icebergs - loomed in the distance, and I had an idea that we had almost - come to the end of the ice-tract. We had delightful music in - the saloon, and all appeared cheerfulness and peace. Even when - my attention was directed to strange dark objects on the ocean, - which I could see through the round saloon window, no thought - of danger came into my mind. - - ‘At the invitation of another lady I went on deck, where I - was able better to watch the strange scene before me. Out - of the ice-tract, indeed! Why, we were in the very midst of - _thousands_ upon _thousands_ of masses of floating ice, through - which the vessel very, very cautiously as it were felt her way, - sometimes stopping altogether. Strange to say, even when I - heard the keel _grate_ over ice, it was very, very slowly that - I received the impression of danger. The night was exquisitely - lovely, the stars shining gloriously. I could hardly have - supposed that any star would have cast such a reflection on the - smoothest water as Mars threw on the still ocean. - - ‘The brightness of the starlight, the quietness of the water, - greatly added to our chance of safety. One felt that a watchful - and skilful captain was cautiously piloting us, avoiding the - larger masses of ice, though our vessel passed right over some - of the little ones. I watched the tiny globes of phosphoric - light which sometimes gleamed on the water, and the dark - objects which I knew to be pieces of floating ice. There was - pleasure in watching them; for though reason at last convinced - one that danger there must be under the circumstances, a touch - of fear, or rather sense of danger, rather enhances enjoyment. - - ‘I was tired, but lingered on deck, till a lady came up to me, - and suggested that we had better go below, as she believed that - lights were put out at eleven, and if we did not go we might - have to retire to bed in the dark. Down I descended to my cabin - in the lower part of the vessel. Some of the passengers on - deck had been considering the possibility, on so fair a night, - and with Newfoundland near,--for we had sighted the light - on shore,--of our being saved by the boats, even should the - vessel be lost. But we remembered that there were more than 600 - persons on board. The Captain would do well, if he could manage - to place half the number in the boats. It was clear that all - could not expect to be saved. - - ‘When I went to my cabin, I was not disposed at once to go to - rest. I knelt on my sofa, so as to be able to look out from my - port-hole on the ocean and its numerous floating fragments of - ice, seen in the starlight. Not only was the sense of sight - exercised, but that of hearing. Nine times I thought that - I heard the keel grate against the ice. I may possibly be - mistaken in the number of times; but the noise was distinct, - and its nature not to be mistaken. At a short distance--it did - not look a hundred yards--the clear, smooth sea appeared to be - skirted by a tall hedge. It was not _land_, for occasionally I - saw a light gleam through it. I asked a seaman afterwards what - it was,--it was, as I suspected, a bank of fog between us and - the coast of Newfoundland. - - ‘I watched till my cabin-light went out, and I was left in - darkness, save that my port-hole looked like a pale moon in the - dark cabin. I turned into my berth, but not at once to sleep. - I lay thinking, reflecting on the possibility of feeling the - vessel going down, down,--and reflecting on what an easy death - drowning would be. Still, I did _not_ really expect to be - drowned. - - ‘The vessel stopped dead still,--I listened for the sound of - pumping, or of preparing boats. I heard one--to me--strange - noise, I can hardly describe it, between a blast and a bellow. - I thought that it must be a signal, and I was not wrong; for I - hear this morning that it was the fog-whistle from the shore. - It seemed to me that it was useless for me to rise; if there - were any use in my returning to the deck, dear Louis would call - me. He would be sure to think of my life before his own. - - ‘After a while I went fast asleep, and did not awake till - the bright, clear morning, when there could no longer be the - shadow of danger. I rose, dressed, and went on deck. The sea - was beautifully smooth, blue, and clear from ice, except a few - bergs in the distance. I had a happy, thankful heart. - - ‘One lady had remained on deck till past three. She told me of - a field of ice, and great masses of ice, through and beside - which we had passed; and she had seen the Northern Lights, - which I am sorry to have missed. The Captain never slept till - the drift-ice was passed. He was at breakfast, however, this - morning, and I doubt not felt very thankful. I believe that he - has had three anxious, wakeful nights; but the change in the - weather must have been a very great help to him. We had had - such miserable dull weather, and such heavy rolling seas. Last - night all was so clear; and I saw the stars, I think, for the - first time since our starting. Please pass this letter on; for - I cannot write over the same thing to all dear ones.’ - -TO MRS. J. BOSWELL. - - ‘ON BOARD A HUGE RIVER STEAMER, - _June 9, 1875_. - - ‘Here we are steaming up the St. Lawrence to Montreal.... Quebec - is a wondrously fair city.... We went this morning to see the - Montmorency Fall, a cascade where a great volume of water - churned into foam dashes down a precipice 300 feet high.... - - ‘_June 10._ - - ‘I finish this off in Montreal, a very handsome, - thriving-looking city, with far grander buildings than Quebec: - but it wants the dreamlike, exquisite beauty of its sister. - More kindness meets us here.... Have you seen the account of the - loss of the _Vicksburg_ in the ice, just three days before - we encountered the ice off the same coast? Only five sailors - saved; not one passenger! We should have gone down faster than - the poor _Vicksburg_, because of our heavier cargo. I should - not have had a chance; and my gallant Louis would probably have - lost his (life), because he would never have deserted me.’ - -Although Charlotte Tucker’s Indian life lay still in the future, this -seems to be the right place for quoting a few words from her pen, written -after years of toil in the East. Her mind was plainly reverting to the -voyage above described:-- - - ‘It seems strange that the idea of an ice-bound vessel should - suggest itself to a Missionary, working in the “glowing East”; - yet it is so. We, in Batala, seem for years to have been - labouring to cut a passage through hard, cold ice, with the - chilly bergs of Muhammadanism and Hinduism towering on either - hand. But though channels which had been laboriously opened may - be closed, _the crew are by no means disheartened_. The worst - of the winter is now, we hope, over. We see on various sides - cracks in the ice. A Brahmin convert, brave and true, has been - like a bright fragment broken from the berg, helping somewhat - to throw it off its balance. The way is becoming more open, and - there are tokens of melting below the surface of the ice. We - know that one day of God’s bright sunshine can do more to make - a clear way than our little picks can accomplish.’ - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -1875 - -BESIDE NIAGARA - - -There can be no mistake about Charlotte Tucker’s enjoyment of fresh -sights and scenes across the Atlantic, or about the fact that increasing -years had at least not dimmed her appreciation of beauty. Most kind -and warm hospitality was shown to her at Quebec, at Montreal, and at -Toronto. She was met at Oakville Station by her younger nephew, Charles -Tucker,--the latter in ‘a state of joyous expectation’ which had kept him -awake through three previous nights. Then followed a welcome from his -wife, in their ‘pretty little home,’ elsewhere described by her as ‘a -Canadian settler’s little farmhouse.’ - -While there, finding the life quiet, and plenty of time on her hands, she -‘took to Persian characters,’ as ‘an interesting riddle to solve,’ and -also worked hard at her Hindustani, spending many hours over both. - -Also she insisted on doing in Canada as Canadians do,--making her own -bed, and even essaying to accomplish some ironing. Perhaps the last -attempt did not meet with brilliant success. She wrote home about it:-- - - ‘“‘Though seldom sure if e’er before - That hand had ironed linen o’er ...” - -the great matter is that the things are _clean_; but I own I am glad that -I shall have a _dhobi_ in India.’ - -Another day she wrote to Mrs. Hamilton: ‘The little maid here amuses -me. She is very fond of music, and likes me to sing for her. She asked -me--kindly--if I would like my boots cleaned, and as I thought that I -should, the little dear cleaned them, and brought them to me to show off -her work,--as a six-year-old child of the house might have done. She -looks such an innocent duck!’ - -An expedition to Niagara was achieved with much success; after which she -wrote to one of her aunts in England: ‘My nephews think me amazingly -strong, and yet I have become almost a teetotaller. Except your little -bottle of sherry, I have only tasted wine twice since I left you. How I -did enjoy your lemon-juice!’ - -Her glowing description of the Falls themselves, sent to Mrs. Hamilton, -must be at least in part quoted. Though an oft-related tale, it may -perhaps gain some freshness from her mode of telling it:-- - - ‘CLIFTON HOUSE, NIAGARA FALLS, - ‘_June 22, 1875_. - - ‘I must write to some dear one while the sound of Niagara is in - my ears, whilst the impression of Niagara is fresh in my mind; - and I direct my letter to you, sweet Laura, knowing that you - will let others see it.... - - ‘I have looked on the most glorious scene, I believe, that - is to be seen on this planet. How can I attempt to describe - Niagara? When I gaze on what is called “The American Fall,” I - ask myself a dozen times, “Is it possible that there can be - anything more beautiful?” ... though I have only to turn my head - a little to behold the “Horse-Shoe Fall,” which is even _more_ - gloriously beautiful. The American Fall would make in itself - twenty or thirty cascades that would delight us in England. - O the sparkling rush of diamonds,--the white misty foam - breaking on the picturesque rocks beneath,--the accessories so - beautiful,--the cloud-like veil so transparently lovely! - - ‘Earth here is so fair, with bold crags draperied with the - richest foliage, that one could imagine her contending for the - palm with water; but water carries the victory at Niagara; - Earth but serves to frame and set off her magnificence. If - Earth be green, so is water. Where Niagara plunges over her - Horse-Shoe-shaped rocks, the colour of the water is often - brilliant, crystal-like green. Then as the river emerges from - its veil of spray,--spray sometimes rising pyramid-like for - hundreds of feet,--it assumes a deeper green, more blue than - that of the surrounding foliage, but pure in tint. - - ‘A lovely, most verdant island, Goat Island, divides the two - grand Falls,--or, I may rather say, three, for one glorious - cascade is called Central Fall. In this exquisite island, and - other smaller ones, you wander amongst silent shady woods, or - stand so close to the rushing waters, that one or two steps - would send you over the brink into the cloudy chasm below. - Perhaps, Laura, nothing can better convey to you the impression - left on me, than to tell you what was my repeatedly recurring - thought. “If I had to suffer martyrdom, in no form could it - appear more attractive than by being thrown over Niagara!” - To be launched into eternity, shrouded in that cascade of - diamonds, would rouse such a thrilling sense of the beautiful - and the sublime, that half one’s fears would be swallowed up - in something almost like joy. It would seem ten times more - horrible to be flung from a high tower on to the hard, cold - earth. This is not a mere fancy of my own. I find that I am not - alone in thinking that death would appear less repulsive at - Niagara than elsewhere.[23] - - ‘I have seen the many beauties of this place well.... I have - looked on the rapids above the Falls. They seemed to me an - emblem of human life. Such a rushing,--such a hurry,--chafing - against obstacles,--impatience, passion, excitement. Then comes - the grand leap--boldly, almost joyously, taken,--the leap into - cloud and mystery,--and below, the river emerges from froth and - foam, comparatively calm. One wonders that it is as quiet as it - appears to be after such a plunge! - - ‘Yes, I shall never see such a sight again, till I behold the - Great White Throne, and the Sea of Glass, like unto crystal. - - ‘We all wandered about yesterday, till we were too much tired - to wander more. We had intended to sit up to see moonlight on - Niagara; but instead of so doing we separated at 9. I soon fell - asleep, but I woke in the dim twilight, I suppose at about 3 - A.M. The opportunity was not to be lost. I washed and dressed, - as much by feeling as by sight, opened my venetian shutters, - and walked out into the verandah which commands a fine view of - both Falls. - - ‘I was in utter solitude, under the light of the moon. Not in - silence, for the sound of many waters is unceasing. I suppose - that for thousands of years Niagara has been praising her - Creator, as she does now. The sound is not at all _noisy_; on - the contrary, it does not disturb conversation, which surprises - me. - - ‘I sang snatches of the Hallelujah Chorus, as I looked on the - waterfall by moonlight. There was no distinct play of moonbeams - on the water; there was an immense amount of mist,--one felt - as if looking down on clouds. Presently the clouds in the sky - flushed rosy in the dawn; the moon grew pale; Niagara with - her emerald green more distinct. I waited till I had seen the - sunrise--it was not a very bright one--and then I retired to - my room, and went to sleep again.... Solitude is congenial at - Niagara.... I do not care to write on trifling themes now.... - - ‘A thought came to my mind as I was resting just now. As - photographs, however faithful, convey but a very inadequate - idea of the real Niagara, so must our highest conceptions of - Heaven fall short of Heaven itself. Who that has merely seen - a photograph, or many photographs, of the Falls, can drink in - the beauty of the living, bounding, changing, glorious miracle - of Nature, which is beheld here? Yet Niagara itself is but a - bubble, compared with “the glory which shall be revealed.”’ - -Towards the end of July she returned home, to spend a few last weeks with -her dear ones before bidding them a long farewell and going forth to -her Indian campaign. Through all these weeks she does not seem to have -relaxed in her persevering study of Hindustani, or in her struggle with -the difficult gutturals which had to be mastered. Apart from this she -must have had enough to occupy her time. Among lesser employments, she -is said to have spent hours at a time in looking through her papers and -letters--the collection of a literary lifetime--and consigning masses of -the same to destruction. One cannot but wish that the destruction had -been less wholesale. - -The Dismissal Meeting of Missionaries was on the 11th of October; and two -or three days later the _Strathclyde_ sailed. - -To most of her relatives the parting was a good deal softened by the -conviction that Charlotte Tucker would surely soon find herself compelled -to give in, and to return to England. One of her nieces can say: ‘We all -thought, when she left us for India, that she would fail in health, and -be obliged to come home again. And so I could stand at the doorway, and -watch her as she turned round in our carriage to wave her last good-bye, -without any misgiving that it was indeed the last time that I should see -that bright smile.’ - -But her sister, Mrs. Hamilton, the loved Laura of early days, had a -truer prescience of how things would be. Speaking afterwards to a friend -about that day of parting, and about the intense, loving devotion which -had always existed between them, she said: ‘When my sister and I parted -from one another, it was a parting for ever on Earth. My sister will not -return to England on furlough, as other Missionaries do, for the reason -that she could not again go through the pain of separation.’ - -At the time little was said in letters about that heart-rending pain. It -had to be endured, and it was endured courageously. - -So ended the fifty-four years of Charlotte Maria Tucker’s English Life. -She turned herself now, with a smile of good cheer, to the eighteen years -of her Indian Life--the Evening of her days. Three-quarters of her tale -is told, counting by years. Only one-quarter remains to be told. - -Fifty-four years of preparation; and then the Evening of hard toil. -Fifty-four years given to slow perfecting of the instrument; and then -eighteen years of use for that instrument. This was what it came to. Not -that her English life had been without its uses and its fruits; but the -long, quiet home-existence had doubtless been mainly a making ready--or -rather, a being made ready--for that which was to come after. The first -was subordinate to the second. - -Was it very long preparation for comparatively short work? But the worth -of work done does not depend upon the length of time occupied in the -doing. We may better understand this if we think of our Blessed Lord’s -Life,--the Thirty Years of silent preparation and waiting; and then the -Three Years’ Ministry. Each moment of His Life upon Earth bore fruit; but -none the less, those Thirty Years were mainly of preparation for what -should follow. - -There are some who would not agree with Charlotte Tucker in considering -‘Missionary work of all work the highest’; yet in one sense, if not in -all senses, it certainly is so. The soldier who goes on a forlorn-hope -expedition ranks higher in the minds of men than the soldier who remains -in camp; and the pioneer is counted worthy of more honour than the -settler. - -We hear in these days many a careless sneer levelled at attempts to -convert the Heathen, at the uselessness and fruitlessness of such -efforts. Nothing is easier than for a man, sitting at home in his -luxurious arm-chair, to flout those who go forth into heathen lands. -And there is a certain trick of seeming common-sense in the arguments -used, which sounds convincing. So much money spent, and so many lives -sacrificed,--and for what? Half-a-dozen converts, perhaps, in a dozen -years, some of whom prove in the end to be faithless, while others are -very far from being faultless saints. Is the result worth the outlay? - -As for the characters of some of the converts, we only have to look at -home, and to see for ourselves what the average civilised and well-taught -and highly-trained Englishman is--how very far in a large majority of -cases from being either blameless, or saintly, or entirely faithful to -his Baptismal vows. After that glance, one may feel less surprised to -hear of failures among young and untrained converts, the whole _pull_ of -whose previous lives has been utterly adverse to Christianity; not to -speak of the baneful effects of a surrounding heathen atmosphere, always -present after conversion. - -But as to the main argument,--whether the result is worth the outlay,--I -should be disposed to say at once frankly that, from a purely mercantile -point of view, it certainly is _not_. Very often indeed the immediate -results, seen to follow upon Missionary work, are not at all commensurate -with the amount of money spent. Many a Missionary has given his time, his -income, his life, his all, for the sake of no apparent results in his own -lifetime. There have been grand men, who have toiled steadily on through -ten years, twenty years, thirty years; and at the close, if they have had -any converts at all to show for their labours, those converts could be -counted on their fingers. - -It may well be that one man brought out of the darkness of heathendom is -a prize worth fifty times--or five thousand times--the money expended in -bringing him. But this would not be seen from the mercantile point of -view. Neither does it touch the true gist of the question. - -A little story told of the great Duke of Wellington, so ardently admired -by Charlotte Tucker, shall supply us with a clue here. Whether or no -the tale itself be genuine hardly affects its value as bearing on the -subject. A young clergyman is stated to have one day, in the presence of -the Duke, spoken about foreign Missions in the disparaging terms often -affected by a particular class of young men. One can exactly picture how -he did it,--the supercilious contempt of one who knew little about the -matter; and the careless looking down upon all who did not agree with -himself. But the Iron Duke is said to have responded sternly:-- - -‘SIR, YOU FORGET YOUR MARCHING ORDERS,--“GO YE INTO ALL THE WORLD, AND -PREACH THE GOSPEL TO EVERY CREATURE!”’ - -If the Duke did not speak the words, they sound very like what he would -have spoken. It is a soldier’s view of the matter, and it is the view -which all true ‘soldiers and servants of Christ’ ought to take. For this -is no question of mercantile views, of business arrangements, of what -will or will not repay, of so many converts more or less, of success and -failure. This is not in any wise a question of results. It is purely and -simply a question of Obedience. The Church generally is commanded to -preach the Gospel throughout the world; whether men will hear, or whether -they will not. Individuals are bound to go, _if called_,--and if not -themselves called, they are bound to send others. - -All of us who are Baptized in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and -of the Holy Spirit, are bound to His Service who is our Royal Master; -and His orders we have unquestioningly to obey. Whether or no we can -see the wisdom, the necessity, of what He commands to be done, makes -no difference. We are but privates in His Army; and a private has no -business with an opinion of his own as to where he shall go or what he -shall do in the time of war. - -When the ‘noble six hundred’ of Balaclava were ordered to charge the -Russian guns, they knew the uselessness of the act, the certainty of a -blunder; but with that they had no concern. - - ‘Their’s not to make reply, - Their’s not to reason why, - Their’s but to do and die!’ - -And though with our Royal Master we have no fear of mistakes, the same -spirit of absolute obedience must be ours, whether or no we fully see -the reasons for each command. What would be thought of an English -soldier who, on being ordered to some lonely and difficult post, were, -instead of going at once, to begin to calculate whether it were worth -while,--whether the cost and trouble of his going would be sufficiently -repaid by results? Yet such is the spirit in which certain soldiers of -the Cross--somewhat faithless soldiers, surely!--are disposed to regard -this great Marching Order of our Captain and King. - -Another way of looking upon the question is embodied in certain popular -ideas that, on the whole, the Heathen may be hardly worse off as -Heathen than they would be as Christians. The less knowledge, the less -responsibility, we are told; and a good deal of cant is talked on this -subject. Those who have seen how things verily are in heathen lands, -those who have witnessed the awful and desperate cruelties which there -prevail, know what the argument is worth as to the present life. While as -to the future,--let it be fully granted that ignorance means few stripes, -that every excuse will be made for those who did not and could not know -better, that increase of knowledge must of necessity mean increase of -responsibility. But there again we come back to our ‘marching orders.’ -If Christ died for the heathen, if God wills that they shall know the -Truth and shall at least have it in their power to rise thereby to higher -levels, what are we to dare to decide that they shall be left in darkness? - -The whole question of our duty as Christians, on this point as on all -others, hinges here,--Are we doing, or are we not doing, that which God -wills us to do? All theories respecting outlays, values, results, sink -into utter insignificance beside this question. If we are called to -go, it is not for the sake of honour, it is not for the sake even of -success, but it is simply for the doing of the Will of God. If we are -bidden to remain at home, it is still for the doing of His Will,--and -that Will includes the spreading of the Church of Christ throughout the -world. Those who stay at home can at least help those who go on this -mission. - -In the matter of results very unreasonable expectations are often formed. -The best results do not commonly appear at once, and may not appear for a -lifetime. A farmer ploughs his land, then sows his seed, and then waits -months for the harvest. The Church too frequently scratches the hard -ground with an impatient hand, drops in a few seeds, and immediately -breaks into lamentations, because no instantaneous harvest springs forth. - -It may take twenty years merely to plough the hard ground in some heathen -spot, and to sow the seed; and years more may pass before the first -tokens of a harvest are seen. Sometimes the fuller results are the longer -delayed. Mustard-seeds spring up a good deal faster than acorns. - -The main work of Charlotte Tucker’s eighteen years was to be that of -ploughing. And whether few or many converts rewarded her toil is an -entirely secondary consideration. They would have been very gratifying -to her own feelings, no doubt; and that said, all is said. Results there -were; but not all kinds of results can be reckoned upon one’s fingers. -Charlotte Tucker went out in obedience to what she felt to be the Divine -call, the Divine command. So long as she was steadily endeavouring to do -the Will of God, results might very well be left in His Hand. The Word of -God does not return to Him void; but naturally its working is not always -apparent to us. - - - - -PART II - -LIFE IN INDIA - - - ‘O Spirit of the Lord, prepare - All the round Earth her God to meet; - Breathe Thou abroad like morning air, - Till hearts of stone begin to beat. - - ‘Baptize the Nations; far and nigh - The triumphs of the Cross record; - The Name of JESUS glorify - Till every kindred call Him Lord.’ - - - - -CHAPTER I - -A.D. 1875 - -FIRST ARRIVAL IN INDIA - - -In the second week of October 1875, Miss Tucker left English shores, -never to return. The voyage was uneventful, differing therein from her -trip to Canada. On its very next voyage the good ship _Strathclyde_, -which carried her to the East, went down within sight of Dover. But no -threatenings of such a catastrophe disturbed A. L. O. E. on her way out. - -A fellow-passenger on board the _Strathclyde_ wrote long afterwards:-- - - ‘My first introduction to A. L. O. E. was when I was lying in - all the helplessness of the first days of my first voyage, - quite unable to stir from the deck. I became conscious of - a grey-haired lady stooping over me, offering some _eau de - cologne_, and with a winning smile asking if she could do - anything for me. She was a good sailor, and in those miserable - days moved about amongst the sea-sick passengers like an - angel of mercy. Even then dear Miss Tucker looked very frail - and delicate; and one could scarcely have expected that she - would be spared for eighteen years to work in all the heat and - discomfort of India. One thing remarkable about her on that - voyage was the influence she had over the men on board,--some - of them quite indifferent, if not hostile, to religion. No one - could withstand her genial, loving ways; and it was a sight to - be remembered, to see her gathering the young fellows round the - piano, while she led off in some old English ditty.’ - -Her own letters to Mrs. Hamilton, while on board, are cheery as usual, -and speak no word of pain or longing for all that she had left behind; -indeed the very first ends merrily: ‘Please give my kindest love to your -dearest girl, and tell her that I have already hung up her famous bag. I -hope that no ayah will _bag_ it! I could not resist the pun, bad as it -is.’ - -There were five ayahs on board, and she soon struck up an acquaintance -with one of them,--a Christian ayah,--reading aloud her Hindustani Bible, -and delighted to find that the ayah could understand what was read. ‘I am -bribing one to teach me,’ she wrote. ‘The ayahs ought to be glad to help; -for they, at least two or three of them, seem to regard me as a kind of -supplementary nurse, and if they want to go to work make over the baby to -me.’ In the same letter she states: ‘We have a strong Missionary force -on board; two Scotchmen, the wife of one of them, and six Missionary -ladies. We have not quarrelled at all; but then, most of us have been -sea-sick!’--again a little glimmer of fun. ‘We lady Missionaries get on -very well together,’ she says in another letter. ‘Very gentle and modest -are the Misses A., “your pretty girls,” as Lady I. called them to-day.’ - -As to amusements on board, she wrote:-- - - ‘Lady I. has started a game which dear Leila and Fred may add - to their store at Christmas. She wrote something, missing out - all adjectives. A gentleman went round and collected adjectives - haphazard from the passengers, inserting them in the places - left blank. The piece was then read out. It was a description - of the voyage and many of the passengers. Of course nobody - could be offended, because the adjectives came haphazard. But - how your young folk would have laughed when, amongst other - personages described, came--“Miss Tucker, of a _grandiloquent_ - disposition, with other _bouncing_ Missionary ladies.”’ - -About a fortnight later she wrote:-- - - ‘A contrast to ---- is Mr. S., the competition-wallah, - probably the most highly educated man in the ship. I look - upon him as the Squire of the Mission ladies. In his most - quiet, proper fashion, he is ever ready to do our behests; - and he never seems to tire of hymn-singing.... He has evidently - plenty of moral courage. The very funniest thing was that Mr. - S. was actually present at the solemn conclave held by us six - M. L.[24] to decide whether we could conscientiously attend - a second theatrical amateur performance, _Mr. S. having been - the principal actor_ in the first one, which we did attend. It - was as if Garrick had been present at a Clapham conference on - the subject of whether it were right to go to see him act!!! - Mr. S. was very amiable and good: he had taken a great deal of - trouble to amuse the passengers, and _his_ part was perfectly - unexceptionable; but if we all absent ourselves next time I do - not think that he will take any offence. I proposed that we - should all sleep over the matter, one of my reasons being that - I could not but feel Mr. S.’s presence a _little_ embarrassing. - On the following day we met without him, and decided that the - question is to be an open one; each M. L. is to judge according - to her own conscience. I believe that we shall divide; but this - is not, we have agreed, to disturb the harmony between the M. - L.’ - -After a few days spent in ‘bright, beautiful Bombay’--these are her own -words--she proceeded by rail with one companion to Allahabad. A pause at -Jabalpur had been planned, but this fell through; and they accomplished -the whole long journey of 845 miles without a break. Wisely, her friends -had insisted on first-class, and she was none the worse for the fatigue. -On the very morning of her arrival at Allahabad she could say: ‘I had a -nice warm bath, and then a good breakfast, and I feel almost as fresh as -if I had not travelled 845 miles at a stretch, but merely taken a little -drive. Think how strong I must be!’ - -Later in the same letter, a long and cheery one, bearing no signs of -fatigue, she speaks of Mr. George Bowen, an American Missionary, who had -‘laboured without intermission for twenty-eight years’ in the East, and -who was known among Natives as ‘the English Faqir,’ on account of his -wandering and self-denying life. - - ‘He will take no salary,’ she wrote, ‘but has earned his own - living, I hear, by teaching, supporting himself on the merest - trifle. I esteem it a great honour that I sat beside him at - breakfast at the Zenana Mission House last Thursday. Mr. Bowen - looks quite skin and bone, wondrously thin, but not in the - least unhealthy, but as if there were plenty of work in him - still. He told me that he does not “believe in age.” He seems - to feel as fresh as he did twenty-eight years ago; and yet at - the beginning of his career he was so fearfully ill that his - life was given up, and he wrote his farewell to his mother. - As India has agreed so splendidly with Mr. Bowen, I asked - him--as I generally do those who thrive in the climate--whether - he drank only water. “Tea,” he replied, smiling. He gave his - opinion that to take stimulant here is “the way to have to - leave the country.” Almost all the Missionaries whom I have - met appear to be water-drinkers. I am particularly delighted - with the American Missionaries whom I have seen.... I am ashamed - of ever having had a prejudice against Yankees. I am attracted - also by Native Christian ladies.’ - -On her way up-country she came in for the wedding of a Missionary lady, -and after her usual fashion she was most active in helping; working hard -at the making of wreaths and at the decoration of the Ludhiana Church -porch. As the married pair were about to drive off, rice was brought to -be thrown; but somebody present objected to the custom for India, as -originally heathen, and liable to be misunderstood.’ Then the horses -shall have it!’ declared Miss Tucker; and with two hands well filled she -went to the horse’s heads, and fed them, amid much laughter, in which she -heartily joined. Her own description of the event is overflowing with -spirit and enjoyment. It is dated November 30. - - ‘I have just come in to rest a bit, and wash my soiled - hands,--for what do you think that I have been about?--at - the express request of the bride, helping to decorate the - church for her wedding, which is to come off to-day. This - house is jammed full--that is to say, a good deal more full - than is comfortable; but the kind folk would not hear of my - leaving till after the wedding, so I do not go to my home till - to-morrow morning. Indian railways are regardless of convenient - hours. I, who was up this morning soon after five, must be up - to-morrow morning soon after three. Of course I had to arrive - here by starlight; and on the same night there had been another - arrival at one A.M. ... There is a grand tamasha[25] about the - wedding. Every one seems pleased. It is Missionary wedding - Missionary, and--perhaps I had better go and make myself - useful.... - - ‘_Later._ Oh, such a pretty wedding! The little church fresh - white-washed within, clean as a wedding-cake. The porch almost - like a bower. A border of flowers on either side up the centre - made a kind of path. Then the presence of the school-girls - in their white chaddahs; the number of Natives in their - picturesque costumes,--both Christians and heathen, inside the - church and looking in from the outside,--all made a charming - scene. - - ‘But before we went to church, a Begum, a royal lady, - granddaughter of Shah-Soojah, came to see the fun. And only - fancy, Laura, I was left for perhaps a quarter of an hour to - entertain the fine old lady. Would not your Fred and Leila have - laughed to have seen me, making gallant efforts to keep up - conversation with my dreadfully bad Hindustani. I dashed at it, - tried to explain why I wore a black dress when I had lilac and - blue ones at Amritsar, told her that I had never been married, - answered questions regarding my family, etc. The Begum laughed, - and I laughed, for I knew that my Hindustani was very bad; but - I did remember always to use the respectful “Ap”[26] to the - princess. - - ‘Presently the dear old Missionary, Mr. Rudolph, appeared. The - “pardah”[27] lady, on seeing a man, hid behind an arm-chair. - But when I told her that it was “Rudolph Sahib,” the old lady - said that he was her father, and that she would make her salaam - to him. I hear that the Begum is almost a Christian, and she - can read. Wrapped in her chaddah, she walked with me to church, - and stayed through the service. I was close behind her. When it - was over, I managed to say a little sentence to her in rather - better Hindustani, “The Lord Jesus Christ is here; He gives - blessing.” The Begum gave a sound of assent.’ - -Next day, the first of December, Charlotte Tucker reached Amritsar,--the -spot which she fully expected to be her home for many a year to come. -But Amritsar was only a stage on the road to Batala, where her Indian -work really lay. - -All who know aught of India know the name of ‘The Panjab’;[28] that -province to the far north, a land of five great rivers, where in Mutiny -days so much was done for the preservation of our Indian Empire. -Amritsar[29] is one of the larger cities of the Panjab, containing a -population of about 135,000 inhabitants,--Hindus, Muhammadans, and Sikhs. -It is the Holy City of the Sikhs, and has their ‘golden temple,’ wherein -they worship, and wherein also is kept their sacred book, the ‘Granth.’ - -Missionary work has been mainly carried on in the Panjab by the Church -Missionary Society; just as, in many parts of Bengal, Missionary work -has been mainly carried on by the Society for the Propagation of the -Gospel. Where the one great Church Society has obtained a footing, the -other great Church Society does not interfere in either case, but goes -elsewhere in the Mission field. It is greatly to be wished that this -spirit of courtesy were more widely seen in the working of Missions -generally among the heathen. During late years the ladies of the Church -Zenana Society have come in as an additional help to the Societies -above-named,--as true ‘handmaids,’ alike in the Panjab and in other parts -of India. - -The Mission premises are about half-a-mile distant from the City of -Amritsar. A. L. O. E.’s first Indian home was here; in a bungalow, -surrounded by a large compound or garden which was part of the Mission -premises. When she arrived, in the beginning of December, roses were in -full bloom, as well as abundantly-flowering shrubs and creepers. The -great banyan-tree, which grew and still grows in front of the bungalow, -was soon named by Miss Tucker ‘The Mission Tree.’ - -A warm welcome was given to her by the Missionary ladies living -there:--Miss Emily Wauton, who still labours on in the same spot, though -nearly twenty years have passed since that day; Mrs. Elmslie, widow of -Dr. Elmslie, the Pioneer of Missionary work in Cashmere; Miss Florence -Swainson; and Miss Ada Smith;--not to speak of the C.M.S. Missionary -gentleman living close by. - -After her wont, Miss Tucker was very eager, very bright, very anxious to -become immediately one of the little circle. That first evening, as they -sat round the table, she said: ‘I don’t want to be “Miss Tucker” here. -Can’t you all call me “Charlotte Maria”?’ The ladies naturally demurred. -‘We could not possibly,’ they said. Miss Tucker’s face fell a little; -then came a happy thought, and she brightened up. ‘Call me “Auntie,”’ she -said. ‘So many call me “Auntie.” All of you must do so.’ - -‘But we cannot directly. We don’t know you yet,’ objected the others -again. - -She was very much delighted when Mr. Rowland Bateman, one of the -Missionaries, began the same evening, without hesitation, to speak to her -as ‘Auntie.’ - -Soon after, news came of the death of her brother, Mr. Henry Carre -Tucker. It was needful to arrange for her mourning; and pending the -arrival of other things, one of the younger ladies offered to alter -for her an old black silk dress which she had. Going to her room, the -young lady knocked and said, ‘Miss Tucker, may I have the dress now?’ -No answer. Another attempt;--and ‘No Miss Tucker here!’ was the result. -‘Unless you call me “Auntie,” you will not have it.’ ‘But how can I so -soon? I don’t know you yet,’ was once more the unavailing plea. Miss -Tucker had her way, however; and thenceforward she became ‘Auntie’ to an -ever-increasing circle of nephews and nieces in India. - -Some extracts from her own letters, written to Mrs. Hamilton in the -December of 1875, will give, far better than words of mine can do, the -impressions received in her new position. - - ‘_December 2, 1875._ - - ‘It is early morning, before 6 A.M., my first morning in my - new home. A cock has been crowing, otherwise everything is - profoundly still. I hear a cart in the distance. You will like - to hear something of my surroundings. - - ‘Mrs. Elmslie came to meet me at the station; also Mr. Clark - and Mr. Baring. It was slightly bewildering, for, says Mr. - Clark, “the Bishop wants to see you; he and Miss Milman are to - go off by this train.” Now the thought most in my mind was, “I - won’t let poor dear Miss F.[30] think that I desert her for - new acquaintances.” She also was going on by the train; but - there was a pause at Amritsar station for perhaps a quarter of - an hour. So I had to be agreeable to the Bishop, Miss F., and - all,--and keep Mrs. Elmslie waiting besides. - - ‘This is a splendid room of mine ... about twenty-four feet - each way, and so lofty. I am surprised at the elegance of - these Indian bungalows. Please put from your mind all idea of - _hardship_.[31] I have now lived in four bungalows, and all - have elegant rooms, and there is such an air of refinement that - I have great doubts whether it would be the correct thing to - put out my hand and take a slice of bread off a plate. Mrs. - Elmslie is a lovely lady, tall, slight, fair; but however tall, - a lady every inch of her; she might be a Countess with her meek - dignity....’ - - ‘_December 9._ - - ‘I directed _via Brindisi_ my sad letters to the almost - broken-hearted mourners, and I thought, “I will write no more - by this mail. I should only write on one theme, my precious, - noble Henry.” But I have since thought that I was wrong in - this determination. My own sweet Laura will be closing a heavy - year.... If I can turn the channel of sad thoughts, it is better - that I should write, and not only on one theme. She will like - to hear of my home and my work, and I ought to write to the - darling!... - - ‘What shall I say of Mrs. Elmslie? She is one of a million. I - never met with any woman in my life so like an angel without - wings. Tall, fair, elegant, graceful, with a face that Ary - Scheffer might have chosen to paint for a seraph,--her soul - seems to correspond to her external appearance. Saintly as she - is, she is not in the _least_ gloomy; she tries to make all - happy, and is business-like and practical. Fitted to grace a - drawing-room, she throws her heart into school-work, and seems - to manage the house beautifully. It will give you an idea how - winning she is, when I tell you that Miss Wauton and Miss - Hasell call Mrs. Elmslie “Mother,” “Mother dear,” though the - name seems strange from one who looks quite as old as herself. - You should see Mrs. Elmslie with a black baby in her arms, - looking at it with such loving tenderness and pleasure too, - just as its guardian angel might.... - - ‘I must not fill up all my letter with my sweet friend, and it - is nearly time that I should take my morning walk. I always - take a rapid one in the compound, which is large, with a good - many trees and nice flowering shrubs in it. I hope always to - keep up the habit, which is so very conducive to health; but of - course I shall not walk so _fast_ when the hot weather comes. - - ‘It may give you a little idea of life here, if I describe - yesterday’s occupations. - - ‘I rose about six, dressed, and wrote a little. My Ayah brought - me early breakfast. I went out and took my walk, then returned - and prepared for my Munshi.[32] He is a convert, and was - baptized last month, with his two little children. The Maulvi, - as we call him, is a dear good man, but too indulgent for a - teacher. He is not particular enough in correcting my faults. - I have an hour with him before breakfast; and after the meal - comes family worship--the morning hymn, prayer, and chapter, - always in Urdu. - - ‘After prayers yesterday I returned for a short time to my room - and occupations. I was engaged to go to “the city”--within the - walls of Amritsar--with Mrs. Elmslie; for it is desirable that - I should see work going on. The conveyance is a kind of large - box of a carriage, contrived to let in air and keep out sun. - Yesterday we went to four native houses; Mrs. Elmslie went to - a fifth, but went alone. Such strange narrow lanes one has to - go through; sometimes on foot where the gari could not go, - mounting up to the first floor of the houses by very steep - steps.... - - ‘We returned home after our city visits, and had dinner. - Yesterday being Wednesday, after dinner we went to church; - we always attend the _Native_ church. As the prayers are a - translation of our own Liturgy, I can join in them well enough, - but I can yet make very little of the sermon.... - - ‘I find it a good plan to go to Mrs. Elmslie’s Orphanage, and - sit and listen to the lessons, and thus learn myself. The girls - in their white chaddars[33] look, generally speaking, well - and happy. I was to have amused some of the younger ones last - Sunday with Bible pictures; but when I had had the sad letters - I gave up my intention of helping sweet Mrs. Elmslie in this - way. I hope to do so another time.’ - - ‘_December 13._ - - ‘I have so much to interest me here, and every one is so - kind.... I call this bungalow “House Beautiful,” on account of - the dwellers within it. It is also a nice refined place, with - an extensive compound, and plenty of trees and flowers. If I - were not so busy I should like to send you a sketch of it; but - daylight seems too short for what I want to do; and when once - my mouth is really opened, I shall feel as if I never could get - through all the interesting work that is to be done. The ladies - here have a kind of general superintendence of twenty-two - schools--_not_ Christian--but where they are allowed to teach - the Bible. Fancy what an opening!’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_Dec. 13._ - - ‘There are some things in Indian life which would strike you as - curious. For instance, I have _five_ glass doors to my bedroom. - One alone is never opened ... but through all the others people, - especially my Ayah, come in; and she never knocks.... Folk can - walk in from the outside of the house through two of my glass - doors. It is a very public sort of living, but it is Indian - fashion. The great thing is to let in abundance of air; and - where air comes in other things come in too. I have, however, - “chick” blinds to my outer doors; these are made of thin split - bamboos; and if I let them down, no one can see in. Of course - they would not keep out my dear little Ayah; she can always pop - in by lifting the chicks. She is the only one who really laughs - at my bad Urdu.... My Munshi laughs a little, but not in the same - way. He is gentle and pleasing.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Dec. 21._ - - ‘I have been waiting to write to you till the tardy mail - should come in. But why wait any longer, when I have always so - much to say to my Laura now?--only I lack time--and light--for - this is the shortest day, and the houses are built to keep out - light, which comes in underneath a heavy verandah, so that I am - sometimes obliged to feel rather than to see.... - - ‘I did not open my picture-box for some time after my arrival, - but when it was opened it would have pleased you to have seen - the pleasure given by its contents, including your lovely - tidies. Mrs. Elmslie was eager as a girl, settling where the - different pictures were to be hung, jumping up on chairs, and - keeping us up beyond our usual hour for retiring, for she - could not bear to leave the picture-question unsettled. We had - consultation, trying this place and that place on the walls, - trying to balance sides and keep all things straight. For the - angel-lady likes to have everything pretty.... It seems to me as - if both England and America had sent their cream to India. But - then Amritsar is a specially favoured place.... As is natural - where the Missionaries are first-rate, there is a great deal of - leaven working amongst the heathen.’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_Dec. 23._ - - ‘Though I posted a letter to your sweet Mother only yesterday, - perhaps I had better tell you of my visit to the Zenana of ---- - whilst it is fresh in my mind. Dear C., Miss H., and myself - went to-day to visit this Muhammadan house. It is a handsome - one, in the midst of fine park-like grounds; and from the lofty - verandah we had a better view of part of our city than I have - seen before. - - ‘The Muhammadan Sahib has three wives. I suppose that they were - the three middle-aged or elderly native women who sat on a - bed; the other five women present, old or young, may have been - servants; but one of them, a handsome girl, with very dashing - nose-ring, and eyelids blackened on the edges, native-fashion, - shook hands with us as well as served us. There were a fair - number of free-and-easy little dark children playing about. The - eldest is C.’s pupil; and one of the first things done was to - hear her repeat her part in a kind of catechism--Christian, of - course. - - ‘One of the ladies smoked a hookah; had it been even invisible, - we should have been made sensible of its presence by an - occasional bubble-bubble sound, and then a perfume--to our - minds by no means odoriferous. Another lady had her teeth - horridly blackened by what she had been chewing; but, generally - speaking, the natives’ teeth are very nice and white.... I - showed off my beautiful chatelaine, your dear Father’s gift, - which I think pleased; and Miss H. showed hers, which is quite - different in style. You must not suppose that this was a mere - visit of amusement.... No, we had Bible-reading and hymn-singing; - and afterwards C. was evidently holding a religious discussion - with the elder lady. - - ‘_Dec. 24._--I find that only two of the ladies were wives of - the Sahib; the third was somebody’s relation. - - ‘Mr. Clark[34] approves of my Oriental tale, only he wishes - some names altered. He is going to give me a list of names, - Muhammadan and Hindu.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Christmas Day 1875._ - - ‘I was awakened in the night by the Indian Waits, children - singing in the language of the Sikhs ... one of their native - airs. My little Ayah came up to me and shook hands when she - entered my room early in the morning,--is not this the great - Day, and is not she a Christian?--so she may indeed rejoice - and be glad in it. I have prepared little presents for the - dear ladies here, except C., to whom I gave a wedding-present - yesterday. I will pause now, and go on later in the day, when - I may better describe our Indian Christmas. 6½ A.M. Orphans - singing hymns at the top of their voices. They are evidently - very happy. They are to have a Christmas tree. - - ‘_Later._--I have come home from church, from receiving the - Holy Communion. Thank God, the sheaves _are_ being gathered - in! What would dear Henry Martyn not have given to have seen - what I saw to-day? So many Natives remained to share the holy - Feast, men and women, young and old,--in our little church - there must have been nearly if not quite fifty communicants. I - received the Cup from the hand of a Native. I felt the scene - quite affecting. It is a great privilege to be in India, and - specially now, when the blades are ripening,--though, oh, how - few in number, compared with the Muhammadans and heathen! - - ‘After church and luncheon I went to the Orphanage Garden, to - help sweet Margaret[35] to deck the Christmas Tree. In less - than half an hour the little guests are to be summoned to - receive their dolls, tops, books, etc. I expect a charming - scene.’ - - - - -CHAPTER II - -A.D. 1875-1876 - -A HOME IN AMRITSAR - - -In the previous spring, when first Charlotte Tucker decided to go -out, she wrote in one letter a statement of the financial plan to be -followed. ‘I have arranged with the Society,’ she said, ‘to pay 200 -rupees a quarter for my board and lodging, exclusive of Munshi[36] -and conveyance.’ For this she had been told to expect a bedroom and a -bathroom; meals being taken with the other Missionaries. She had also -been told that she would require an Ayah and ‘half a tailor.’ ‘I do not -want superfluities,’ she wrote; ‘for mine is a modest income, and I -should not like to spend it all on myself.’ - -Modest though it might be, she gave away largely, restricting herself -to a limited amount, and practising great economy. After being for a -while in India, she seems to have been strongly impressed with a dread -of needless luxuries, and to have become eager to set an example of -extreme simplicity in the Missionary life. The rigid simplicity which she -cultivated was, no doubt, partly a matter of pure economy, that she might -have the more to give away,--partly a matter of her innate generosity; -but partly also it arose from a deep-rooted desire to remove the -reproach, which has of late been often levelled at the ease and luxury, -real or supposed, of many Missionaries in India or elsewhere. - -It is always a difficult question to decide in such cases what does or -does not constitute luxury. For example, the number of servants kept, -which often startles an Englishman, is unavoidable to some extent, -arising from the very low wages given, and the small amount of work -which each servant will undertake. Indian servants sleep often in the -verandah or in outside huts, and provide their own food out of their -small wages; so, keeping several of them is a very different matter from -keeping many English servants. Moreover, an Englishman, still more an -Englishwoman, labouring in such a climate as that of India, _must_ as -a matter of simple safety have many things which in England would be -entirely needless. To walk any distance under the heat of the Indian -sun would for the ordinary European often mean death. To ‘rough it,’ to -brave the climate, to be reckless of hardships, would in the majority of -instances be tantamount to suicide. Yet, on the other hand, it may well -be that under the guise of necessity some things not necessary have here -and there crept in. A story has been told of an officer, himself a hearty -supporter of Missions, who received a very unfavourable impression of -one particular Missionary from observing the large amount of comfortable -furniture which arrived at the said Missionary’s bungalow, for the -latter’s use. The officer felt at once, as he said, that the Missionary -‘was not made of the right stuff.’ He may have judged hastily, and he -may have been mistaken. It is by no means impossible that the Missionary -_may_ have been ‘of the right stuff,’ despite his superabundance of -home-comforts. Nevertheless, such judgments will be passed, and it is -well if Missionaries can live a life that shall render them uncalled for. - -The more closely modern Missionaries can approximate to Early Church -Missionaries, the better. One can hardly picture S. Paul as settling -down in a very luxurious bungalow, with a very huge amount of luggage; -and though the conditions of life are greatly changed, and allowance has -to be made for the change, yet the principle and spirit of Missionary -work remain the same. Things harmless may become harmful, if they prove -an actual hindrance to success in the work, if they cause an actual -lessening of influence. The question should be,--not, How much may I -allow myself?--but, How little can I do with? This was the question asked -by Miss Tucker, and she set herself bravely, as the years went on, to -test and to prove how much or how little was truly needed. - -On first arriving she had of course to do simply as she was told,--not -always even that, without protest. When the first Sunday came, she was -informed that they would all drive to church. Miss Tucker objected. She -did not like horses to be made to work on Sunday. She was told that it -was a necessity, but she was not convinced. She would put her large thick -shawl over her head, and walk. Nothing could hurt her through that shawl! -Others had to yield to her will; not without fears of consequences; -and Miss Tucker trudged off alone, with the thick shawl well over her -head--heroically half-suffocated. When they all came out of church, -she would not wait to be driven, but again severely marched off alone. -However, the result of this was so bad a headache--though in general -she never suffered at all from headache--that she was once and for all -convinced. Evidently she could _not_ do in India precisely as in England; -and from that time she consented, when it was necessary, to be driven -to church like the rest. Of course this question of walking or driving -depends largely on the time of year, as well as upon the hour at which -the Service is held. As will be seen later, Miss Tucker never lost her -habits of good walking until quite late in life; and when the hour of -Service or the time of year rendered walking safe, she always preferred -it to being driven. - -Some friends who knew her best in India have been requested to jot -down their recollections, and have most kindly responded. Certain -‘side-lights’ upon what she was will be best thrown by quotations from -two of these papers as to the beginning of her Indian career. - -Miss Wauton writes:-- - - ‘I have been asked to put down a few reminiscences of A. L. O. - E. in her Missionary life in India. But how shall I do it? It - seems like being asked to help in painting a rainbow. We can - hardly compare her to anything else; so varied, so harmonious, - so lovely were the rays of light which she reflected. Spirit - and mind were as a clear prism, through which the light of - Heaven fell, irradiating the atmosphere in which she lived, and - which shone out all the more brightly when seen against the - dark clouds of heathendom. - - ‘The first mention of her intention to come out to India - reached us in May 1875. Well do I remember the evening when - Mr. Clark, coming to our Bungalow, with a letter in his hand, - said, ‘Who do you think is coming to join you here as a - Missionary?--A. L. O. E.!’ The title instantly brought to mind - books such as _The Young Pilgrim_, _The Shepherd of Bethlehem_, - which had delighted us in our childhood’s days. And now we were - to welcome the well-known and gifted authoress into our house! - This _was_ a privilege; and earnestly did we look forward to - the pleasure of receiving her; though at the same time we were - perhaps conscious of a slight shadow of doubt crossing our - minds, as to how far one of Miss Tucker’s age would be able - to accommodate herself to the new surroundings, and bear the - trials incident to life and work in a tropical climate. - - ‘If such doubts did occur to us, they were soon dispelled - by a closer acquaintance with the object of them. The - letters received during the following months by her future - fellow-Missionaries showed with what whole-heartedness she was - coming forth, prepared from thenceforth to make her _home_ in - the land of her adoption, and to devote all she was and all she - had to the grand work of winning the people of India to Christ.... - - ‘Miss Tucker reached Amritsar on the 1st Nov. 1875. The warm - kiss with which she greeted her sister-Missionaries showed the - affectionate nature; and it was not long before we felt that - we had in her, not only a fellow-worker, but a loving and true - friend. At her own request the formal “Miss” was soon dropped, - and she was always addressed as “Auntie.” The family of adopted - nephews and nieces, beginning with three or four, gradually - widened, till it finally embraced more than twenty members. Nor - was this relationship a mere formality. It represented on her - part a very special share in the sympathetic interest extended - to all fellow-Missionaries, and on their side a reverential - love and esteem, which in many cases could not have been - deeper, had the tie been one of natural kinship. - - ‘She soon became known amongst the members of the Indian Church - as the “Buzurg,” or “Honourable” Miss Sahib; and the title of - “Firishta” or “angel” was not unseldom heard in connection with - her name. And indeed they might well call her so. Every time - she spent even a few hours under our roof we felt that we had - entertained an angel, though not unawares, so bright were the - memories she left behind in loving words and deeds.... - - ‘She was so considerate for servants, that she would, during - the first hot weather, often stop her pankah-walas at two or - three o’clock in the morning, for fear of tiring them. Her face - and hands covered with mosquito-bites showed what she endured - in practising this self-denial. It took a long time to convince - her that there was no hardship in employing these men in - night-work, seeing they had plenty of time to rest during the - day. - - ‘A. L. O. E. lost no time in beginning to use her pen in the - service of India. I think it was the very day after her arrival - that she came to us with the MS. in her hand of a little book - she had written on her way up-country. It was called _The - Church built out of One Brick_; its object being to stir up - the Christians of this land to give more liberally, and to - work more heartily, for their own Churches. We were amazed, on - hearing the little story read, at the wonderful knowledge which - Miss Tucker had even then gained, or rather, which she seemed - to have intuitively, of the people amongst whom she had come to - live. She said, “I want to Orientalise my mind”; but she seemed - to have been born with an Oriental mind. Parable, allegory, and - metaphor were the very language in which she thought; and her - thoughts always seemed naturally to clothe themselves in those - figures of speech in which the children of the East are wont to - express themselves. - - ‘She always wrote her books in English, as there was never any - difficulty in getting them translated into the vernaculars. - Many thought that, on this account, she would not care to - study the language; but she had no idea of reaching the people - only through her pen. She was determined, as far as it was - possible, to use her own lips in telling out the message of - salvation she had come to bring. - - ‘Accordingly, she was soon hard at work with primer, grammar, - and dictionary. At the end of a year she passed the Hindustani - Language Examination, and then began Panjabi. She learnt to - express herself intelligibly in both these tongues, though the - acquisition of them cost her many an hour of hard labour. - - ‘How she did toil over them! I remember, when sharing a room - with her once, waking about four o’clock on a cold winter’s - morning, to see her, already dressed, with a book before - her, in which she had herself written in very large printed - characters, that she might the more easily read them, a - long list of Hindustani and Panjabi words, which she was - busily learning off by heart. By this incessant industry she - acquired a large vocabulary, and was also soon able to read - intelligently many vernacular books, which gave her an insight - into the religious life of the people.’ - -The Rev. Robert Clark writes:-- - - ‘I remember well her arrival, when she was received by Mrs. - Elmslie and Miss Wauton in the Mission House.... We felt that a - spiritual as well as an intellectual power had come amongst - us.... Like the great Missionary Swartz, she never went home on - furlough; and she never took more than a month’s[37] holiday - in the year, but remained at her post, hot weather and cold - weather, sometimes eleven months, sometimes twelve months in - the year, during her whole service.... - - ‘Her first endeavour on her arrival in India, as she said, was - to seek to “Orientalise her mind.” She noticed everything, - watched everything around her, sought intercourse with the - people, and tried to think with their thoughts and feel - with their feelings, and to realise their position and - circumstances, in order that she might bring God’s Word to bear - on them _as they were_. It was in this way only that she could - hope to do them good....’ - -During the greater part of 1876 Miss Tucker remained at Amritsar, -cementing her friendship with the ladies there, learning the Hindustani -and Panjabi languages, studying the ways of the people, and writing -little books for translation into the Native tongues. At her age it -was by no means so easy to master a new language as for a younger -person;--indeed, hard as she toiled, she never did absolutely master -any Indian language colloquially, though for a time she became thorough -mistress of the Hindustani grammar and construction. In later years much -that she had conquered, with such hard and persevering toil, slipped from -her again. - -Also, it was less easy for her, than for a younger person, to fall in -with _modes_ of work, so entirely unlike aught to which she had been -accustomed. Her very warm-heartedness and impetuosity were now and then -somewhat of a hindrance,--as when, on her first arrival, going into a -Zenana, she pressed forward and eagerly shook hands with a bibi,--an -Indian lady,--forgetting the difference of Indian customs and English -ones. Had it been a Christian bibi, this would not have mattered. As -it was, the mistake was so serious, that it might have resulted, and -very nearly did result, in the closing of that particular Zenana to all -further efforts. - -The letters home from this time are so full and so abundant, that the -only difficulty lies in selection. By far the larger number are of course -to her much-loved sister, Mrs. Hamilton. For the saving of space, it may -be understood in the future that letters not especially stated to have -been written to any one else, were written to her. - - ‘_Jan. 8, 1876._--My expenses have been less than I expected. - I think that Margaret must be a very good manager.... I can now - form a rough idea of my expenses, and I think my sweet Laura - will like to see a rude estimate.[38] As rupees and annas may - puzzle you, I write in English fashion-- - - Board and Servants (there will be pankahs to pay for), - say-- per annum, £80 - Carriage ” 15 - Travelling ” 25 - Munshi, say ” 10 - Postage, say ” 5 - Dress, etc., etc. ” 20 - ---- - £155 - - ‘As I allow myself £270 in India, you see that I have a nice - balance to spend; so you may be quite easy, and I quite - thankful, regarding finances. One ought to thank God for - independent means; and I am very grateful to my honoured father - also.’ - -FROM MRS. ELMSLIE TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Jan. 13._ - - ‘I am sorry to have been unable to write to you sooner, as - I should have wished to tell you how much we love your dear - sister, and how truly she has already become an honoured and - trusted member of our Mission circle. You know her gentle, - loving, winning ways too well to doubt our soon learning - to love and cherish her; but I dare say you also know her - unselfish character so well, that you will often feel anxious - lest she should suffer on that account. She had not been one - hour with us before I found out that it is her delight to be - giving to others the comforts and honours which are due to - herself; and it shall be my endeavour that she shall not lose - one iota of anything that should help her, or of anything that - is truly good for her. Being the housekeeper here, I can manage - this.... - - ‘Her understanding of the language and character of the people - is quite wonderful. I hardly think any one ever read character - so clearly and truly as she does,--or so charitably. She sees - good in all. And when she must acknowledge some blemishes, - she finds some kind excuse for them. “Thinketh no evil” seems - written on her brow. I believe she will do much for India, if - spared; she sees where teaching is needed, and her ready mind - so cleverly weaves the lessons into sweet stories which, when - read by the people, will do wonders in opening their minds. - I hope she will be persuaded to go to the hills in summer, - for this work, which is so peculiarly her own, can be carried - on there as well as here, and at one-thousandth part of the - expense to physical strength.’ - -C. M. T. TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_Feb. 1, 1876._ - - ‘I feel as if one of my chief works here must be to try and - keep up the spirits of my poor, anxious, overworked companions. - I cannot possibly take much work off their hands; but my - loving, clinging Margaret seems to feel it such a comfort to - have an _elderly_ friend to lean on.’ - -Towards the end of February Miss Tucker went, with Mrs. Elmslie and two -Bible-women, on her first itinerating expedition,--not, as she herself -said, to use her lips, but to use her eyes. Writing while away, she -says:-- - - ‘Behold us here, my Queen Lily[39] and I, encamped in the midst - of a Sikh village, and living in a tent, without lock or key, - with as little sensation of danger as I had at Woodlands or - Firlands.... - - ‘It was indeed romantic to travel along that wild path by - starlight.... Do you remember the well-known engraving of Una - with her lion entering a witch’s cave? Now, as I jogged along - in my duli,[40] while Margaret rode on her white pony, she made - me think of that picture of Una. She is so fair, so graceful, - so pure-looking, with her chiselled profile and her sweet - expression; I could not make out, however, anything that would - do for the lion. - - ‘Dear Leila’s most useful bag is now fastened up in our tent.... - Poor Sarah Jones’ night-bag is on my bed; please ask dear Leila - to tell her so, when she sees her, with my kind remembrances. - - ‘Oh, a Sikh village is a curious place; built of mud, and - pretty thickly populated, it reminds me of an ant-hill. I - wonder how such houses stand the rains. The people are not - very dark, and they seem to be very friendly. It is not from - rudeness that they crowd about one, and examine one’s dress. - - ‘It would have amused you to have seen Margaret and me - perambulating the village, going through its muddy lanes; - sometimes so narrow that one could have touched the walls on - either hand,--or nearly so. Do not suppose that we walked - alone. We had wished to take a quiet stroll together, but this - was out of the question. We carried a train with us; and when - we had entered a tiny court, inhabited by four families, when - I raised my eyes I saw a set of spectators perched on the - wall above, like so many sparrows, gazing down on the English - ladies. One had not in the least the feeling of being amongst - enemies,--only once or twice I saw a man look sternly at us. - I concluded that these men were Muhammadans, of whom there - are, I believe, a few in this village. The Sikhs seem to be - a good-humoured, friendly set, who have not the slightest - objection to our speaking as much about our religion as we - like. Some of the people here--like the Pandit[41]--know Urdu, - but by no means all of them. - - ‘But, Laura, you who have an eye for the picturesque, and a - soul for the romantic, you should have had a glimpse of us - yesterday in the Pandit’s house, at evening prayer! The long - mud-built room looked strange enough by day; but at night seen - by the gleam of one lamp, it looked--like the entrance to a - cave or a catacomb. - - ‘There sat the Pandit on his large mat, and at a little - distance his wife on a very small one, the dull lamp throwing - their black shadows on the mud wall behind them. A black - buffalo calf was at one end of the apartment; but the place was - too dark for us to see much of it. The Pandit bending over his - book was a study for an artist, with his white turban and his - extraordinary spectacles. I was asked to choose the chapter; - I chose Romans xii. The Pandit had such difficulty in finding - the place, that it seemed evident that he is not familiar with - the Epistles. But he must have been pleased with the chapter, - when he did find it; for he not only read it, but the one which - followed it. Then came a long Sanscrit prayer.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_March 7._--One of the things most admired has been a prism, - which I have as a letter-weight. The splendid colours which - through it an Indian sun casts on the walls excite much - admiration and pleasure. My little Ayah to-day asked me what - my Zouave had cost. I should hardly call her _my_ Ayah, as, - luckily for me, I have only one-third part of the little woman. - To have a whole Ayah would be too much of a good thing. - - ‘I took your _Illustrated_ yesterday to show to the - Mother-in-law of the German Missionary.... I tried as I walked to - the house to get up a little German; but, O Laura, the Urdu had - driven it almost all out of my head. If I wished to call up a - German word, up would come an Urdu one! I did indeed remember - “wunderbar,” and “shrecklich,” so that helped me with the - _Illustrated_, but they would not have been very useful in a - lengthy conversation. - - ‘If I had had time to write yesterday, I might have given - you such an interesting account of the Panjabi Munshi, which - I heard from Mr. H. This Munshi, I forget his name, is the - son of one of the four priests of the Golden Temple, and a - man of character, some talent, and influence. Mr. H., who is - translating some of the Bible into Panjabi, wanted ----‘s - assistance. The Munshi courteously declined, as he feared - that the Bible would be contrary to the “Granth,” the Sikh - Scriptures. These Scriptures, so far as they go, Mr. H. says, - are not bad at all; and true Sikhs detest idolatry. “Well,” - says Mr. H., “both you and I worship the Great God. We will - make a bargain. If in the Bible we meet with anything against - the Great God, we will close the book at once.” The Munshi - instantly closed with the offer; and the result is that at last - he has told Mr. H. that there is no book in the world like the - Bible. When the Munshi’s sister lay dying, he nursed her night - and day, and used to carry to her what he had been reading with - Mr. H. - - ‘The Munshi’s father, the priest, seemed to have had rather a - natural fear of his son’s imbibing what he would consider wrong - doctrine. He therefore, with two friends, made the Munshi read - over to them what he had been busy about with the Christian - Sahib. After a while the priest observed, “At first I listened - as a critic; now I listen with interest.” - - ‘What an honest, conscientious man the Munshi is, was shown by - his conduct to a rich tradesman in the city. This rich man paid - the Munshi to come and read the “Granth” to him,--I suppose - for amusement, as he himself is a Hindu and idolater. When - ---- came to read, he saw an idol in front of the Hindu, and - the Sikh positively refused to open the “Granth”--his sacred - book--in presence of the idol. “Why,” says the Hindu, “you - worship the picture of your saint, so you need not object to - my image.” But ---- positively denied that he worshipped the - picture. “Bring one here,” he said; “and in the presence of - witnesses, I will tear it in pieces. Will you do the same with - your idol?”’ - -The following letter to one of her aunts, dated May 8, 1876, refers to -the above expedition:-- - - ‘I see you have an impression that we Missionary ladies dress - oddly, behave strangely, and undergo all kinds of hardships. - You think that I slept on the ground when I went to O----. Not - a bit of it! Margaret and I took beds with us, and a table and - seats and cooking utensils, and a stock of provisions--and - _Common sense_!!! We were never the worse for our adventure. - The Missionaries scold each other more for imprudence about - health than any other thing, and I am the scold of the party, - so that as I preach I must practise. - - ‘_2ndly._ As regards dress, I consider that we dress rather - prettily than otherwise. Of course in England it would look - funny to see a lady of my age all in white, with a topi and - pugri and white parasol; but it does not look funny in India. - Why, the very soldiers look like figures in plaster of Paris. - As for the natives thinking us “Chinese,” there is no fear - of their doing that. I believe that we Missionaries are much - respected; we are treated with courtesy; and one of us may walk - alone through crowds of hundreds of natives, and never have a - disrespectful word.... - - ‘Then you so kindly take a little anxiety about my health; but - I do not know that I was ever better in my life. I fancy that - I am even a trifle fatter. Thank God, I have not had a touch - of fever or headache yet; and though my pankah has been up - for days, I have not cared to have it worked. Of course the - greatest heat is to come; ... but heat, except of course exposure - to the sun, does not seem to injure me; and I am more afraid of - December cold than of July heat.’ - -In April she went to Lahore for a visit, as companion to a Missionary, -left alone. Writing from there, she observes: ‘Visits to Missionary -stations are a part of my education; and one which Dr. Murdoch strongly -recommended for me. He would have me running about the country; but -really I am too old to be a comet like my nephew.’[42] And again, -speaking of a walk through the narrow streets of Lahore: ‘Presently -we met a cart drawn by buffaloes, which filled up the greater part of -the width of the road,--of course one does not expect pavements for -foot-passengers. Miss H. was a bit frightened, and seemed to think that -the big ugly creatures would leave us no room to pass; but I could see -that there was plenty of room, if we went single file. And as for being -afraid of a stolid buffalo, that looks as if it never would dream of -goring any one, even if its horns were not so set on that it _could_ not -do such a thing, there would be small excuse for that. Why, Margaret -one day, when she was in Cashmere, saw a big black bear only a few -yards from her, with just a little icy stream between, and she was not -terrified. One bear would be equal to a hundred black buffaloes. I am -rather struck by the amount of _dash_ amongst Missionaries! Miss ---- -is perhaps an exception, but then hers is merely school-work. I think -that Margaret is a gallant lady, and that Emily[43] would be true as -steel. As for some of the gentlemen, I feel sure that there is plenty -of real heroism in them.’ In almost her next letter she says of one of -these Missionaries: ‘I do hope that your cheque may make my nephew take -a _little_ more care of his health. He is so careful of Mission money, -that he almost provokes us by travelling in ways likely to make him ill. -I believe that he has seriously injured himself by economising in his -own comforts. He ought not to be knocked about, for he is very fragile -indeed.’ - - ‘_April 20._--The weather is gradually getting warmer. The - thermometer in my verandah to-day, where it had been in the - shade all the day, was about 107°, that is more than twenty - degrees hotter than I have ever seen it in the most sultry day - in England. But do not suppose that I mind the heat, or that - it has hitherto done me the slightest harm. Thank God, I am in - perfect health, not in the slightest degree feverish. I charmed - Margaret at dinner to-day. “You are better in the hot weather - than the cold,” she cried. “I never knew you ask for a second - help in the cold weather.” And the two poor dear girls opposite - me sat with plates sadly clean; neither of them would touch a - bit of meat.... Of course we shall have the weather a good deal - hotter presently, but then pankahs will be up.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_May 8._--There is a little romance going on here. A little - native maiden was betrothed to a native lad. Before the - marriage came off, the destined bridegroom and his parents - became Christians. The girl’s parents wanted to break off the - match, and unite the girl to a heathen. But _her_ heart was set - on her young bridegroom. The case came before court,--Emily - thinks about a year ago. It was adjudged that the maiden was - too young to fix her own fate. But she is old enough now, - and she has kept true to her lover. The final decision must - be made in twenty-one days. The young girl--she looks such a - child--wants, I hear, to become a Christian. Emily fain would - ascertain whether she does so from love of religion, or only - from love for her boy. I hope to be at her baptism,--and her - wedding too, if all be well.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_May 29._--I have done so few lessons to-day, I had better - set to them bravely. I have written out, large and black, so - that I may easily read in dim light, more than 1300 words, to - go over regularly every fortnight, masculine separated from - feminine nouns. I know others that I have not written down. - But, Laura dear, all these words--rather a tax on an old lady’s - memory--take one on but a small way in speaking this difficult - language.’ - -Early in June she yielded very reluctantly to Mrs. Elmslie’s pressure, -and consented to go for a short time to Dalhousie; and the letter -following was written at an inn on the way:-- - - ‘DÂK BUNGALOW, _June 13, 1876_. - - ‘I have been giving dear Leila an account of the first part of - my journey; now I will go on with you. I slept a good deal in - the gari. I dreamed that I was talking with you about Margaret.... - - ‘Well, I reached the dâk bungalow (kind of inn) early in the - morning, took early breakfast, and started in my duli (kind of - palanquin) at about 6.15. I wanted to start earlier, knowing - that I had a nineteen miles stage before me, and that the - day would probably be hot. I had nine men to carry me and my - luggage. They made little of it, but went at the rate of nearly - four miles an hour, including brief stoppages. Three times the - poor fellows asked for leave to stop and drink water. This - of course I granted. Twice I was asked for bakhshish; but I - declined giving any until I should arrive, and then if they - carried me nicely I promised them something. - - ‘They did carry me very nicely. When they had gone about ten - miles, and might be supposed to have grown pretty tired, then - they began to be lively, laughing and chatting together, I - suppose to beguile the way. It would be well if we took life’s - journey as patiently and cheerfully as these poor half-clad - mountaineers. _Note inserted._ Oh, doubtless it was a relay!... - - ‘The thunder has been grumbling. Perhaps I may take a little - walk before I start on my long night expedition. This seems to - be a lovely place, but of course I shall not walk in the heat - of the day.... - - ‘It is indeed a miracle how a mere handful of Englishmen rule - such a country as this. Since I left Amritsar I have seen but - one English face, and that was the face of some one lying full - length in a duli which I passed. He was very likely ill. Yet - one feels oneself under a _very strong_ wing of the law,--far - more so than one does in England. There have I been travelling - with a band of natives to whom threepence is a good present - ... my language, my religion, are strange, and yet I neither - receive nor fear the slightest disrespect. Is not this like a - miracle? - - ‘Thunder again! If I have a storm to-night in the mountains, - how sublime it will look!’ - -But though she enjoyed her time in the mountains, she was eager to return -to work; and even from Dalhousie her letters contain chiefly details of -what was being done, there or at Amritsar, in her absence. On the 18th of -July she was on the road; and again she wrote from an inn:-- - - ‘I have bidden farewell to Dalhousie. The skies were weeping - violently when I started; so was not I!... Dalhousie is grandly - beautiful; but I have been asking myself why I have not been - in raptures with its beauties. I think that two things are - wanting to its perfection;--first, the soft blue haze which - one connects with distant mountains. High and hard, some - snow-crowned peak cuts the sky. You are told that it is a - hundred miles off. You don’t believe it! It is as clear and - sharp as if only two. Then water is a very great want, at - least to me. Certainly, there is the Ravi, one of the five - famous rivers of the Panjab; but at Dalhousie it looks, at - least in June, first cousin to a swamp. One wants waterfalls. - One-hundredth part--one-thousandth part--of Niagara, glorious - Niagara, would be a boon at Dalhousie.... - - ‘It is a curious thing, dear Laura, that kind of _instinct_ - which one acquires in India! I have often and often thought - on the subject. One feels as if one belonged to such a lordly - race. It is that odd kind of impression upon one that, though - one may _personally_ be weak as water, one forms a part of a - mysterious power. There is a kind of instinctive persuasion - that neither man nor beast would dare to attack one,--except - perhaps a vicious horse. One travels by night, without the - slightest protection, surrounded by half-clad, ignorant - semi-savages; one never dreams of fearing them. One takes one’s - early walk in a lonely place, where the cheetah or snake may - lurk, without the smallest alarm. They would not surely attack - one of the English!...’ - - - - -CHAPTER III - -A.D. 1876 - -CURIOUS WAYS - - -More than half of Charlotte Tucker’s first year in India was now over; -and still no thought of work for herself in Batala had arisen. She knew -about Batala, and was interested in the place, no doubt, as in all other -outlying parts where Missionary work had been even fitfully attempted. -But Amritsar was thus far her home; and there she expected to remain. -She continued to study hard and perseveringly, in preparation for fuller -work, often lamenting her own slowness in learning to speak; and already -she was making herself known and beloved by a few Indians,--either -Christian, or disposed towards Christianity. - -After her return from Dalhousie she wrote in joyous strains: ‘Here I am -at dear Amritsar again, which I much prefer to the abode amongst the -clouds.’ There was some idea that she might have to go all the way back -to Dalhousie, to nurse a sick Missionary there; and she was perfectly -willing to do so, without hesitation on the score of fatigue, without -a thought of the long, troublesome journey. No one else could be so -well spared at that period from Amritsar as herself; and this she fully -realised. ‘If however dear Florrie rallies nicely,’ she wrote, ‘I have -not the slightest intention of going to cloudland again. Pankah-land -suits my taste better.’ Happily, it was not necessary for her to go. - -It was in the spring or summer of this year that she began to name her -various new friends after certain jewels, according to her estimate of -their respective gifts and characters. She possessed, in imagination, a -jewelled bracelet, representing the different Missionary gentlemen of -her acquaintance,--Diamond, Opal, Amethyst, etc. A companion bracelet -was supposed to represent the Missionary ladies,--consisting of Diamond, -Sardonix, Onyx, etc. Also she had in mind ‘an extraordinary necklace, -Oriental pattern, formed of Native friends,’--those Indian Christians, -whom she had begun to know and to love, many of whom repaid her love, and -did not disappoint her trust in the coming years. - -A little later, in the letter describing this favourite idea, she adds: -‘Now we come to my yellow girdle, studded with gems. This is composed of -dear ones in Old England; my own Laura being the Pearl nearest the heart.’ - -A more prosaic and less romantic nature can perhaps hardly understand, -much less sympathise with, the delight afforded to her curiously -symbol-loving mind by this manner of regarding those whom she loved. - -In July a letter speaks of ‘seeing more of the lights and shadows of -Missionary life’ than before. A certain young Muhammadan, in whom they -were greatly interested, after long inquiry and hesitation, at length -made up his mind to come boldly forward, and to be baptized. Arrangements -were made for his Baptism in the Church by a Native clergyman; the matter -being kept as quiet as possible, for avoidance of the opposition which -was sure to arise. Miss Tucker was told only on the morning of the day -what was about to happen; and great was her delight, as well as her fear -that some hindrance might intervene. - -‘I had a kind of intuitive feeling,’ she said, ‘that something might come -to prevent the Convert from openly confessing his Lord. I knew not how -great the danger was.’ - -One hour remained before the time fixed for the Baptism, when the young -man--Babu G. he may be called--came in, troubled and pale. His Mother had -somehow divined his intention, and was doing her utmost to prevent its -being carried out. She flung a brick at the head of one Christian Native, -who had had a hand in influencing the young Muhammadan; she raved and -beat her breast; she cursed and tore her hair; she declared to her son -that if he became a Christian she would die. - -Babu G. believed all this, and was sorely shaken. His Mother was brought -to the Mission-house, and a vehement scene followed. The old lady sat -upon the ground, pouring out threats and curses, beating her breast and -tearing her hair anew,--only, as A. L. O. E. somewhat drily observed -afterwards, she very cleverly avoided hurting herself by her blows, and -none of her hair seemed to come out with all the apparent ‘tearing.’ -But the young man could hardly be expected to see this as a stranger -would! He wavered--hesitated--and at last gave way. The Baptism did not -take place; and the unhappy young fellow, convinced of the truth of -Christianity, willing in heart to be a servant of Christ, had not courage -to take his own decision, but remained a Muhammadan. Bitter tears were -shed over his defection by gentle Mrs. Elmslie; the first that Miss -Tucker had ever seen her shed. - -Such stories as this show conclusively that _the_ work which most of -all needs to be done in India is to transform the Mothers,--to educate -a generation of Christian Mothers. Their sons then will be Christian -too. No power in the world surpasses that of a mother over her children, -whether she be English or Hindu or Muhammadan. - -Charlotte Tucker’s stern side seems to have come out in this stormy -interview with the furious old lady. ‘Are you not _afraid_,’ she -demanded, ‘that God’s anger is on you? You have been your son’s enemy. -When affliction comes, remember,--_remember_,--REMEMBER!’ - -Side by side, however, with this great disappointment, were other more -hopeful aspects of the work. Light and shade naturally go together. A few -days later she wrote:-- - - ‘The mother still holds her unhappy son in bonds, and forbids - him even to breathe the air of our compound.... But even about - her we need not despair. I was reading the Gospel to-day with - the sweetest-looking elderly woman that I have seen in India. - All beauty generally departs with youth, but this woman is - really attractive still. She was in bitter grief at the baptism - of her eldest son; when the next was baptized she blessed him; - and now she is quite ready for baptism herself. Such a sweet - expression came over her face yesterday when I reminded her of - her former grief and her present joy!’ - -On August 8th she wrote:-- - - ‘The old Chaukidar[44] made us laugh the other evening by his - earnest, emphatic warning against our ladies driving out at - night. He uses sometimes almost frantic gesticulations. He told - us that there is danger of meeting at night a dreadful being, - in appearance somewhat like Mr. H.--a tall, fair, blue-eyed - handsome young friend of ours!--whose object is to _cut off - English heads_. I have heard of a similar superstition in the - Hills; but there I fancy that Native heads, not English, were - in requisition. You can imagine from this what a funny fellow - the old Chaukidar is; but we look on him as true as steel. - One day Mrs. E. found him most good-naturedly pulling Iman’s - pankah for him. She was so much pleased that she gave him four - pomegranates. The old fellow was delighted, and at once gave - three of them away, keeping only one for himself. His friend, - our half-blind Iman, was one to benefit by his generosity.’ - -The name ‘Iman,’ meaning ‘Faith,’ was bestowed by Miss Tucker upon a poor -pankah-wala, whose affectionate disposition made a strong impression -upon her. The poor fellow, although half-blind, volunteered one day to -walk the whole twenty-four miles to Batala and back in three days, to -carry medicine to a sick woman there,--the wife of the young Muhammadan, -Babu G., above mentioned. Iman himself was, to say the least, disposed to -be a Christian. These little side facts all serve to show the manner of -influence which was acting gradually in all directions. - -In another letter, belonging to August, are the words: ‘We are rather -on the tiptoe of expectation about our Bishop that is to be. There is a -rumour that good Mr. ---- is the man; but surely it is impossible that -such a shy, boy-like Missionary should be turned into a Right Reverend -Father!’ The appointment when made proved to be that of Bishop French, -well known in Mutiny days as Mr. French of Agra, who utterly refused to -allow the Christian Natives to be banished from the town, as was proposed -by some faint-hearted people there. If they went, Mr. French said, he -would go with them; and he undertook to answer for their faithfulness. -His resolution prevailed; and the little band of Indian Christians were -faithful to the end of the Siege. - -About this time a change took place, which A. L. O. E. ‘quite approved,’ -but which she did not ‘like.’ Mrs. Elmslie left the Mission Bungalow, -to live at the neighbouring Orphan House, taking charge of the orphans. -A superintendent under her had hitherto done the work, but had proved -inefficient; and the new plan was not only better in itself, but promised -to save money--always a prime consideration where Missionary funds have -to be considered. - -On August 23rd comes a letter of some importance, respecting the kind of -Missionaries wanted out there. This subject will recur from time to time -in the course of the correspondence; but even at so early a stage as -this Miss Tucker seems to have clearly grasped what was and what was not -required. - - ‘It is very kind in you to send me the _Illustrated_. After - it has been seen here, and at the Orphanage, and by the dear, - good Germans, off it starts for Dalhousie, and Florrie probably - makes it over to the soldiers after she has done with it; so - you see that you benefit many by your kindness. - - ‘I do not think that my Margaret at all enjoys being away from - us in the schoolhouse, though she keeps bright and brave. “The - Mother is as home-sick as can be,” was the description given - by one of our ladies, this house being the “home” meant. Of - course, we go over and pet her, and get her here when we can. - I hear that her room was leaking so last night; that must be - looked to at once. But rooms had a fair excuse for leaking; we - had such a storm!... - - ‘It was amusing when Emily, Ada, and I were talking over our - youth the other day. Dashing, energetic games had been the - delight of my companions; and I begin to imagine that cricket, - rounders, and bolstering form no bad preparation for Missionary - life. Dash and energy and physical strength are very desirable. - We want ladies who fear nothing, grumble at nothing, and are - ready to carry the Holy War into the enemy’s camp. One of - Emily’s many advantages is that she is a fearless rider. I am - rather alarmed at hearing that an extremely delicate lady is - coming out to us. We want hearty, strong ladies, not sickly - ones. The Missionaries are too short of hands to be able to - undertake much sick-nursing. If I were to require to be nursed - at night--which, thank God, I have not done--I should feel - inclined to run off somewhere or other, so as not to tax the - strength of my nieces.’ - -Only two days later we have mention of the first Baptism in Batala, her -future home during so many years. She writes: ‘A deeply interesting event -took place yesterday at Batala; the baptism of a Brahmin, a man in a -very influential position, and in Government employ. Dear Sadiq[45] and -I believe other Christians went to Batala on Wednesday for the Baptism, -which was to be as public as possible--in a tank.’ This was written -August 25; and on the 29th she gave more particulars. - - ‘The jackals treated us to their varied music last night; but - one does not mind them a bit, for they never seem to attack - people, or intrude into houses. I wish that they would teach - their good manners to the sparrows. The cheetah also is a - modest creature. There was an account very lately of a cheetah - going into a verandah at Dalhousie; nothing between it and the - interior of the house but a chick blind; but it was too polite - to intrude. It would be rather exciting to look at a cheetah - through a chick blind; you can see through it quite well, as - the light is outside. - - ‘But, O Laura, I ought not to waste my space on cheetahs or - jackals, when I can write of things so _much_ more interesting. - I had such an interesting account of the Baptism of B--n, - the Brahmin at Batala, from Mr. Beutel,[46] supplemented by - one from Sadiq. They were both present.... Mr. Beutel observed - that he (B--n) had had to go through more than many do in - a campaign. Why, except the Catechist and his wife, he is - the only Christian that we know of in that fierce, bigoted - Batala. As the Muhammadans did not know of the time fixed for - the baptism, at the beginning of the Service by the tank not - many people gathered; but seeing that something was going on, - gradually a crowd collected. At last the crowd grew large--and - excited also--and the police authority had to be called in for - protection. - - ‘Perhaps the worst of all was the Christian’s reception at his - home; his wife came with her three little ones to meet him, - beating her breast, etc. Sadiq had intended to carry B--n back - to Amritsar with him, to let the first fury of the storm blow - over; but poor B--n preferred remaining at Batala, because if - he left his wife, he did not know what she might do with his - children. So there the brave fellow remains. We ought to pray - earnestly for this our brother.’ - -In a letter to her niece, Mrs. Boswell, on September 1st, Charlotte -Tucker spoke of herself as ‘heart-sick with anxiety’ about the convert, -regretting much that he had not come to Amritsar. - - ‘Would that he could have carried wife and children off with - him! but I suppose that this was impossible, against the - woman’s will. Dear Sadiq soon went again to Batala;--alas! - he was not suffered to see the convert, who is surrounded by - enemies, and seems to be quite in their power. B--n’s wife, - after starving herself for three days from grief at his - baptism, has died, it is said from an attack of cholera. - - ‘Our fear is that the heathen are starving B--n and his three - children to death! One poor lamb is but a few months old. - If I were a man, I would be off to Batala. My friend Mr. H. - has written a strong note to an English official at no great - distance from Batala,--there _not one_ Englishman resides,--and - I feel little doubt that he will bring the strong arm of the - law to protect B--n. But the note will not reach till this - evening. For eight days B--n will have been in the fiery - furnace. How long can he hold out?’ - -Reports, happily false, of the retractation of the convert came to -distress them at Amritsar; and Mr. Beutel, leaving his wife and mother -dangerously ill, went over to Batala to inquire how matters stood. He -found B--n, though much tried and sorely pressed, still standing firm. - -It is melancholy to read of Charlotte Tucker’s eager delight in carrying -the good news to her favourite Maulvi Z.,--of whom at that time she -thought so well and hopefully as an established Christian, and who in -later years was to grieve her most bitterly by himself becoming an -apostate. - -Letters at this time show her steadily growing interest in Batala, her -ever-increasing desire for systematic work there. - - ‘_Sept. 14, 1876._--I have been delaying writing till I could - give you news from Batala,--that place towards which Missionary - eyes longingly turn, as those of the Germans did towards - Strasburg. May Batala be given to us, as Strasburg was to them.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Sept. 20._--As regards my little Indian tales, I have sent a - good many to Nelson, who has accepted them; and consequently I - suppose intends to publish them. It is very likely that they - have been appearing in the _Family Treasury_.... Sadiq had - just come from Batala, where he had seen B--n. Dear Sadiq! I - think that he must have gone altogether seven or eight times - to Batala. He is a friend worth having. B--n expressed his - willingness to bring his little girls to Amritsar; but his baby - was so very, very ill, that he feared she could not be moved.... - The little lamb appeared to be sinking fast. My surprise is - how she has been kept alive so long. The last account was that - the baby was “not fit to be picked off the charpai”;[47] she - seemed dying. Dear little martyred innocent,--dying because her - father gave himself to Christ! B--n intends to bring his two - elder children; but of course nothing can be done while baby is - dying.... - - ‘O Laura, I feel as if these two deaths in Batala marked the - place as _our own_. So much cannot have been suffered in vain.’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - _‘Sept. 26, 1876._ - - ‘Those rogues of sparrows have fairly driven me out of my room - this morning. They make such a chatter. I intend to request - Mr. H. benevolently to shoot a few; just to show the rest that - really they must not expect to be allowed to build, and gossip, - and make themselves disagreeable in every possible way in the - room of a Buzurg Miss Sahiba.... - - ‘It is much cooler. These two last nights I have needed - no pankah, and was able to bear a blanket. I have resumed - wearing a merino vest by day, and it is very comfortable. The - darzi,[48] who squats in the verandah, is busy on a magnificent - dressing-gown, which I have ordered. I brought out flannel from - England, but not a flannel dressing-gown, so I have bought a - rich shawl-pattern, and the flannel will line it, and I shall - look like a Maliká[49] and feel--almost as comfortable as a - sparrow.... It seemed to be a question with the darzi whether the - white flannel was to be inside or outside! The matter appeared - to interest some of the servants. One lives in such a public - way in India. Whatever one gives to be made or mended is made - or mended in the verandah; and the darzi, as he cuts out, - clips, and sews, talks--perhaps with the pankah-wala, perhaps a - stranger, perhaps the munshi (tutor) whose pupil is not quite - ready to take her lesson.... There is no shutting the world out; - and the Indian world is such a curious world. - - ‘Then people’s characters are so public; no one seems to think - it worth while to wear thick cloaks over them. Everybody seems - to know about everybody else. The very public papers seem - personal. ... O yes, India is a very curious place,--people - curious,--ways curious,--insects curious,--dress curious, etc. - The very Anglo-Saxon character appears in a new and curious - aspect. India is a place to develop an instinct to command, - and to carry things with a high hand. Weakness does almost as - much harm as wickedness. But I feel myself too old to learn the - zabardast[50] way of going on. I am not fitted to grasp reins - of government, and drive a team of twenty-two Indian servants, - syces, pankah-walas, bearer, khitmatgar, ayah, etc., see that - the horses are not cheated of grain, that pankah-walas pull, - that kahars don’t take French leave, etc. etc. I hope that - Florrie[51] will hold the reins, if she and I go off together.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Oct. 5._--We had a visit from our good Pastor Sadiq - yesterday. I was the one to receive him. You know that I am - not strong in the language yet. I knew that Sadiq was speaking - about sickness, castor-oil, and quinine, and people going - about to look after the sufferers; but I could not get at his - full meaning; and as he was clearly on business, I thought - it better to call in C. to my aid. It was well that I did! - Sadiq’s heart was full of Batala--our Strasburg--where people - are dying of fever, faster than even in Amritsar. Sadiq wanted - a subscription to be made instanter to send off quinine and - castor-oil. The Christian lawyer, R., would go on to-day or - to-morrow, and Sadiq himself would follow on Monday. Talk of - languid, apathetic Hindus! Sadiq, when he takes a thing into - his head, goes at it like a battering-ram.... - - ‘To-day I had what seemed to poor me a long _tête-à-tête_ with - the Pandit from O----, that village which you will remember I - visited with Margaret. O dear! it was a bit of a mental effort. - He is a learned man! I longed for C. to come to my rescue, but - battled with verbs and genders as well as I could. - - ‘I was determined to do the polite, so I boldly asked the - Pandit to stay to dinner. I could do so, as, oddly enough, I - am now the senior Missionary at Amritsar,[52] though I feel - such a child in the language. Rather to my surprise, the Pandit - accepted my invitation at once. He would not eat with us when - he was here before, nor when at O----, for he is a curious - half-and-half sort of Christian,[53] leading such a lonely life - amongst heathen. The Pandit shared our meal, but only took - vegetables and bread-and-butter. - - ‘Do you not laugh at the notion of poor Char, sitting at the - head of a table, and entertaining a Pandit, and feeling her - ignorance, and plunging about in a bog of Urdu? I did not, - however, attempt to talk much after C. came in, as she has been - nearly four years in India, and speaks the language well.’ - -When the next letter was written, on October 14, the Batala plan was -under discussion. Padri Sadiq seems to have first suggested the idea that -Miss Tucker should proceed thither with Miss Swainson, and open a Mission -in the place. Miss Tucker does not appear to have at first viewed the -scheme with any great enthusiasm. - - ‘Such a merry breakfast we had this morning! Our three dear - ladies, Margaret, Emily, and Florrie, arrived at about 9 A.M. - after nine hours of raft,--very tiring, for it involved much - walking, and it was raining away,--and twelve of dâk-gari. - Margaret looked young and lovely; Florrie much improved.... She - is delighted with the Batala scheme; but Margaret tells me - that it cannot be carried out till December at earliest, and - I have my doubts about its being carried out at all. At any - rate, the difficulties will not have come from _me_. I am quite - willing to go; but of course a new station would involve the - Committee in expenses, and it is not easy to procure a suitable - house, etc., so it is likely enough that Sadiq’s plan will be - disapproved of in high quarters. I quietly wait to see what - direction is taken by “the fiery, cloudy pillar.” ... - - ‘Last night I had to chaperon to our noisy, bustling station - after dark a young Missionary, who looks to me quite unfledged. - There I met the school-teacher, Miss ----, with her young - sister, yet more unfledged, bound on the same errand.... I - think that the stations at Indian cities are more noisy and - bustling than the worst London ones. It almost shocks my sense - of propriety, young girls travelling at night,--it is funny - even to an old lady, hurrying up and down a bustling platform - amongst Natives. I think that I managed pretty well for _my_ - charge, for I got her into a carriage with a lady and children, - so she was safe enough; she was not to cross the Sutlej till - daylight. Poor little Miss ---- was put by her sister into - an empty carriage; but who knows whether some drunken, low - European may not have got into it at the next station? And the - poor, simple little thing was to cross the Sutlej at midnight, - with her baggage to look after!!! We would hardly do such - things in England. I have slept a night here, _with not a soul - in the house but myself_, and the house seems so strangely - open; but I was not a bit afraid.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Oct. 20, 1876._--When this reaches you, perhaps you will be - feeling the first pinch of winter. We do not escape it here in - our bright, glowing Panjab. I cherish a fond hope that if we - go to Batala, we shall find it warmer than Amritsar.... Emily, - Florrie, and Sadiq have gone off to-day on a house-hunting - expedition to Batala. It is considered a very healthy place; - except, of course, at present--an exceptional season. If I go, - I do not expect to have much to do at first except learn the - language. I leave school-work to Florrie; she is well up to it; - and I hear that Zenanas are likely to be very slow in opening.... - - ‘My Munshi ... asked me to give him leave of absence on the next - day, or that following it, as it would be the Muhammadans’ - _great day_. He could not tell me which of the two days it - would be, because all would depend on the moon. If the moon - were seen on the night after the 18th, then the 19th would be - the feast day, the end of the long Muhammadan fast. If the - moon were not seen, the poor people must wait till the 20th. - “Suppose,” said I, “that the people at Lahore see the moon, - and that those at Amritsar do not, will the Lahore folk have a - feast and you a fast?” A. answered in the affirmative.... - - ‘I talked with A. a little about the fasting. He told me with - gusto that he had once gone to the house of a Muhammadan - friend, who happened to have a little hole in his door, on one - of the days of the fast. A., the old rogue, peeped through the - hole, and detected his friend in the act of eating. A. then - knocked at the door. His friend--it made me think of Friar - Tuck!--popped the food into a box, wiped his mouth, and was - ready to receive his visitor. “What were you doing?” asked A. - “Reading,” was the reply. Then A. opened the box, and showed - the discomfited hypocrite the food, and--according to his own - account--gave the man a lecture. I have my doubts about the - latter part of the story--I mean the lecture.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Oct. 26._--Our poor city has been bearing some - resemblance to a hospital. Some think that not one of her - inhabitants--120,000--has altogether escaped the fever, and - many have died; but I am thankful to write that the sickness - is on the decrease.... I cannot, however, go to dear Louis, for - the Beutels, who have been very ill, are going to Ludhiana; - and their mother, too ill to be moved, must have some one to - look after her a little during their absence. I am the only - lady available, being well, and with no pressure of work. I am - almost astonished at having been so exempted from suffering, - when thousands and thousands have been so ill. I have not spent - a day in bed ... since leaving England. It is a cause for much - thankfulness. Of course I had a little fever, but it has left - no dregs. The weather is so nice, that one hardly understands - why any one should be ill.... - - ‘The Batala plan is rather hanging fire at present. Day after - day passes, and no reply is received to the letter asking - permission for us to occupy apartments in the palace. No other - place in or near Batala seems to be available. Even in the - palace considerable alterations would be needed, to make the - rooms at all suitable for English ladies.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Nov. 16._--Sadiq does not quite approve of our selection of - a house. He would have liked one right in the city; but it is - far pleasanter to us to be a little out of it.... I asked him - if he had any news of B--n. Sadiq told me that he had seen - him at Batala, the beginning of last week. Our brave Brahmin - convert had been very ill, and had written--or caused to be - written--a paper stating that he wished his body to be buried - by Christians, his children brought up by Christians, and his - property taken care of by the Mission. I am thankful to say - that B--n did not die; but as Sadiq said, he has had affliction - upon affliction.... In a few months this convert has lost wife, - babe, and only brother. Sadiq said that B--n’s regret about the - babe was that it had not been baptized. But when I remarked - that I thought the babe had been a kind of martyr, like the - little ones killed by Herod, Sadiq looked pleased.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Dec. 1._--I suppose that my next letter will be addressed to - you from my new home in Batala. My nieces are very anxious to - make arrangements for my comfort. I am not to have the trouble - of helping to put the new house into order. Two ladies go - before to make everything nice.... - - ‘I went to dear S. Begum to-day,--the one who was lately - baptized with her young daughter,--to speak to her about Holy - Communion. I am glad that I shall have the First Sunday in - Advent in Amritsar. It will seem strange to reside in a place - where there is no church! I suppose that we shall go over to - the Catechist’s house, and have Urdu service there.... - - ‘It was very interesting to hear Mr. Wade’s account of the - opening of a little church in the village of G. The peculiar - and very interesting feature of the affair is that in this - Rajput village a little flock has been gathered just by - _Native_ agency. And the way for the Native evangelist, the - excellent C., was wondrously prepared. - - ‘In old Runjit’s time a kind of Native prophet declared that - our Lord was greater than all others. This Pandit was succeeded - by another, who declared that all the people would become the - Lord’s followers. They who came first would receive _honour_; - they who came next, a mere _subsistence_; they who came last - would be _driven_ in! Then a third teacher arose--the present - one. He said that a shepherd pushes one sheep after another - into the fold, and when all are in follows himself; and that - so _he_ would get the people into the Christian fold, and then - follow them. - - ‘It seems to us a most extraordinary way of evangelising; but - when the Rev. C. came to the village, he found that these - strange teachers had really ploughed up the ground to receive - the good seed; and the third teacher _has_ come himself into - the fold with four of his relatives. His wife still holds out. - - ‘The opening of the tiny church was a delightful scene. There - are only 14 or 15 baptized Christians; but the people, men and - women, flocked in, till there was hardly room to sit on the - ground. In the thoroughly Oriental church there are no seats.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Dec. 4, 1876._--I have this morning read your loving - expostulation to Margaret and myself regarding Batala. - You think that your strong point is my unfitness for an - out-station. But, sweet one, you forget that I am so specially - fitted, by age, for the post, that if I were to draw back, the - whole promising plan might fall to the ground. The Natives - reverence grey hairs; and I dare say that some of them will pet - me. As for the language, I manage to get on after a fashion, - and smiles go a good way. - - ‘I assure you that I have never felt my heart lighter than I - have done lately, fond as I am of those I leave. It seems as if - the way were so plain. If I were perfectly dumb, I should still - be useful as a chaperon. But I am not quite dumb. - - ‘I had such a golden First Sunday in Advent yesterday.... Fancy - the encouragement of seeing B--n, the one Christian convert - residing in Batala, and sharing the Cup with him in our dear - Amritsar Church. I shook hands with him after afternoon - service. I am sorry that when I uttered the two words, “Hamara - bhai,”[54] I should have said “Hamare,” instead of “Hamara.” It - was a pity that my first word should have been incorrect; but I - could not think of grammar at such a moment.... Then I have had - such an encouraging note from dear Emily, who is making things - straight for me at Batala....--Your happy - - CHAR.’ - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -A.D. 1876 - -A PALACE FOR A HOME - - -In December 1876 Charlotte Maria Tucker entered upon the final stage -of her earthly career. Final in a sense; for though more than once -Batala had to be temporarily deserted, the place was never given up. -Thenceforward, Batala became in very truth her home; Batala work was -essentially her work; and the remaining years of her life were devoted to -Batala. - -Having once made up her mind that she was definitely called to this -particular post, nothing could withhold her. Difficulties, oppositions, -hindrances, prospects of loneliness, imperfect knowledge of Indian -languages, increasing age,--all these were as nothing in the way. If she -was called, she would go! And Miss Tucker believed that she _was_ called. - -Others were not so sure. Mrs. Elmslie wrote on the 8th of December to -Mrs. Hamilton: ‘I agree with you that your beloved sister’s power lies -in gifts which can be used to perhaps greater influence here than in an -out-station. This isolation from European society is not what I should -have chosen for one who can exercise so much influence for good among -her own countrymen; and whose pen can do more for India than perhaps the -lives of many others.’ No doubt this view of the question weighed greatly -in the judgment of many. For one who can write books suitable to Indian -requirements, there are scores of Missionaries who can with ease learn -the Native languages, and who can visit and teach in Zenanas, perhaps far -more effectually than A.L.O.E. did. - -To lookers-on it may seem that she judged wrongly here; that her -eagerness for personal work was a mistake; that she might have done more -by following the advice of her friends, and remaining at Amritsar. Advice -she had; for Mrs. Elmslie says in the same letter: ‘We have one and all -of us tried to dissuade her from going; but she sees the Pillar going -straight on before her. And who are we that we should gainsay it?’ - -Suppose she only _fancied_ that she ‘saw the Pillar,’--in other words, -that she was called or led or ordered to Batala? A mistake of this -description is not impossible, especially in the case of an ardent -and impulsive nature. If so, it was the mistake of burning love and -self-devotion; and one can well believe that such a mistake must be -dearer to the Heart of our Lord than the correct attitude of those who -always decide on the safe and comfortable side. - -But why should we imagine it to have been a mistake? The true gist of -the matter is not, after all, to be found in the question as to which -particular type of work she might be best fitted for intellectually. The -main question was rather--to which especial work was she bidden by her -Master? One can hardly live many years on Earth, with observant eyes, -and believe that people are always or generally given exactly that work -to do, for which they are by natural powers best adapted. Things often -seem, indeed, just the other way; people being put to work for which they -appear to be least well adapted, and simply having to do their best. To -us it may seem that A.L.O.E.’s pen was worth more to India than all her -heroic struggles to conquer the languages and to teach in Zenanas. But -if, as with her whole heart she believed, God had called her to work -in Batala,--‘who are we,’ to say that she should have remained away? -The Commander-in-Chief of an army has a perfect right to place his -soldiers where he will; and so long as the soldier who is ordered to any -particular post hears the word of command, it matters very little whether -anybody else hears it also. - -Suppose A.L.O.E. had _not_ gone to Batala, but had taken the advice of -others, and had remained at Amritsar! Possibly she might, by devoting -herself to writing alone, have accomplished treble or quadruple the -number of little books and tracts for India which she did accomplish. -But then a very heroic example of courage and self-devotion would have -been lost to the Church. At Amritsar she would have had plenty of loving -friends, and would have been altogether more comfortable, altogether in -easier circumstances. Easy and comfortable examples, however, are not -rare. Even the writing of a good many more little books might not have -made up to us for what we should have lost in other respects. - -Besides,--she believed that she had her ‘marching orders.’ Even if, by -any possibility, she were mistaken in that belief, she could not disobey. -A soldier always instantly obeys what he _believes_ to be the order given. - -Yet it could have been no light matter,--this going forth alone, with -only one young companion, into a very fastness of Muhammadanism and -Heathenism. Miss Tucker herself was no longer young. Though marvellously -strong and spirited for her time of life, she was now in her fifty-sixth -year; hardly an age when, at the best, a woman is commonly willing to -undertake great responsibilities in a new and untried direction. It -was, however, true, as she said, that if she did not go, the Mission in -Batala could not be at once started--as a resident Mission. No two young -women could have gone there alone. They must have waited for a married -Missionary and his wife to head the effort. - -In this step of Miss Tucker’s a clue may perhaps be found for some lives, -here or there, where a vocation is earnestly sought and not yet found. -Why should not other middle-aged ladies go out, as she went out?--not -necessarily always to attempt full Zenana work; but to be protectors, -housekeepers, nurses, to younger and more active ladies? Whether it -would be right to use any portion of Mission-funds for such a purpose -may be doubted; and in many a case Mission _rooms_ could not be spared; -but there are exceptions as to the latter. And as to the money part of -the question, doubtless many a warm-hearted lady, over fifty years of -age, free from home-ties, with a spirit full of love and self-devotion, -could afford to spend £150 or £200 a year on such an object. Much might -be done by her to cheer up the workers, to leave them more free for all -that needed most to be done,--and indirectly she might help forward the -work of evangelisation by the mere force of a fair Christian example in -a dark land. There can be no question that Miss Tucker’s _life_ worked -far more effectually than her words. What she said may have been long -ago forgotten. What she was will never be forgotten. Her spoken words -doubtless had at the time some power; her written words perhaps had much -more; her life had by far the most of all. - -For any such line of life as is above suggested, however, only that type -of woman is fit which has been already described in some of A.L.O.E.’s -letters. Thin-skinned, anxious, feeble-spirited ladies, easily worried -and easily vexed, will not do; and angular, managing, argumentative -ladies would be quite as unsuitable. Those alone may venture who are -not only fairly strong in health, vigorous in spirit, fearless as to -difficulties, and careless as to discomforts, but who are also gentle, -kind-hearted, sympathetic, willing to yield to the judgment of others, -ready to please and not to rule. Almost above everything else, there -should be a freedom from grumbling tendencies. If _such_ elderly ladies -of England are willing to tread in A.L.O.E.’s footsteps, and to give the -Evenings of their lives to Mission-work, openings enough for them might -be found. - -The closing words of Mrs. Elmslie’s letter to Mrs. Hamilton on December -8, show what Miss Tucker’s presence in the Amritsar bungalow had been: ‘I -shall miss my darling Charlotte much. She has been sunshine to me ever -since she came; and I am accustomed to think of her as a very precious -gift from a loving Father Who knows our need. I hope to have her again -at Christmas. Please feel assured that we shall tenderly watch over your -dear one, even though not so closely together as formerly.’ Miss Wauton -also, speaking of that time, says: ‘Her general presence was a great -cheer to her fellow-workers there.’ - -Mention has been made of the Mission-tree,--a large banyan, in front -of the Amritsar bungalow, where Miss Tucker had now spent so many -months. The central trunk had received the name of Amritsar, and other -slender trunks around, already rooted, had received the names of -various out-stations, where occasional work had been begun, but where -no Missionaries yet resided. One slender shoot was called after Batala. -It had then just reached the ground, but was not firmly rooted. Now, in -1895, it is ‘a thick, substantial trunk.’ - -Batala, a walled town, about a mile across, has a population of some -25,000 people, and is twenty-four miles to the east of Amritsar. The -Dalhousie range of the mighty Himalayas lies about fifty miles off; -but the mountains, when snow-capped, look very much nearer. In those -days there was not, as there is now, a line of rail connecting Amritsar -with Batala. The journey from one to the other had commonly to be -accomplished, either by _tum-tum_, a light cart, with two or three -changes of horses; or else by _ekka_, a country cart, which last mode of -conveyance was very often used by Miss Tucker in coming years. It was a -peculiarly rough and wearisome mode of travelling, the ekka having no -springs; but very early she took to doing as far as possible what the -Indians do in such cases. Anything that would tend to make her one with -them was eagerly attempted. For instance, she began speedily to sit upon -the floor as Natives do; and at Indian gatherings or feasts she would -not only sit as they sat, but would share their food. She must have -been singularly supple-jointed for her years, to be able to adopt this -position without any serious inconvenience. The Rev. Robert Clark writes, -with reference to her Batala mode of life:-- - - ‘No conveyance was kept. Miss Tucker always travelled in her - little dhoolie (or bird’s-nest carriage), or in an ekka, a - native conveyance without springs, where a seat about a yard - square was perched on wooden wheels. On this she spread her - bedding, which is always carried about by Missionaries. She was - so well accustomed to sit on the ground, that her legs in this - conveyance never were in the way. She gracefully folded them - before or under her--we never could tell how--in a position - which was very painful to most English people, but which seemed - quite natural to her. She often used to trot over in this way, - in an ekka, to Amritsar, on a road which caused many bumps - and aches to most people’s heads and arms and bodies; but she - would never allow that the shaking of twenty-four miles of such - travelling as this ever did her any harm. I think she wished to - be an example to us all. We used to travel then in tum-tums or - buggies, or other vehicles with springs. But ekkas have much - more become the fashion in our Missionary circles.’ - -One idea Miss Tucker had, on first going to Batala, which the other -Missionaries dissuaded her with great difficulty from putting into -execution. This was to _dress_ as the Indians do! It was not considered -a wise or desirable plan, from any point of view; but Charlotte Tucker -had gone so far, in her enthusiasm, as to provide herself with a Native -dress, and her heart was very much set upon wearing it. To make her give -up this favourite idea was no easy matter. - -Batala is a picturesque old town, with fine banyan-trees, and many old -mango-tree gardens towards the north, enclosed either by walls or by -aloe hedges, curiously appropriate for A. L. O. E. It is said that in -her younger days a review of some of her books spoke of them as being -‘bitter, like the name of their Author.’ Did Miss Tucker ever recall this -little notice when she looked upon the aloe hedges of Batala? - -There is also a large lake-like tank close to the house in which Miss -Tucker lived, and other tanks lie further off. This nearer tank has an -ornamental pleasure-house in the middle; and the tomb of the man who -dug the tank is on its bank. Many handsome old tombs are to be seen in -the place. The town itself is old, with exceedingly crooked and narrow -streets; so narrow, that a duli when carried through often touches the -walls on both sides. The Batala people have the character of being -particularly bigoted, hard-natured, quarrelsome, and difficult to deal -with. - -Early in 1876 Miss Wauton had written in the Society’s Report: ‘I think -we may consider the Batala Mission now thoroughly established.’ This -meant that about five Girls’ Schools had been opened for Hindu, Sikh, -and Muhammadan scholars, under the superintendence of the Catechist’s -wife, being from time to time visited by the Amritsar Missionary ladies. -The children were taught elementary Christian truths; they learned to -sing simple hymns; and books were given to them. The work, however, -was hardly more than begun, when A. L. O. E. decided to make Batala her -home. One Native Catechist and his wife were there; one Batala man had -been baptized; and a certain number of children had begun to learn a -few simple truths. For the rest, Batala was ‘a stronghold of bigoted -Muhammadanism.’ - -And the first thing which had to be done was _not_ to reap a harvest, -_not_ to begin looking for results, but simply to plough the hard ground, -and thus to make seed-sowing a matter of possibility. When the ground was -broken and softened, then the seed might be sown; after that, the sown -seed could be watered, and the harvest patiently waited for. - -Almost every letter at this time contains something of interest. To quote -half of what might be quoted is impossible, for lack of space. It seems, -however, worth while to give fuller records of these early days, when -all was fresh, and when Miss Tucker’s interests were keenly awake to her -novel surroundings, even though more fulness here means some curtailing -later. - -A certain change in the style of her letters is observable after she -reached India, especially in the long series to Mrs. Hamilton. Personal -matters are pushed very much into the background; while tendencies to -introspection or to moralisings are almost non-existent. The letters -fall naturally into a simple record of the work being done. She is far -too fully occupied with things and people around to have any leisure -to bestow upon her own feelings. Moreover, the mode of expression -gains a terseness and vigour, not always characteristic of the earlier -correspondence. - -To write the life of A. L. O. E. at this period is hardly possible, -without at the same time writing the life of the Infant Church at Batala. -The one is almost identical with the other. - -The house in which their first start was to be made is described by Miss -Tucker, as will be seen, in somewhat glowing terms. She was resolutely -bent upon making the best of everything, and upon seeing all around -through her rose-coloured spectacles. There were, however, two sides to -the question. The ‘house,’ so called, was in reality an old Sikh palace, -‘used by Sher Singh, son of Maharajah Singh, as a hunting-box.’ Sher -Singh is said to have spent no more than one night in it. The building -was very substantial, and two-storied. A central room below was over -thirty feet in length, and another exactly over it was of the same size. -Other smaller rooms lay around, and of these one was chosen for Miss -Tucker’s bedroom. The great, ponderous, creaking doors were difficult -to close; and the wind would sweep through them in a manner suggestive -of chill and rheumatism. In the winter months they were very cold and -comfortless apartments. The name of the old palace was ‘Anarkalli.’[55] - -‘When we first used these rooms, during occasional visits to Batala,’ -writes Miss Wauton, ‘they were largely haunted by owls, bats, and rats; -and it was a long time before these occupants understood that they had -notice to quit the premises. Then it seemed impossible ever to make those -huge, weird, gloomy-looking rooms at all cosy and home-like. However, -we did our best with matting, screens, and furniture, to make it look -habitable. And in Miss Tucker’s eyes the very strangeness and romance of -the place made up for its deficiency in warmth and comfort.’ Mr. Clark -also, referring to this large and somewhat dreary palace, says of it: -‘The winds blew through many chinks in the uncurtained doors; and the -house was once likened to Eden, because four streams flowed through it.’ - -Two days after her arrival she wrote to her favourite sister:-- - - ‘BATALA, _Dec. 8, 1876_. - - ‘Do not connect Batala with any idea of self-sacrifice. I - am astonished to find myself in such a beautiful home. It - is more suited for an Earl and Countess than for two lowly - Missionaries; and yet our rent is only a little more than £20 - a year! Certainly, we have had to make that very necessary - article, a fireplace, and to build servants’ huts; but the - house is grand! It seems unnatural to be the lady of it. - - ‘We do not intend to furnish the room in which I am now - sitting,--till the fireplace is finished in our smaller room we - use this fine apartment,--but its length is about thirty-six - feet. Poor Shere Singh! little he guessed, when he built - the fair mansion, that he was but to sleep in it for _one_ - night, and then be murdered at Lahore! He never dreamed of - Mission-books, Bibles, etc., being stored up in those most - convenient presses in the walls, which add exceedingly to one’s - comfort. For really the native house is not only stately, but - wondrously comfortable. It seems to me to be decidedly warmer - than Amritsar bungalow--a matter of real importance to me. It - is a great deal lighter, and I suspect that in summer it will - be cooler also, at least in this room, which is splendidly - protected from the sun. - - ‘Another advantage as regards both health and cheerfulness - is that we live on the first floor, and this first floor is - a good height from the ground. One first ascends five steps - to the substantial platform on which the house is built, and - then twenty-nine steps to our apartments. Florrie and I have - each a nice, light, airy bedroom, with bathroom attached. We - shall soon have a pleasant sitting-room, to which this splendid - unfurnished apartment will serve as a vestibule.’ - - ‘_Dec. 9._--I have just come from the City,--we live more - than half-a-mile out of it. O, my Laura, a wide door is open - before us. I was told that Batala is a place where we could not - read the Bible: but I have copied a great deal into my Bible - picture-book; and there is no let or hindrance that I can see - in showing the pictures, and reading the descriptions, which - are God’s own Word.... I find that a good way to begin, when I - enter a house, is by showing off my Zouave.[56] ... Every one is - delighted with it. A good large group of women and children - assemble.... It is harder for me to understand the women, than - it is for them to understand me,--they sometimes jabber so; and - if they mix Panjabi, I am all at sea. In the evenings I intend - to do a little Panjabi with Florrie; and in return I teach her - to play the guitar. I have begun to learn the alphabet, which - has thirty-five letters. We hope next week to have an Urdu - Munshi; but I only intend to have one hour and a half with him - [_i.e._ daily].... - - ‘In nine days we hope to make a day’s itinerating tour to two - villages. There are little schools in them,--not of course - Christian. The poor women here seem inclined to like me, for - which I am thankful. Florrie told me to-day that she thought - she would have gone into fits of laughter at what was said - of me. My being elderly and unmarried seemed to be giving an - impression that I was a kind of saint or faqir,--perhaps my - being thin and wearing my faithful old green dress added to the - impression. One woman asked me whether I had eaten anything - that day. Florrie thinks that it was from a courteous wish to - feed me, if I had not. - - ‘I arrived here on Thursday,---this is Saturday. Yesterday I - saw poor, dear B--n at the house of the Catechist. He looked - sad; not as he looked in the Amritsar church. I suspect that - his Cross is still very heavy.... - - ‘I am in excellent health, thank God, and Florrie seems to be - getting all right again. She and I “pull well together, when - yoked twain and twain.” I have not seen a single white face - but hers--not even in travelling here--since I left the dear - Amritsar bungalow. I think that I shall improve more rapidly in - the language here than if I had remained at my first station. - - ‘What an extraordinary and somewhat romantic position I am - in, for an elderly lady, who in her youth hardly ever stirred - from a London home! How amazed we should have been when we - were girls, if we could have known that I was to find my home - in an Oriental palace--afar from all Europeans--and itinerate - a little in heathen villages! How good God has been to your - loving sister!’ - -TO MRS. J. BOSWELL. - - ‘_Dec. 11, 1876._ - - ‘I have not been many days in this my new home, but I could - fill pages and pages with Batala. My time, however, is - precious, and I must not waste too much even in writing to dear - ones.... I was much struck by an incident which occurred to-day. - Four workmen are still engaged in making a fireplace for us. - This morning, as I sat reading, waiting for my Munshi, one of - the men stood near, as if silently watching me. I thought - this strange; but, as he was not rude, I made no remark but - read on. Presently the man said to me, “Is that the Gospel?” I - said, “Would you like to hear the Gospel?” He assented. I read - part of Matthew v.; and the three other men came and listened. - Afterwards at morning prayer I sat very near the open door - leading to the room where two of these men were working at the - fireplace. Two of our Muhammadan servants come now regularly - to family prayers. The men at the fireplace were so perfectly - still that I am sure they were listening to God’s Word.... Of - course, it is quite optional with the servants to attend or - not; and the workmen could easily have drowned my voice, if - they had chosen to do so.... - - ‘I find my walking Zouave so very useful in opening a way, - that I much wish for five or six clever clockwork toys, such - as would take the fancy of natives.... The toys should be rather - small, and such as I could easily show off. The floors are so - rough, that I am obliged to make my Zouave walk on the top of - his own tin box, short as it is. I feel the toys, if really - clever, so important....’ - -TO MRS. E----. - - ‘_Dec. 14, 1876._ - - ‘I dare say that you will be rather curious to know how I like - my new home. I like it very much indeed. I cannot tell you what - the city is like; for though I have been into it every day - but to-day, I cannot say that I know anything of its general - appearance, except that the streets are extremely narrow, and - that the houses appear to be made of brick. The fact is that I - never go into the city, except shut up in a duli, a kind of box - with no window. Unless I push the curtain a little back, I see - nothing, and nobody can see me. I am rather careful about the - proprieties; and to be carried in a box is the correct thing. - My duli is red; Florrie’s moderately white. - - ‘Now fancy yourself at my side, dearest Aunt. I will give you a - kind of rough idea of what is said and done, after my duli has - stopped at the door of one of the four Zenanas now open to us - at Batala. I will suppose C. M. T. alone, as she sometimes is. - - ‘C. M. T. gets out of her box, and enters,--perhaps mounting a - small, rather dark staircase. Presently she finds herself in - a place where there are perhaps a dozen or twenty women and - children. - - ‘C. M. T. smiles, says, “Salaam,” and informs her who seems - the chief woman that she is happy to see her. A bed or perhaps - an arm-chair is politely put for C. M. T. to sit down on.... C. - M. T. begins by showing off a clockwork figure that can walk. - Women and children look on with curiosity and pleasure. Says C. - M. T., “The doll is cleverer than the idols; it can walk.” The - house being Muhammadan, the observation is approved of; and C. - M. T. amuses the good folk by a few lively remarks as to the - doll being weak or tired, etc. - - ‘Then C. M. T. says, “I have made a very long journey from - Europe by sea. I have come thousands of miles. Why have I - come?” Silence amongst my auditors. “I have come to give good - news.” They listen with interest. “Jesus Christ came into the - world to save sinners. This is good news. We are all sinners. - He died for us,” etc. None look angry; some look pleased; some - look tenderly at me, as if they thought me very kind to come - such a long way to give them good news. - - ‘Then a Bible picture-book is opened; perhaps the story of - the Fall read. Muhammadans believe a great deal of the Old - Testament; one can talk to them of “Father Adam,” and “Mother - Eve,” without shocking them in the least. I cannot talk - much,--very little indeed,--but I can say such things as I have - written above, and tell the dear women that I am happy, that I - do not fear death at all, because I believe that the Lord bore - the punishment of my sins on the Cross. - - ‘I have not met with any discourtesy. There are three things - in my favour--my age; my family being of the Sarkar-log;[57] - and my receiving no salary.... Another thing which seems to - awaken a sort of interest is the fact of my being unmarried. I - have met with the idea that there is some merit in celibacy. I - repudiated it, and said that in our Book marriage is spoken of - as an honourable thing.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Dec. 16, 1876._ - - ‘We never drive _in_ Batala, but on the roads outside. Of - course we often meet Natives. Some of them salaam to us, and I - make a point of bowing with marked courtesy when they do so. - One feels the salaam a breaking of the ice. Those who have - exchanged greetings on the road with us are less likely to shut - their doors against the polite strangers. Florrie has been - admitted into a fifth Zenana to-day. The Catechist thinks that - after a while there will be more work than we can overtake.’ - -TO MRS. J. BOSWELL. - - ‘_Christmas Day, 1876._ - - ‘Is not this a curious life for me? What a contrast Batala is - to Marylebone! But I stand up for Batala. This is a capital - house, in spite of rats. You should see Florrie and me in - our tam-tam driving along kachcha roads,[58] the odd-looking - conveyance plunging up and down or from side to side, like a - boat on a rough sea. Or fancy me seated in my red duli starting - for the city. I remember how I looked on the picture of such a - red duli, painted on talc, and pitied native ladies for having - to travel in a box. It really, however, is not bad, and it - is the only practicable conveyance for the narrow streets of - Batala.’ - - - - -CHAPTER V - -A.D. 1877 - -DISAPPOINTMENTS AND DELAYS - - -The year 1877 dawned full of work and full of hope, in Batala. Fresh -openings were appearing on all sides; and to the four Zenanas which -at first could alone be entered, others had been already added. Then -suddenly came a check. Miss Tucker’s hard-working companion, who had -all through suffered much from the Panjab climate, broke down, and was -ordered off to England. For Miss Tucker to remain alone at Batala, -without a single European companion, could not be thought of; and so many -Missionaries had been invalided during the past unhealthy year, that no -one else could possibly be spared. She had perforce to return to Amritsar. - -The great disappointment--and very great it was--she took patiently, even -cheerily. Some considered a few months more at Amritsar no bad thing for -her or for her future work. She had freedom from responsibility, and more -leisure in consequence for study and for writing. Many a short story went -forth from her busy pen that winter for India’s millions. But her eyes -were still bent longingly upon Batala; and her whole desire and prayer -were that she might soon return there again. - -Nor had she to wait long before the granting of her wish. Mr. and Mrs. -Beutel, then resident at Amritsar, were appointed C.M.S. Missionaries at -Batala; and when they went she could go also. Mr. Beutel describes as -follows the course of events:-- - - ‘One day--it was early in 1877--after returning from a - preaching-place in the city (Amritsar), I met Miss Tucker on - my way home. She was glad to see me, and then told me of her - intention of going to settle at Batala, provided that my wife - and I were willing and prepared to go with her. After a while - this was sanctioned, and consequently we left Amritsar for - Batala in April, and settled in the old house ... which is still - used for the Christian Boarding School. It then looked like a - haunted house, inhabited by owls,--which regularly had a dance - in the loft almost every night!--bats and wasps, etc. Miss - Tucker occupied the one wing of the upper story, and we the - other. The centre-hall served as a dining-room. She was our - daily boarder. - - ‘As a rule she rose very early in the morning. After her - morning walk, service, and breakfast, she regularly went out - into the city, to see and teach some women in their houses, - occasionally accompanied by my wife. Now and then she also paid - visits, like myself, to the villages in the neighbourhood. As a - rule the afternoons were filled up by her with the study of the - language, reading and writing, etc. - - ‘But, alas! not quite two months had passed, when both Miss - Tucker and my wife were laid up with fever. The chief cause - of this, as the Doctor afterwards explained, seemed to be the - stagnant water almost all around the house; and he ordered them - both away as quickly as possible. Consequently we all returned - to Amritsar by the end of May 1877, and settled again in our - old quarters. - - ‘As soon as the hot season was over, we all went back to - Batala, a second time. The condition of the house was as bad - as before; but Miss Tucker immediately offered her help, and I - set about fifty people to work. The ground near the house was - soon raised about two feet or more; and consequently the place - became more healthy, so that this time we could stay there all - the winter, doing our work as before.’ - -After a few months, however, came a renewed check. Mr. Beutel was -required for work in Amritsar; and when he and his wife left Batala, Miss -Tucker had to leave also. Once more she was obliged to settle down for a -term of patient waiting and study at Amritsar. - -Not till the spring of 1878 was any really permanent arrangement made. -Then a school of Panjabi boys was removed from Amritsar to the old -palace, under the presidency of the Rev. Francis Baring; and Miss Tucker -went to live under the same roof, to carry on the work among women of -Batala. Thenceforward her home was at Batala to the end. Throughout the -year 1877 she had much of doubt and disappointment to endure; but her -brave trustfulness never broke down under the strain. Charlotte Tucker -was a thoroughly loyal soldier of the Cross,--willing to go, or willing -to stay, as her Master might dictate. Her heart’s desire was to live and -toil in Batala; but a yet deeper desire of her whole being was to carry -out His Will, whatever that Will might be. The Centurion’s words, ‘I am -a man under authority,’ may be cited as peculiarly applicable to her. If -God’s Will for her were Amritsar, not Batala, she would be content. - -For a short time, seemingly, things were so; but not for long. Fresh -plans in 1878 would make all clear. Meanwhile some months of change and -uncertainty did no harm. They were but part of the polishing of the -golden staff of her Will,--to revert to her own allegory of earlier days. - -The history of these months, beginning with the time when she was first -at Batala with Miss Swainson, will best be told by occasional extracts -from the abundance of letters remaining. - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘BATALA, _Jan. 4, 1877_. - - ‘Here we are in a regular “fix,” as the boys would say,--no - bread nor butter in the house, and with the probability of a - grand lady, a Commissioner’s wife, coming to-day, perhaps to - stop the night. Pity the sorrows of--of ladies twenty miles - from civilised life. I’m not housekeeper, so I can laugh; but - poor dear Florrie!! You can feel for her. This is how we got - into the fix. - - ‘We settled on to-day, Thursday, for a general giving of prizes - in the six City schools. Several pounds have been spent on - prizes, and Florrie and I were for hours yesterday ticketing - and preparing them. The prize-giving is of real importance; for - we give prizes _instead_ of money, as the Government gives. - To throw _éclat_ on the affair, we asked Mrs. T. to give the - prizes away, which she kindly consented to do. A note was sent - to her on Tuesday morning by a kahar,[59] to tell her the day, - and the kahar was to bring back bread and butter, which we have - always to get from Amritsar, twenty-four miles off. - - ‘Thursday morning, the grand morning, has arrived,--nay, it - is nearly eleven o’clock, and the children of six schools, - their teachers and their mothers, and perhaps scores of women - besides, will be on the tiptoe of expectation,--and our _kahar - has never returned_!!! We don’t know whether Mrs. T. is - coming; we don’t know whether she is sticking half-way on the - road, waiting for the horse which we offered to send twelve - miles, _if_ she required it! Like the famous little pig, we - have eaten all the bread and butter; and if the grand lady - arrives--without that faithless kahar--what shall we give her - to eat? I urged Florrie at least to send to the city for meat; - but she fears that in the absence of the cook the guest may - arrive. - - ‘O dear! O dear! Why did we trust that _sust_[60] kahar,--or - eat up all the bread? O how shall the bari Bibi ever be fed? I - must go and try to cheer up poor Florrie, who suffers from her - head, in addition to being in this “fix.” I must tell you how - the matter ends afterwards. - - ‘Don’t fancy we’re starving! Oh, nothing like it! We had a - famous breakfast, chapatties,[61] eggs, etc. We don’t starve! - - ‘_Later._--No one has appeared. No tidings either of lady or - kahar; but Florrie has sent for meat. She told me that the poor - children had said that they would be ready at 7 A.M. If so, - they must be rather tired by this time, nearly 11½ A.M. ... - - ‘_Later._--The kahar came at last, and brought the provisions, - and a note from Mrs. T. to say that she is coming to-morrow. - - ‘_Jan. 6._--I was rather glad when yesterday’s grand affair was - over. As we had two dulis for three ladies, we had to manage by - Florrie always going first,--_i.e._ she proceeded to School 2, - while we lingered at No. 1--to School 3, while we stopped at 2, - etc. I had to try to amuse and show off the children to Mrs. T. - during the waiting time, which sometimes seemed rather long, - especially where the girls would _not_ sing. In vain I started - even a bhajan[62] in one of the schools. - -TO MR. AND MRS. CHARLES TUCKER. - - ‘BATALA, _Jan. 6, 1877_. - - ‘How well I can fancy you in your home, with the wide blue - expanse of Ontario stretching in front. I suppose the world - looks very white with you just now; with us it is pretty green. - We have no garden, but our large house stands in the country, - without any enclosure. Herds of goats or strings of camels - could pass near to our mansion. There is certainly not much - noise of carriages. Here the sight of a dâk-gari is somewhat - rare; and in the city I have never seen any wheel vehicle, - except bullock-carts in the wider streets. We can sometimes - hardly get through the narrow streets in our duli; and I am not - aware that there are any other dulis in Batala except that of - the Catechist’s wife. - - ‘Very funny things we hear of ourselves; and I dare say many - funny things are said that we do not hear. In one place which - my companion visited, in company with E., the Catechist’s wife, - she overheard the remark that she---Miss Swainson--was the - husband, and E. her bibi. I think that I excite more curiosity - than my companion on account of my age. On account, I suppose, - of an Englishwoman with any silver hair being a rarity in - India, I seem to be sometimes considered wonderfully old. - Florrie told me that she had heard the women talking as they - might have done had I been a hundred years old. - - ‘One day I wore brown kid gloves. My hands were looked at with - surprise. I suppose that the women wondered why I should have - brown hands and a white face. I pulled off my gloves, and this - seemed a new cause for surprise. Natives are very curious. - One ... young man of good family acts as my Munshi. He told me - to-day that his aunt wished to know whether I have any salary. - How astonished we should be if French or drawing masters asked - such questions in England! I have been asked what salary my - nephew receives. My being unmarried makes me doubly an object - of curiosity to the Hindu women. - - ‘A poor woman came the other day to see us, and brought us - some common yellow flowers. I did not at all admire them, - but I thought it only courteous to accept so small a present - graciously. Miss Swainson did not like to accept the flowers--I - did not know why.... She told me afterwards that she was afraid - they were brought as religious offerings,--flowers are what are - used for such offerings,--and she had heard repeatedly that we - are ‘devi.’[63] What gross, fearful ignorance! I heard on good - authority that in one place in India, not the Panjab, offerings - are actually made to a dead European, who was a special - object of dread to the Natives, and whom they therefore wish - to propitiate as a kind of _demon_! Do not the poor, deluded - creatures want teachers? I find the women in general very - gentle and courteous, and quite willing to listen when they are - spoken to on the subject of religion. With the men--except of - course the servants--we have little to do.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘BATALA, _Jan. 9_. - - ‘Florrie and I hired four extra kahars, took earlier breakfast, - and started this morning for O----, the village in which, as - you may remember, I encamped for two or three days with my - Margaret, about ten or twelve months ago. - - ‘We started on foot, as it was not at all too hot for a walk; - and though we never walk in the city, we have no objection - to doing so in the country. Our dulis, white and red, with - eight kahars, followed us. When we had walked about a mile, - whom should we meet but the postman, with the English letters! - I popped the rest of the things into the duli, but read my - Laura’s despatch as I walked along the dusty lane. Very many - thanks both to you and to dearest Leila. _The_ bonnet has not - yet arrived,--I dare say it will be very elegant,--and yet, as - well as the bag, owe its chief value to the love sewn up in it. - Your lovely tidies ornament my Batala home. - - ‘When F. and I returned from the village, being rather tired of - going about twelve miles in a canvas box,--of course there is - no seat in it; one sits half-Oriental style on a kind of coarse - carpet,--I got out to walk the last mile home.’ - - ‘AMRITSAR, _Jan. 13_.--My note to dear Leila will tell you of - the change which now a good deal engrosses my mind. You did not - like my going to Batala; and as far as we can see, our Heavenly - Father does not intend us to remain there. He is Wisdom; and - what to us seems mysterious and trying must in the end be seen - to be right.... - - ‘Ah, well, it is doubtless good to have the branches shaken, on - which we perch; and happily I have built no elaborate nest.’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘BATALA, _Jan. 20_. - - ‘I am writing in such a dismantled room, making a table - of a chair, and sitting on the floor. My luggage went off - yesterday--such a quantity! My big boxes and little boxes, - chairs, tables, almira, sofa, etc. I do not intend to unpack - more than I can help, for I rather hope to have another move - before long,--a move back to dear Batala.... - - ‘I have been round to the six schools and three Zenanas, - explaining the sad cause of our sudden departure. I have found - sympathy and kindness. On three faces at least there were - tears. Facts are often more eloquent than words! The Batala - people have seen B--n suffering keen anguish for Christ’s sake; - they see that the property which was ----‘s is his no more, - for Christ’s sake. They have seen two ladies going fearlessly, - trustingly, amongst them, one of them old, and the other so ill - that she has fairly broken down in her work--for Christ’s sake! - These things may tell more even than preaching.... With God’s - blessing Batala will yet be ours. - - ‘Strange to say, the Mission has just bought a house in the - midst of the City; not hired, but bought it out and out. I went - over it yesterday.... There is room on that ground to build a - church on. And, please God, we shall have a church there some - day. _Nil desperandum._’ - -To another she wrote on the same day: ‘It seems very sad, when there had -been such a promising beginning; a new and interesting Zenana opened to -me only yesterday; and I must quit Batala to-day, for one lady cannot -stay by herself. But I am not in the least discouraged. I believe that -the Almighty will not suffer the Mission to be permanently broken up. He -will send some one to take poor Florrie’s place; and then I am ready, at -twenty-four hours’ notice, to return to my post. I hear that the women -are very sorry for our going. I have myself seen tears on brown faces.’ -Her confident hope was soon to come true. - - ‘MISSION BUNGALOW, _Jan. 29_.--Here I am, back again in my - nice large room. My nieces would have it so, and made all - arrangements during my absence.... I must tell dear Leila what C. - H. said one day, absurd as it sounds; but it was a compliment - to _her_ work, therefore I repeat it. “How bonny the Auntie - looks in her new bonnet!” There is a bit of flattery, spoken - for once by one who is particularly plain-spoken! But it was - the bonnet that was bonny, not your loving old sister.’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_March 5, 1877._ - - ‘Many thanks to you and your sweet Mother for your loving - notes and the _Illustrated_. I am glad that I have not been - sent _Froggy’s Brother_. Not only am I afraid of shedding one - useless tear; but I seem to have scarcely any time for reading - what is unconnected with my work. I have begun the Koran, which - will be rather a tedious task,--only in English,--but I think - it well to read it, and a few books of manners and customs. - Then I have two Munshis; and with my imperfect memory, I must - be perpetually going over and over what I learn, so as not - to lose it. Then I ought to write, whenever I can, and visit - Natives a little; and we have so many interruptions. The day - passes so fast; and perhaps at the end one feels--“What has - been done?--how little!” But as for sitting down to amuse - oneself with an English story-book,--how can that be done by - your attached old Missionary Auntie?’ - -TO W. F. T. HAMILTON. - - ‘_March 9, 1877._ - - ‘I am about a very tedious work, reading through the Koran - in English. I think that it may be very desirable for me - to be able to say--“I have read your Koran right through.” - But, oh, how sleepy one gets over the book! It is so full of - repetitions; the same ideas and stories over and over again. - I am perfectly well, and the weather is now charming,--such a - comfort to get rid of the cold!--but I believe that I twice - this forenoon went to sleep, simply from reading the Koran. I - read and read, then leant back in my comfortable chair, and - took a nap! - - ‘The poor Muhammadans must get a painful idea of the Almighty - from their book. It seems almost a mockery to head almost - every “Sura” with “In the Name of God the Compassionate, the - Merciful.” One is so perpetually reading of the torments of - unbelievers, the fires of Gehenna, etc.! Our Lord is written of - with great respect, and His Birth regarded as quite miraculous; - but the Muhammadans will not believe Him to be the “Son of - God.” There is a great deal about Abraham, Moses, Joseph, - etc., in the Koran; Old Testament stories altered and enlarged - upon, to suit Muhammadan tastes. I have met with no reference - to the Blood of Atonement; in the account of the Exodus, - given over and over, there is no allusion to the Paschal Lamb; - Muhammadanism appears as a religion of works. - - ‘It would seem to me to be a dreary kind of religion, and well - suited to make men hard and stern. Of the three religions in - the Panjab, I think Sikhism by far the best; but then the race - of those who profess it in purity seems to be dying away.... - The Enemy would not leave poor Man even the scraps of Truth - bequeathed by the noble Guru Nanak. It is a sad pity. Hearts - which had only known _pure_ Sikhism might have formed a rich - soil to receive the seed of the Gospel.’ - -Early in March it was arranged, to her great joy, that before the close -of the month she might expect to be back in Batala again, living there -with Mr. and Mrs. Beutel. When the time came, the roads being especially -bad with the heavy rains, Miss Tucker performed her journey from Amritsar -to Batala in what she called ‘a most luxurious conveyance,--the big, -heavy Government dâk gari,[64] in which one can recline at ease, as -if in a bed.’ The twenty-four miles’ drive proved, however, to be not -altogether luxurious; for on the worst and roughest part of the road the -whole gari went over on its side,--‘one big wheel aloft, another big -wheel below.’ Miss Tucker being entirely unhurt, thought mainly of the -safety of her desks and of her ‘dear travelling clock.’ She found them, -to her great relief, ‘quite serene,’ as serene as she was herself in her -‘funny position,’--the clock ticking placidly on, undisturbed by the jar. -Describing the scene afterwards, she continued: - - ‘A number of men came to the aid of our forlorn conveyance, - down in the mud. The horses were of course released from the - traces. Many hands make light work; so, with a good deal of - pushing and shouting and tamasha, the carriage was set up - again on its wheels. I got out, thinking that I should have to - trudge through the mud on foot, carrying my clock in my hand. - But I was not obliged to make my entry into my palace in so - humble a fashion. I was able to re-enter the gari. Of course, I - presented the natives with a reward.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_April 14, 1877._--I wrote to our Commissioner to ask his - permission for fish to be caught in the large tank, close - to which our mansion is built. He politely replied that we - were welcome to fish with hook and line, but that a net - is prohibited. I am rather amused to find that our dear, - kind-hearted Germans cannot bear to give to the fish the - suffering which a hook would inflict. I think that we shall do - without fish. - - ‘Such stormy--oh, such stormy weather as we have had, night - after night! There have been such thunder and lightning, - and rushing blast, and banging of doors and windows, as if - in this great echoing house there were pistol practice.... - Those Indian unmanageable doors and windows are the worst of - it, particularly if any inmate of the house has headache or - fever. One wanders about in the dark,--perhaps helped by the - lightning,--to find the region of a door that is the chief - offender. The one which I managed to shut in the night, for the - first time since my coming chose to shut itself in the morning, - so that neither I nor my Ayah could open it. Some one had to go - round by another route to lift the latch, which had gone down - without being touched.’ - -In the same letter, speaking of a young Indian, who had eagerly said to -her that ‘the Bible is the light of our eyes, and the root of our faith,’ -she sadly remarked that it was ‘almost sickening’ to think what the young -Muhammadan ‘would have to endure, did he openly confess Christ,’--even -while earnestly hoping that he _would_ be constrained ‘by the cords of -love’ to leave all and come forward. - -TO MISS LAURA V. TUCKER. - - ‘_May 2, 1877._ - - ‘Thanks many, darling Laura, for your dear, sweet letter. You - speak of the flowers. Ah, if I could but give you a sight of - the glorious pink water-lilies or lotuses out of our nice - tank! I am not sure, however, whether I would not change - them for--cabbages; certainly I would for cauliflowers. It - is not very easy to get our vegetables, twenty miles away - from an English garden. However, V. brought two cucumbers - to-day,--a welcome sight,--and a Native presented us with some - kelas,[65]--more welcome still. My experience is that fruit and - vegetables are particularly conducive to health in India. - - ‘You may rejoice to hear that we have got rid of our very - wicked cook.... But it is funny to have no cook at all!! Mrs. - Beutel’s old mother does all the cooking; perhaps Mrs. Beutel - helps a little; and it puts her quite into spirits. If we - were not likely to go into Amritsar in ten or eleven days, I - think that we should be obliged to procure a cook. It is a - most unusual thing for Europeans to cook in a Panjab _May_; - every day likely to get warmer and warmer! And if Mrs. J. fell - ill, as she did last year--her daughter is constantly off and - on with fever--where should we be? In a laughable dilemma, I - should say; for I don’t think that Mr. Beutel could cook; and I - am sure that _I_ can’t! I forget--“can’t” is not a Missionary - word! But I really don’t see what I could do, except boil eggs; - we have plenty of them. You know that Fairy Frisket did not - fancy a kitchen! - - ‘We have bread brought in regularly; for I did not think the - heavy, solid German home-made bread suitable for India. The - bread we get is so beautifully light. I do not know exactly - where it comes from,--I fancy from Gurdaspur or Amritsar. I am - not housekeeper. - - ‘What a greedy letter this seems! so much about eatables! But - it may help you to picture to yourself life at Batala. I am - very happy here.’ - -The end of May found her back again in Amritsar, but by no means -downhearted. The fresh check was evidently regarded by Miss Tucker as -only temporary. - - ‘_May 30._--It does my heart good to see Emily walking off to - her work, perhaps at 6 A.M., so brave and bright, with firm, - elastic tread.... Sweet Margaret has been very unwell. She looks - too much like the statue of an angel in white marble. But - she is better again; and if we can coax her back to her old - quarters here, and pet her to any extent--her medicine--I think - that she may weather the hot weather well. - - ‘As I have little need of a separate kahar here, I was advised - to part with V. I tried to do so, but I really could not. - The poor fellow pleaded,--it was so hard to get work,--and I - remember how miserable he looked when out of situation before. - Then he is a married man, and such an intelligent, faithful - creature.[66] So I gave in! It seems to me very hard to cast - off good servants, just because the perpetual changing about - makes one rather a supernumerary. V. is invaluable to me at - Batala; and I hope to return to Batala. I was rather pleased at - C.’s pleading for his companion. He seemed quite eloquent; but - I confess that I did not understand much of his eloquence; only - he evidently did not want poor V. to be cut adrift. I would at - any time, if troubles arose, trust my life either to C. or V. I - get quite interested in some of the servants, and they seem to - be really affectionate. They are much like children.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘AMRITSAR, _June 11, 1877_.--Emily said quietly to me - yesterday, “You certainly have wonderful health.” Not that - I was well during my last trying time at Batala; but I have - surprised my friends by getting all right again so very - rapidly. The heat is very moderate as yet. I have only once - this year had the thermometer in my sleeping room up to 90°. It - seldom rises above 85° or 86°, which is nothing.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_June 22._--The banyan-tree has dropped its brown leaves at - last. Fancy a tree waiting till May or June before it will put - off its old dress! It waits till all its new leaves are well - out; and in midsummer throws off the withered ones. It is a - grand tree; the one here is a fine one, but not to be compared - to the one at Batala. - - ‘The quite new school at Batala, the first _Boys’_ School in - which Christianity is taught, has already risen to 175 pupils. - The house is too small, and I. D.[67] is going to give up his - for it, and take another. The religious instruction has been - given by three natives.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_June 30._--Dear Emily is done up. She actually asked me for - an amusing book, feeling evidently fit for little but to lie on - the sofa and read. She overworks, and the season tells on her. - When dear Leila happens to be writing to Bella Frances, would - she kindly ask her to send me by post “Fairy Know-a-bit,” and - “Fairy Frisket,” and “Pride and his Prisoners,” my funniest - tales. We have three trying months at least to come; and I want - to keep my ladies as cheerful as I can. They have not much time - for reading, except when poorly, and then a laugh is medicine.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_July 2._--The work is going on at Batala, love, though we are - absent. The Bible-woman, lately sent, who was here to-day, has - access into nearly double the number of zenanas that Florrie - and I had. There is also daily bazaar-preaching; and I. D. - tells me that he has great hopes from the new Batala Boys’ - School, where the little lads listen readily to daily religious - instruction. The women, I hear, want me back; but I do not see - my way to returning till the rains are over. It would not do - to dwell in a house which might be surrounded by water.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_July 14._--It was so nice last Wednesday welcoming my - dharm-nephew[68] back to Amritsar. Dharm is a good word to - distinguish my Missionary relatives from my relatives by birth. - A Godmother is a _Dharm_-mai. The Natives themselves have put - me up to adopting the distinction. One of them asked Emily - after me as her “dharm-poti,” (religion-aunt). My dharm-nephew - was only two days in Amritsar; he is off to Dhamsala, to be out - of the heat of the plains. He looked better than I had hoped to - see him, and just his own bright self.’ - -TO ---- ---- - - ‘_July 20, 1877._ - - ‘Mr. Clark told us the other evening that he had had an hour’s - interview with a Brahmin, who has come from beyond Benares. - This man’s views remind one of the Brahmo Somaj; but God - grant that this Hindu may find more light than those Hindu - Unitarians ever found. He is a man of great courage; he has - flung aside the prejudices of his caste; he vehemently opposes - idol-worship, and will readily eat with Christians. One of his - special difficulties in regard to our faith is, I believe, the - difficulty of reconciling God’s justice with the punishment of - the Innocent. The Brahmin is a gifted, eloquent man, and many - go to hear him. - - ‘Margaret and I were taking a moonlight drive after the heat - of the day, with lightning flickering in the sky, when we - passed a house in which I knew that the Brahmin has taken up - his abode. It is some little way out of the city, and is a - European bungalow. I pointed out to Margaret a little crowd in - the compound, in the picturesque white Oriental costume, and - told her that it was formed of those who were listening to the - preacher. - - ‘Margaret stopped the carriage, and we tried to catch the words - which could reach us at the distance. They were, however, few; - so we got out of the carriage, and without going near the crowd - drew a little nearer and nearer to the place where the Brahmin - was addressing his audience. We were still too far off to hear - much, and there was too much of Hindi mixed with his Urdu to - make his language clear; but we could see the man’s eloquent, - animated gestures, and hear the rich tones of his voice. - - ‘It was a very picturesque scene; the mingled torchlight, - moonlight, and heat-lightning,--the quaint, white-robed - crowd,--the man who has dared to break through so much, who - calls himself a Luther, telling idolaters of the folly of - idol-worship. I should think that it would be wise to place - in communication with this remarkable man some of our most - talented converts from Hinduism--not Muhammadanism.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Aug. 11, 1877._--I missed a grand opportunity the other day - of killing a centipede. It lay so quiet, as if to invite me to - make myself illustrious. But I hate crunching creatures, so - called out for some one to kill my centipede.... It is not fear - of being bitten, but dislike of killing. The ladies think that - it would not do for me to keep house, for that I should spoil - the servants. I _did_ give C. a decided rebuke the other day - for beating his wife. He promised me to be kind in future.’ - - ‘_Aug. 13._--I have this morning received my precious Laura’s - letter, with a request for a certain prayer--which I shall - certainly remember. If a feeling of fear comes over my Laura, - it must surely be as regards the _act_ of departure, not what - follows; for there is “no condemnation” to Christ’s people, no - death in the real sense of the word. - - ‘But why, love, should we fear the act of departing? How - many, many, pass Jordan, as it were, dry-shod? Remember how - peacefully sweet Fanny sank to rest,--dearest Mother,--how - my Letitia’s face was lighted up with a smile,--how our - Bible-woman at Batala sang aloud a happy hymn within a few - hours of her going! To me it seems such a simple thing for - the--I had almost said _imprisoned_ soul, to leave its “cottage - of clay,”--for the bird, as soon as fledged, to spread its - wings! We are winged creatures, and it seems a humiliation to - be creeping on earth so long. Only think what the first sight - of the Lord will be! I am not sure whether some departing ones - do not see Him before the last breath is drawn.’ - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -A.D. 1877-1878 - -A BROWN AND WHITE ‘HAPPY FAMILY’ - - -Though Miss Tucker had by no means fallen in love with Dalhousie during -her former visit to the Hills, she was again this August to be, as she -said, ‘almost trapped’ into going there. Mrs. Elmslie, albeit in need of -rest, could not leave a child in the Orphanage who was dangerously ill, -perhaps dying; and Miss Wauton, worn out with heavy toil through the -very hot weather, imperatively needed change, yet was in no condition to -manage the long distance alone. Miss Tucker therefore resolved to go with -her; and the two started off in company, Miss Tucker in her duli, Miss -Wauton on a pony. They travelled slowly, with frequent rests by the way, -so as to extend the usual two days’ hard journeying into six days of easy -advance. On August 22, before leaving Amritsar, Miss Tucker wrote:-- - - ‘Man has been described as a “laughing animal,” “a cooking - animal,” to distinguish him from the lower creation. I - would suggest “a packing animal,” for neither birds nor - beasts--except the elephant--have anything to do with filling - trunks! What an amount of packing I have had in the last two - and a half years! Of course, these thoughts are suggested by my - present business of packing for the Hills. - - ‘One must be prepared for all sorts of weather, for burning - heat, bitter cold, or furious rain. One may have all three in - the course of a week. Then one must prepare--as for an attack - of cavalry--for a dinner-invitation from the Commissioner’s - wife. One is pretty certain that one will meet some worldly - folk, who are inclined to think Natives “niggers,” Converts - hypocrites, and Missionaries half-rogues and half-fools; so - that one must not “appear as a scrub.” I do not wonder that the - weary Emily wants to keep in the jungle as long as she can. - Ah! if we could but keep in the jungle _all_ the time, I need - not pack up my “Conference Cream,”[69] nor my faithful moire - antique. There would be some fun in meeting with a cheetah or - a hyena,--I should not like a bear unless there were a kud[70] - between us,--but I shrink from the world and his wife. However, - Missionaries, like sailors, are bound for all weathers.... - - ‘If it won’t shock dear ----, I think that I must give you a - laugh over a funny little story, which was told me the other - day as a true one. A very attractive Scotch clergyman was - teased in the same way that the Energetic used to be. At last - a--one can’t call her _lady_, actually wrote to offer him “her - purse, her hand, and her heart.” The cream of the story is the - clergyman’s reply. He wrote to his silly sheep: “I advise you - to give your heart to God, your purse to the poor, and your - hand to him who asks for it.” Was it not clever? I hope that - the lady profited by the pastoral rebuke, though she can hardly - have enjoyed it.... - - ‘Thanks for the paper about the Telephone. But I hope that we - may _not_ hear our Queen’s voice by it, if it is to sound like - a trombone.’ - -From Dinaira, a place some twenty-two miles short of Dalhousie, she -wrote:-- - - ‘There is something more soothing to the eye in the softly - wooded mountains in which we are now cradled, than in the cold, - stern white peaks, seen higher up. The great want is water. - One sees the rough, almost precipitous, channels of mountain - torrents, but there is not a drop trickling in them. The land - suffers sorely from drought. The early crops were partly - spoilt by furious storms, the second crops are threatened with - destruction by the failure of the rains. A peasant saw me - yesterday very slowly getting down rather a rough bit, and with - kindly courtesy came and offered me the help of his brown hand. - He almost immediately afterwards began to speak of the want - of rain; it is the uppermost thought amongst the poor, dear - people.... - - ‘I feel that I was rather ungrateful last year about - Dalhousie. Though I do not like the place much, it is a very - great blessing to have it.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘DALHOUSIE, _Sept. 3, 1877_.--This ought to be a good day for - letter-writing; for it is like an exaggerated November day in - England: rain more violent; wind more furious.... I amuse our - ladies by my indignation at one of our best hands, Miss H. of - J----, deserting us for matrimony. Merrily laughed the bonny - blue-bell at my proposition that, in addition to the fine of - £100 imposed on Mission Miss Sahibas who marry within three - years of coming out, it should be part of the contract that - they should have all their hair shaved off on the day before - the wedding. Don’t you approve, dear? In the Strathclyde, - beside Miss F. and myself, there were four Mission Miss Sahibas - going out for the first time. One of the four has gone home, - invalided; two have married; only my noble Miss G. remains - in the field! It is a great deal worse when experienced - Missionaries marry; we do not know how to supply their places.... - - ‘You must not fancy that we have always weather like this in - the hills. When we first arrived, and for days afterwards, the - weather was lovely, July in the middle of the day, October at - night. The scenery was glorious. I hope, however, that I may - get back next week. I intend to travel rapidly, as I travel - alone.’ - -A few days afterwards saw Miss Tucker back in Amritsar; and later in -the same month she went all the long journey to Murree, giving herself -only six days of absence, to be present at the wedding of her nephew, -Louis Tucker. Thence she again returned to Amritsar. Exciting events had -happened at Amritsar during even that absence, in the shape of fresh -Baptisms and fresh persecutions. In October she was once more off on a -short itinerating tour through villages. A letter written on the first of -October refers to the Batala work, of which her heart was full. - - ‘Mr. Beutel told me with regret that Mr. Baring, on account - of low funds, had desired him on Nov. 1st to stop two - village-schools near Batala, in which 50 or 60 boys are - receiving instruction. I had my Laura’s £5--grown to £5, - 10s.--half of her handsome gift, of which Margaret has the - other half. This will keep the village schools going till - April; and by that time, please God, others may send help.... - People do not seem to care for _village_ schools. Government - does not. And the people--our dear Natives--are so anxious to - have them. The nicest boys seem the village ones.’ - -An undated letter belongs, probably, to about this time. - - ‘I think I mentioned to you that a troop of guests invaded my - poor Margaret almost in the middle of the night, 3 A.M. She - had too much bustle, too much discomfort. She fell ill, as was - almost to be expected; but I left her up again, and going to - work. When she was lying on her sick-bed,--lovely she looked, - with her soft pink cheeks, and her long golden hair hanging - loose,--I went and had a chat with her. She has had too few - chats with those whom she loves since going to live at the - Orphanage.... Says Margaret, “What caps are you going to take - to your nephew’s?” “Oh, killing caps,” said I. Perhaps they - would look killing if Margaret wore them! She would not believe - me,--her playful banter, her arch smile, so reminded me _of my - Laura_! Margaret went on exactly as you would have done. She - was certain that my velvet cap must want a new ruche; would - I send over a whole set of caps for her to improve? It would - amuse her, she said. The Doctor came in, when I was having - one of my playful chats with Margaret; and he highly approved - of my giving her a little laugh.... She called me “sparkling - champagne.” There is a fine name for a Missionary Miss Sahiba! - Fancy my discovering one day that, in her crowded little - dwelling, she had so emptied herself of needful comforts, - that she had not so much as a basin to wash in. If she wished - to wash her hands, she must stoop or kneel to perform the - ablution in her bath! Off went I to the city, and procured a - toilette-set for our house in Batala, which Margaret has the - use of till we go,--when I hope that she will return to the - Bungalow.’ - -The above must have been written before her visit to Murree, already -mentioned. By the middle of October she was on the point of again -starting for Batala; and she wrote cheerily beforehand, on the 15th:-- - - ‘Many, many thanks to my own sweet Laura for the pretty sketch - of what was once to me a very happy home. I am so pleased that - your hand has not lost its skill. I am in great hopes that, - like myself, you may have renewed vigour as you walk down - the incline of life’s hill. My companions here wonder at me. - In another month I shall have been two years in India,--only - two months, journeys included, spent in the Hills; all the - remaining twenty-two in the Plains, with one peculiarly - unhealthy season, and another of unusually prolonged heat;--and - yet I am just as strong and well as if I had been just - sauntering about an English garden all the time.... - - ‘I am considered to have a wonderful constitution; and as my - Laura is my own sister, I always hope that she has one also.... - - ‘Take no fears about Batala. Fear is another thing with which - Missionaries should have nothing to do. It seems to me that - English folk in India rather change in character. I never - imagined the effect of being in a land like this, where you - belong to a conquering race. I must not just say that no one - seems afraid of anything, for that would be an exaggeration; - but physical courage seems to come quite naturally. Those - who might be timid girls in England fearlessly travel at - night, quite alone--save for the company of wild-looking - natives,--through lonely mountain-passes, perhaps through - lightning and storm, with the possibility of meeting cheetahs, - bears, and snakes. I feel no more afraid of being at Batala, - with or _without_ Mr. Beutel, than you would of sleeping in a - London hotel.’ - -FROM MRS. ELMSLIE TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Oct. 18, 1877._ - - ‘I have just returned from seeing our darling off to Batala. - I know you will be sorry to hear she has gone there again; - and Miss Wauton, Mr. Clark, and I have tried hard to prevent - it,--in vain! She thinks it her duty to go, and she makes it - her pleasure. How we miss her here, I cannot tell you. She is - beloved and honoured by rich and poor, young and old. She is - our Sunshine. Her bright fancies, her quick perceptions, her - wise suggestions, are invaluable to all of us in the Mission. - - ‘While she frets over her want of power in speaking Urdu and - Panjabi, we are rejoicing, not only in her power of writing for - the people, but in her wonderful perception of the national - character, her insight into the weaknesses and also into the - virtues of our Native friends, Christian and heathen. Her - loving, unselfish ways are wonderfully soothing and sustaining; - and life has seemed to me a different thing since God brought - her to us. - - ‘She has been wonderfully free of fever during the past year; - and the excitability which used to make me anxious has quite - passed away. I think she has been looking quite lovely of - late; the expression of her dear face has been so restful, so - sweet, so angel-like. She has been a little less thin too, and - has been wearing more becoming caps and bonnets. We find it - necessary to look after her in such sublunary things; and many - a laugh she has at our anxiety about her appearance. You asked - me to tell you of anything she ever needs; and I think you may - like to know that she has no intermediate dress for everyday - use; nothing between the dark green cashmere and a very pale - kind of Chinese silk. - - ‘A light material of a rather dark grey colour, nicely made up - with a tunic bodice and belt, would be very useful to her. But - what would she say to me, if she thought I had written this? - Another thing is a _feather_ pillow. Such a thing is not to be - had in India; and her dear head is, I am sure, often tired. We - put our only one into her gari just now, hoping she would not - notice it. Off went her coach, and we were so pleased to think - it was with her, but she found it out before reaching the end - of the Avenue, and sent it back. If you could send one with a - coloured cover, it could do either on bed or sofa; and I think - it might be well to put her name on it in indelible ink, for - she is so very likely to give away such a desirable thing....’ - - * * * * * - - C. M. T. TO MRS. E----. - - ‘BATALA, _Nov. 15, 1877_. - - ‘Where do you think the gay Mission Miss Sahiba has been - to-day? Never consider mine a monotonous life! Why, I have been - to a fair, a _mela_, as they call it here. I had never thought - of a lady’s going to a heathen fair; but two of our Mission - ladies are here for ten days, to conduct examinations in the - schools. Our valuable Miss Wauton said that she would like to - go to the mela. Of course, I would not let her go without a - lady companion; so we both accompanied Mr. Beutel in his light - covered cart, plunging over ruts in the kachcha road in fine - style. - - ‘It was a pretty sight. The weather was delicious. Numbers of - people in their picturesque costumes were threading their way - to the village of A----, white being the prevailing colour of - the men’s costumes, gay red that of the women’s, with a fair - sprinkling of green, a touch of yellow and blue, and here and - there a grand display of glittering gold. But we did not go - just to look at the folk, or to buy fairings either. Emily and - I went armed with books and pictures, to try and sow a little - good seed amongst the women, whilst Mr. Beutel and the two - Catechists preached to the men. - - ‘Mr. Beutel found a shady place for us, and Emily and I tried - to gather women around us. The men were curious, and wanted to - see and hear also. We could not secure an exclusively feminine - audience. It was a Hindu mela; and not many Muhammadans - seemed to be present, which made matters easier for us.... No - one objected to hearing as much about the Blessed Saviour as - we could tell them. Emily speaks Punjabi famously; I have only - about a thimble-full of it; so I chiefly listened to Emily, and - held the umbrella to shield her from the sun. - - ‘It was interesting to look at the faces, when Emily, with - admirable fluency, told the story of the Prodigal Son. At this - time her audience seemed to be principally Sikh men. They - crouched upon the ground around us, and listened with hearty - interest. Nowhere, either from men or women, did we meet with - any rudeness; nor did any one seem vexed with our describing - what our Lord had done for us.... - - ‘The way in which Batala is opening out is marvellous. I go - from Zenana to Zenana, and have not by any means finished - paying all my _first_ visits!! Our Bible-woman thinks that - about _thirty_ Zenanas are open to her. I doubt that nearly - so many are open in the large mother-stations of Amritsar or - Lahore. We ought to have two or three clever, active, strong - Miss Sahibas here, instead of one elderly lady, who is slow at - both learning and teaching. - - ‘The two ladies from Amritsar are delighted with Batala. To-day - is, I think, the anniversary of my arrival in India; so I have - entered upon my third year! My Missionary life has, on the - whole, been a very happy one....’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Dec. 13, 1877._--The overland mail was particularly long in - arriving this time. I hoped that it would bring me something - particularly nice; and what should come to-day but your - dear loving letter, and the first halves of your munificent - contribution to our schools! How very kind and liberal my - Laura is! I had been speaking to Mr. Beutel but yesterday of - those two village schools, which would--from the lowness of - funds--have been dropped, but for your last handsome gift. I - was asking Mr. Beutel how far your Rs.55 would carry them on. - He replied--till past the beginning of March. Beyond that there - was no provision for them at all. - - ‘How delighted Mr. Beutel will be, on his return from Amritsar, - to hear that a bountiful supply has come in! I think it - better to apply your gift to the village schools, than to the - girls’ schools in Batala. The latter, I think, excite more - interest, and are not so likely to be in want of funds. These - poor village schools--since for retrenchment sake they were - cast off--are like waifs and strays. Government does not care - for village schools; the School Society cannot afford to - keep up half the desirable number. Mr. Beutel often receives - applications for new village schools, and is so much interested - in them that he and our Catechist have one between them.... - - ‘We are to have a grand tamasha here at Christmas-time. Mr. - Beutel is going to gather, not only the boys of our Batala - Mission School, but boys from village schools. Of course, this - is not merely to give enjoyment, though the enjoyment will - probably be great, but to bring more forcibly before the lads - the tidings of great gladness. We are a little puzzled about - the poor little girls; as their cruel and absurd pardah rules - prevent the possibility of gathering them all together, even in - the Bible-woman’s house.’ - -The beginning of 1878 found Miss Tucker at Batala; and though once more -for a short time her work there was to be broken through, the spring of -this same year, as explained earlier, would see an end of the difficulty -which had attended her permanent residence in the place. The letter -to her sister, written on January 5th, is all through a particularly -characteristic one. A large amount will bear quotation. - - ‘The warm dress which you have so very kindly procured for me - has not yet arrived; but I should not wonder if it were here - on Monday or Tuesday.... We have been guessing of what colour - it will be. Mrs. J. and I both fixed upon grey, Mrs. Beutel - purple, and Mr. Beutel brown. Perhaps after all it will turn - out to be blue. I hope that I may have it in time to wear at - B.’s baptism, which I do hope may take place to-morrow week, if - some clergyman will only come from Amritsar. To this baptism I - look forward with joyful interest. B.’s white dress is probably - ready now. We like converts to wear pure white at baptism. I - intend to give J., the Bible-woman, a new skirt to wear on the - occasion; and I should like to wear something perfectly fresh - too.... - - ‘I was in a Zenana to-day, which it is always a mental effort - to visit; but it is very interesting. Instead of talking to the - women there, I am certain to have one or two men, descendants - of the famous Guru Nanak, who engross the conversation with me - almost entirely. - - ‘The religion of the fine old fellow who is the principal - talker is a regular puzzle. He talks Panjabi; so you may - imagine how very difficult it is for me to understand him; and - he _wants to make me understand_. I do my best to do so. This - is what I gather of his views. S. is _not_ a Muhammadan; he - says that he is a Hindu; though by his birth he ought to be a - Sikh. He reverences Guru Nanak,[71] very properly, but thinks - that Guru Nanak has given religious tenets such as I am certain - that he never did. We have no reason to suppose that the - excellent Guru had ever heard of our Saviour. But S. propounds - doctrines that are amazing from the lips of a _Hindu_. He - believes in the one true God. He believes that a time of great - war and trouble will come; and that then Isa Masih (Jesus - Christ) will come like a flash of lightning, and become the - Ishar (Divine Lord) of all the Earth. - - ‘I had taken a Gurmukhi Testament with me. Neither of the men - seemed disposed to read it. I thought that perhaps neither - of them _could_; so I opened it myself, and chose a pretty - easy place. I had never read the Gurmukhi character in a - Zenana before. My old Sikh--for I cannot help considering him - one--listened very attentively, correcting my pronunciation - now and then. I did not venture to read much. Then he took - the Testament himself, and began to read it in regular Sikh - fashion, in a kind of measured chant, as if it were poetry. It - was clear that he _could_ read; so I left the precious Volume - as a loan in that house. May God bless it!...’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Jan. 9, 1878._--Hurrah! the box has come! It is in process of - being opened. - - ‘Was I not a real witch? Did I not guess a grey dress? What an - elegant, ladylike, quiet costume! And so warm and comfortable!... - When I opened my tempting box, I thought of the dear fingers - which had been employed in putting it up! How very, very - kind you have been! So many, many thanks! And what loves of - cushions! You have remembered my weakness for cushions. Soft, - warm, and so pretty!... I am obliged to go to Amritsar, just for - a few days, as Mr. Clark and Margaret cannot come here; and we - must have a serious, prayerful discussion about what is really - very important, and too complicated for letters.... I see my - _own_ path clearly. I intend, please God, to stick by Batala. - My friends will not hear of my staying alone.... May God guide - us! Batala should NOT be abandoned.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Jan. 23._--I have come back from Amritsar, with nothing - settled, except that the Beutels are to go to Amritsar about - the middle of March. The Batala affairs have been much talked - over.... I earnestly hope that I may not have a third time to - retreat from Batala, for lack of a companion. We are beating - about for one, but it seems a hard thing to find, we are - so undermanned. Every one seems to acknowledge the great - importance of Batala.... - - ‘As for its being unhealthy, I regard it as _more_ healthy than - either Amritsar or Lahore. The tank is a lovely tank, with no - bad smell; and when it is very full I can _see_ the current of - water flowing in on one side and out at the other. Fishes live - and jump about in it; and birds delight in its bright waters. - I have a better chance of keeping well through the hot weather - here than at the bungalow at Amritsar. This house is far better - built, with thick walls, lofty rooms, etc. But none of my - Missionary friends at Amritsar will listen to my staying here - alone. So I must just wait, and see what is God’s Will. He can - send me a companion, if He sees right to do so.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Feb. 7._--Perhaps you will be glad to hear that all our - attempts to find a companion for me at Batala have failed. - Poor ---- must go back to England; it was a mistake ever to - have sent out so delicate a lady. Miss ---- with whom I was - in treaty, is going home too. Mrs. ---- has been secured for - another station.... Perhaps I have been too ready to say to - myself, “There is no place on earth where I can be so useful - as at Batala.” I must come down a little, which is wholesome. - But I have not any sense of defeat; no, thank God,--every visit - to Batala, it seems as if fresh ground had been gained. The - waves retreat again and again, while the tide is advancing.... I - believe that a far better spirit, a spirit of kindness towards - us, a lessening of prejudice, a most encouraging readiness to - listen, is now spreading in Batala.[72] Maulvi Z. felt the - difference. B--n feels the difference. I believe that there - will be _real_ regret at our leaving Batala. Dear B--n!... I had - brought for B--n’s children two gay little coverlets.... B--n - took them and wrapped them round the plump little girls as - chaddahs. I think that he was quite pleased.... - - ‘Oh, did I tell you--I told somebody--about my other Brahmin; - the elderly man who prays by the side of our tank? I have - repeatedly spoken to him in my indifferent Panjabi; and I - spoke to my nephew, R. Bateman, about him, when he was here - for two days. So on one of the mornings I see my nephew seated - beside my Brahmin close to the tank, with only a handkerchief - round his delicate head. His old Auntie soon supplied him with - an umbrella. R. Bateman gave me afterwards an account of the - Brahmin’s strange view of religion. One can hardly imagine a - mind in which the whole visible creation is regarded as God. - The Brahmin had no idea of _sin_; he had _never seen it_, he - said,--as if it were a thing like a stone or a tree! - - ‘I saw the poor fellow by the tank yesterday morning, and went - out and spoke to him. I invited him to come to morning prayers. - Rather to my surprise, the dear man really did come. He must - be a wondrously meek Brahmin; for he seated himself on the - floor amongst the servants, labourers, etc., apparently quite - forgetful of the tremendous difference between their castes and - his own. Mr. Beutel makes morning family prayers almost like - a regular service. He not only reads the Bible, but expounds. - I had asked him, for my Brahmin’s sake, to make his address - as Punjabish as possible; so he stuck in Punjabi words where - he could. My Brahmin looked very attentive. He has a sort of - childlike readiness to listen, looking full at you when you - speak; and his face quite brightening as if with pleasure when - you talk of a Saviour. It must be all so strangely new to him! - I wonder if he will come again.... - - ‘To-day I went to two new houses,--I have such a number to go - to! When I sang of the Saviour’s invitation, to a Hindu, not - only did she seem to listen attentively, but I saw her wiping - moist eyes. - - ‘Margaret and E. Clay intend coming here the day after - to-morrow for two days.... I must not dwell on parting with - Margaret.[73] I rejoice in the happiness which I hope she will - enjoy. She has worked long and very hard.... No doubt there are - some wise and merciful reasons for sending me away from Batala.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘BATALA, _Feb. 14_.--Another curious phase in my strange, - strange life! I told you or dear Leila of the idea of the - Boys’ Orphanage being brought here. That idea was knocked on - the head; but another is taking such shape that it is likely - enough that I shall find myself, not exactly planted in, but on - the top of--and underneath also--_another_ boys’ school! The - Rev. F. Baring, the Bishop of Durham’s son, has fallen in love - with Batala, and has set his heart on buying this house from - Government, for a Boarding-school for Christian Native Boys. - - ‘We have no wish, however, to lose our hold of our beautiful - palace as a station for the Zenana Mission; so it is likely - that, if Mr. Baring succeed in buying Anarkalli, he will allow - our Mission to rent from him, on easy terms, that part of the - house which we now occupy (by we I mean myself), with the - addition of the drawing-room and part at least of the grand - dining-room. Dear, good Babu Singha and his wife and family - will probably live in another part of the palace, he being - Under-Superintendent of the School!! - - ‘Here’s a brown and white Happy Family for you! Natives and - Europeans can hardly chum together; yet it would be absurd - to have _three_ cooks for us. The present idea is for Mr. - Baring and me to chum, _till_ I am joined by any young lady. - Mr. Baring ... is quite happy with me, because of my venerable - age, which I have found such an advantage in India. He asked - me to-day to have him as a nephew! How rich I am in these - dharm-nephews,--to say nothing of the real ones! Now I have - _five_; one of them being my Afghan, and the others four of - the most valuable clergymen in the Panjab Mission.[74] Henry, - my Afghan boy,[75] you must know. He is the youngest of all my - dharm-nephews. - - ‘Now, what does my sweet Laura say to my plans--and my family? - I like you to know all my nephews.... I have more nieces even - than nephews; but you have had enough of my dharm-family for - the present. Mr. Clark wanted me to take him in too. If he had - asked to be a _brother_, I should have welcomed him; but I - really could not have as a nephew one to whom we look up as a - head-pastor, a kind of bishop! I don’t think that my nephews - should be more than forty years old.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘AMRITSAR, _Feb. 23, 1878_.--Here I am again in dear old - Amritsar.... I know that you will be curious to hear how the - Batala school plan progresses. Well, we are waiting to hear - what our saintly new Bishop says to it. In a matter of such - importance it is right to wait for the advice of such an - Apostolic man.... I wait passively. There is plenty of work for - me at Amritsar, more than I can do at all properly.... - - ‘You see, Laura darling, there are quantities of Aunts in - England; but an old Auntie is a rare bird in India, and - therefore in request. I am like a hen with such a large brood! - - ‘Dearest Margaret will be much missed. Many, many, both English - and Natives, love her.... The Native Christians have quietly - subscribed for a shawl for her Mother, as a token of their - grateful love. I think the Natives very affectionate. People - talk of their being ungrateful; but those who talk so have - perhaps never _earned_ their gratitude. If you love them, they - love you! They are very sensitive, both to kindness and to - unkindness....’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_March 4, 1878._ - - ’ ... Missionary work can be just as truly done in England as - in India; but only a few of the dear workers _can_--without - forsaking other duties--come out so far as the Panjab. Those - who come here should be strong also, physically as well as - mentally suited for the peculiar work and trying climate.... - - ‘There are plenty of poor in Amritsar, as well as Batala. I - went to Mrs. Clark’s yesterday, at the large Mission House. - In her garden were quantities of poor folk; between three - and four hundred, counting children. A Catechist preached to - them first; and then a great number of chapatties, a kind of - thick flat cake, of very simple make, with a small quantity - of dal,[76] was handed round and distributed. Adults had two - chapatties each; children one. Mr. Clark had had a Brahmin to - cook, for Hindu beggars would not otherwise have liked the - food, and Muhammadans do not object to a Brahmin’s cooking. - Station-people subscribe to help in the distribution of this - food.... - - ‘Mr. Clark and my new nephew, Mr. Baring, have gone to Lahore - to see our new Bishop.[77] He is known to be such a saint, - that thanksgivings have been offered again and again for his - appointment.’ - -TO MRS. J. BOSWELL. - - ‘_March 4, 1878._ - - ‘Is poor, dear ---- going to remain in the same house, so full - to her of sad memories? People feel so differently on this - subject. Some cling to the spot where they have loved and - sorrowed,--others fly from it. I should never like to cross - the threshold of No. 3 again. I am rather pleased that it has - another number now. There is _no_ 3 Upper Portland Place now.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_March 8._--I can fancy the request to have my letters - directed to Batala has excited a little curiosity. It really - seems likely that our comical arrangement will be carried out; - and that I and my nephew will find ourselves chumming together - in the midst of a Boys’ School!! - - ‘The Panjab is eager to have a boys’ school for young Christian - Native gentlemen. The Bishop approves. Our boys are to pay - Rs.5 a month. This may cover food expenses, but of course not - the expense of first-class teaching. Batala is to have this, - the nucleus of a future Panjabi Eton or Harrow (if it please - God to prosper it), the training-place for our clergymen, - lawyers, and merchants. I am _not_ to be Matron. I am the sole - representative--European--of our Ladies’ Zenana Society; but it - would be strange if I lived in the same building with the dear - boys, and took no interest in them. It is probable enough that - I shall find myself playing at Oxford or Cambridge, or giving a - music-lesson to young Panjabis. A comical idea suggests itself. - I have a large family of new Nephews and Nieces in India. Am I - to have a whole troop of brown Grandnephews in perspective!!! - Don’t fancy them ugly savages. Many will probably be winsome - enough,--bright, attractive, and courteous. - - ‘Good Babu Singha and his excellent wife will probably be in - the house, but not chum with Europeans.... - - ‘Only imagine my darling Laura dreaming of coming to Egypt to - meet me!! But I doubt her being up to such a journey; and mine - would be about as formidable a one. But the dream is one of - “old,” not “young Love”!’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_March 15._--Now, darling, to answer your objections to my - spending the hot season at Batala.... I doubt that the risk to - health from climate will be at all greater at Batala than - at damp Amritsar. Always remember, love, that at the former - place I am high above the ground, while at the latter I am on - it. This makes an immense difference. The large inner room at - Batala would be cooler than any room here.... - - ‘I intend to take my large harmonium to Batala. It may be of - immense use there. I suppose that I shall have charge of all - the music; for I do not believe that either my Bhatija (nephew) - or the Singhas know anything about it. It is of _immense_ - importance. Mr. R. told me yesterday that the Rev. C., perhaps - the most valuable convert in all the Panjab (he is a Bengali), - was first brought to Christ by listening to Church music. It - carried his soul away! I wish that I were more competent for - the charge; but I must hope and pray that God may bless my - little attempts to serve Him by music. I am so thankful that - age has not affected my voice; at least, it does not seem to me - to have done so.’ - -The latter fact would tell little. People in advancing years are seldom -able to judge of their own voices. Others, however, speak of the unusual -manner in which Miss Tucker’s voice lasted. It had never been one of much -power or sweetness; but she had always had a sensitive ear, and had sung -well; and to the end she still sang in tune, even when the voice itself -became cracked with age. - -One other point in the above may be noted. Miss Tucker was throughout -anxious to make the best of her beloved Batala; and undoubtedly this was -a case of ‘making the best.’ If Amritsar was damp, so also must Batala -have been,--at all events, in the seasons of heavy floods, when it was -often impossible to get about, from the state of the roads. There were -times when Anarkalli was all but a veritable island, in the midst of a -kind of lake. This could hardly be regarded as healthy, while it lasted. - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - _March 28, 1878._ - - ‘I am to have my “pen,” about which my dharm-nieces joke a - great deal. Mera Bhatija[78] is going to cut a slice off his - magnificent dining-room, to make a cool retreat for the Auntie. - As a bamboo-screen right across would be very unsightly, if - seen in its bareness, I am going to have mine covered on both - sides. Fancy a screen, twenty feet long and six feet high! I - have been very fortunate in securing a most suitable cloth for - the cover. A bedroom chintz would have looked quite out of - character, but I have bought a native cloth, with an Oriental - pattern, very tapestry-like, old-fashioned conventional flowers - and birds on a blue ground. It is such a pattern as one might - see in a picture, and will not destroy the effect of the - Oriental hall. Every one who saw it at once fixed upon it as - _the_ thing.... - - ‘Emily has ordered eight chairs for my rooms,--I had two of - my own,--and your beloved Mother knows that I am splendidly - supplied with cushions; such dainty cushions! I like my rooms - to look rather nice, as young Panjab may get an extra polish, - if admitted to an English lady’s drawing-room.’ - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -A.D. 1878 - -PERSECUTIONS - - -Once more Miss Tucker settled down in Batala--for life! She would only -leave the place again for her short and well-earned holidays; and at the -last for her passing away. - -During many years her home was still to be in the quaint old palace, -described by others as draughty, weird, forlorn, desolate; though she -herself so resolutely looked upon the discomforts of the old building -through rose-tinted glasses. But its dreary aspect was soon to be -changed. The bright faces of Panjabi lads, the merry voices of Panjabi -scholars, were to fill with fresh life those big and empty rooms. ‘The -Baring High School,’ as it was called, had its first existence in the -shape of a small boarding-school at Amritsar, which Mr. Baring decided -to remove to the palace at Batala. About fifteen boys were, in the -beginning, at Anarkalli,--described by A. L. O. E. as ‘our choicest young -Natives, converts or descendants of converts; one is the grandson of a -martyr!’ These boys or their friends paid fees, when they could, which -was not always; and the fees, though perhaps sufficient to cover their -food, were by no means sufficient to cover the cost of a good education. - -From the spring of 1878 Mr. Baring resided there, as C.M.S. Honorary -Missionary, with control of the Boys’ School, which indeed had been -started mainly at his own expense; while Babu Singha worked under him as -the Master of the School. Miss Tucker, as she stated in her letters, held -no such post as that of Matron. Her position was entirely independent, -being that of Honorary Zenana Missionary. She paid for her own rooms -and her own board in the Palace, and regarded Zenana visiting, and the -writing of small books for Indian readers, as her prime occupations. But -for Charlotte Tucker to live under the same roof with all those boys, and -not to give them loving interest, not to attempt to teach or influence -them, would have been a sheer impossibility. - -Another Boys’ School had been started in Batala, which must not be -confounded with the above. The Baring High School was--and is--distinctly -for the education of Indian Christian boys. The Mission School, known -later as ‘The Plough,’--Miss Tucker recognising strongly that this early -stage of work in Batala could only be compared to a farmer’s ploughing -of his fields,--was for Indian boys, not yet Christian. They received -Christian teaching; and when a boy in the Plough School became a convert, -he was passed on usually to the High School. The very starting of this -‘Plough School’ was due to Miss Tucker’s liberality. Out of her own purse -she generously paid the main part of its expenses. - -We must turn again to her letters, with all their curiously fresh, -_young_ eagerness and enjoyment, to realise what her life was at this -time. Charlotte Tucker might call herself ‘old,’--she was very fond of -doing so on every possible occasion; but certainly none of the weight of -age had as yet descended upon her spirits. - -TO SIR W. HILL.[79] - - ‘BATALA, _April 13, 1878_. - - ‘We hope next Sunday to have a Baptism in our lovely little - lake; and we have been practising baptismal hymns to sing on - the joyful occasion. We had some anxiety about our young - convert.... He went to Amritsar on business; and at the time when - we expected his return he did not come back. - - ‘What could have happened? Had the dear youth been seized by - his Muhammadan relations? Such things do happen; the danger is - a very real one. It is often no easy matter to confess Christ - in India. Mr. B., who was here, wrote off a note to a Christian - Maulvi in Amritsar to search for the lad. He did so, and found - him, and brought him here in safety last night; but not before - ---- had had a painful time of it in Amritsar. - - ‘I looked with interest on that Christian Maulvi, as he sat in - our drawing-room, conversing with the English Missionaries.... - _He_ has known well enough to what dangers a convert may be - exposed; for he has experienced them.... He was the first of - his family to take up the Cross. His Muhammadan neighbours - formed the fiendish design of _burning him alive in his house_. - They piled up his clothes, etc., in an under room. He was - sleeping above. The Muhammadans set fire to the pile; and the - clothes, etc., were quickly consumed; but the fire did not, - as was intended, set the whole house in a blaze. The ceiling - was charred; that was all; and the Christian slept unharmed, - watched over by the Eye that never slumbers nor sleeps.’ - -About this time A. L. O. E. wrote home to another quarter:-- - - ‘Yesterday a letter arrived from the schoolmaster of O---- with - tidings that a lad of fifteen has had the courage to declare - to his friends his desire to become a Christian. The natural - result of such a declaration has followed,--the young confessor - has been beaten. It is no small matter to stand up thus openly - for Christ in a heathen village. The lad may have to endure - much. I have seen one who was made to stand in boiling oil by - his own father, to hinder him from going to the Christians. - Whether the O---- boy’s conversion has been the result of the - Good Friday expedition we know not; but whether it be so or - not, the lad claims our sympathy and interest. We shall try - to bring him here, to the Batala Boarding-School, where he - may at least receive food and protection. “It is a refuge,” - said our Christian Maulvi to me yesterday, glancing up at the - goodly building raised by the Maharajah Shere Singh, who little - dreamed that he was preparing in it a home for a Christian - Natives’ Boarding-School, and also for the ladies of a Zenana - Mission. I am at present the sole English Agent of the latter - Society here.’ - -TO MRS. E----. - - ‘_May 10, 1878._ - - ‘You may like to hear a little more about our School of young - Panjabis, as it is rather a curiosity. - - ‘My nephew, Mr. Baring, has succeeded in making these young - Natives like not only cricket, but gardening. We are to have - a Horticultural Exhibition in August, when prizes are to be - given for the best flowers and fruit. Considering that the - gardens are all on ground _redeemed from the lake this year_, - it will hardly be expected that the show will equal one in the - Botanical Gardens. But oh, you should see our glorious pink - water-lilies! They grow wild in the water, and would be a sight - anywhere. - - ‘I want the boys also to take to intellectual games. I am much - pleased at having succeeded in making one nice lad compose two - Sunday enigmas. I by no means despise this small beginning - of authorship. Sunday enigmas greatly increase knowledge of - Scripture, and also help to make the holy day pass pleasantly. - There is a great deal of singing here also; and such a lovely - text for our Chapel wall is now almost ready.... Our dear lads - cannot, as ---- did, give a beautiful pulpit, but I think that - they take a pride and pleasure in their Chapel. - - ‘It will look rather pretty, I hope, with its white walls, - and striped pardahs of red and white, and the pretty blue - ecclesiastical-looking carpet which is promised for it. A - _Baptismal Register Book_ is ordered. I want a large one! God - grant that it may fill up rapidly. We shall require a cemetery - too, and have rather set our hearts on a pretty mango tope[80] - at a suitable distance from, but not quite in sight of, the - house.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘BATALA; _my beloved Laura’s Birthday, May 20, 1878_. - - ‘On this day of all days in the year I could not but write to - my own precious sister, even if I had not such a nice, long, - interesting letter to thank her for, as I received yesterday.... - - ‘Like you, I earnestly hope that the Almighty will preserve - our dear land from the fearful evil of war. You and I would - scarcely now care to sing-- - - ‘“In the proud battle-fields - Bounding with glee.” - - ‘How little realisation the juvenile writer had of what war - is!... _We_ are in another kind of warfare here. This living in - the First Century, instead of the Nineteenth, seems to give a - more vivid colour to life. I suspect that I should find some - Missionary stations so dull after one like this! Such as those - where year after year passes without an adult baptism being - witnessed,--hardly expected,--perhaps in some instances hardly - _hoped_ for!... The fact is that it needs some moral courage in - the Missionary, as well as all sorts of courage in the Convert, - to face the storm that may follow a baptism. - - ‘One feels almost ashamed of remaining in such perfect - security,[81] when encouraging a poor brown brother or sister - to go up, as it were, to the cannon’s mouth. I was thinking - to-day what would be the _most_ painful sacrifice which one - could make. It seemed to me that of the _love and esteem of - all our dear ones_. And that is just the sacrifice which some - of our brethren have to make! No wonder that they hesitate, - weep, shrink from the flood of sorrow before them; but the - true-hearted ones make the plunge at last. “The love of Christ - constraineth.” - - ‘The enclosed to ---- will give you an idea of some people’s - trials; but ever and anon new cases seem to crop up. I expect - that our fair Batala will be a kind of harbour of refuge - to hunted ones. Mera Bhatija has been telling me that a - Missionary--I forget where--is about to have a Baptism, and - wants to send the new Christian over to us for a week, to let - the storm blow over a little. Another lad was all packed ready - to come, but he was caught. He means to take the opportunity of - escaping when he can.... - - ‘Mera Bhatija and I are curious to see the Rainbow glass. - Perhaps, if it be small, I may show it off in the Zenanas. New - and curious things give much pleasure. From a little round - pin-cushion of mine the pretty glass picture of a Cathedral - came off. I often take it with me, and show it, and say, “This - is an English Church, in which God is praised every day!” Mere - prints do not take with the Natives. They like coloured things - that glitter.’ - -TO MRS. J. BOSWELL. - - ‘_May 21, 1878._ - - ‘It is wonderful to me how an English lady can go without fear - or danger all about Batala, meeting with so much respect and - courtesy. I do not feel it the slightest risk. Into narrow - lanes, up dark staircases,--amongst women, amongst men,--I go - without the smallest excuse for being alarmed. The people, - too, generally listen very quietly, though what is said may - be dead against their views. I make the slender concession - of calling Muhammad “Mr. Muhammad”--“Muhammad Sahib”--but no - one could object to so common a title. He is never called - “Hasrat”--Saint--like Moses and David.’ - -TO THE SAME. - - ‘_May 29, 1878._ - - ‘Three new boys have arrived to-day. I am glad that they did - not come till I had pretty well learned up the first seventeen, - tacking the right names to the right faces. It took me a good - while to do this, for I have a difficulty in remembering faces.... - - ‘The Natives who send their boys to this upper-class school - are of course anxious that the lads should be good English - scholars. At this time of high-pressure education it is - necessary that they should be so. Mr. Baring drudges day after - day at the English classes; but it occurred to me that I could - give a little help in play-hours. I have written an English - charade for our young Panjabis to recite; and the idea has, I - think, taken with them. It needed a little management to give - a separate part to every one of seventeen boys, apportioning - it to the individual’s capacity. Pretty little P. (five years) - could not be expected to manage more than a line and a half; - but it would never have done to have left him out. Into each of - the three divisions of the charade I have introduced a lively - chorus, in which all can join. The song that takes most is-- - - ‘“I am a brisk and sprightly lad, - But newly come from sea, sir!” - - ‘This is rather curious, as none of our Punjabis have ever seen - the sea. The chorus will be first-rate practice for rapid, - clear pronunciation; for - - ‘“When the boatswain pipes ‘All hands aloft!’” - - would not be an easy line even for some English boys. If the - lads manage tolerably well, the charade will be great fun. Who - would ever have dreamt that part of a Missionary’s work should - be to set boys to learn a lively charade! - - ‘I pity the City boys. I suspect that there is a sort of - wistful longing raised in many a young heart, “I wish I were - one of those Christian boys!” If there could be a blind ballot - of Batala boys, as to whether the whole town should become - Christian, I am by no means sure whether the votes would not - be in our favour. I do not mean that the poor, dear lads are - _converts_, but that they use their eyes and ears,--and think - that ours must be a very pleasant, genial kind of religion, - connected in some sort of way with singing, and cricket, and - kindness.’ - -Another short English play, written by Miss Tucker for the boys, was -called _The Bee and the Butterfly_. Miss Mulvany, a Missionary, went one -day, somewhere about this time, to Batala for a few hours; and in the -course of her visit she was sent upstairs, while Charlotte Tucker gave -the boys a lesson in acting the said little play. Miss Mulvany has never -lost the impression made upon her by the peals and shouts of laughter -which came up from the merry company below. - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_June 19, 1878._ - - ‘I am reading the Granth,[82] the sacred book of the Sikhs. - Like the Koran, it is very long,--I think more than 600 quarto - pages,--and with an immense deal of repetition in it. But it - leaves on the mind a very different impression from the Koran. - As far as I have read, it is wonderfully pure and spiritual. If - you could substitute the name “Almighty” for “Hari,” and “Lord - Jesus” for “Guru,”[83] it might almost seem the composition - of hermits in the early centuries, except that celibacy is - not enjoined. Woman seems to be given her proper place. Many - exhortations are addressed to women.... - - ‘There is something touching in the longing--the - yearning--after God,--the intense love of His Name! The Sikh - idea of God is not that of the Hindus, with their fiend-like - deities. The Creator is light, and goodness, and happiness. - There is indeed the ridiculous idea of people having to pass - through 840,000 states of existence,--unless the probation be - shortened by meditation, purity, and the repetition of God’s - name,--but this fearful number of births is regarded as very - tiresome indeed. - - ‘One might call the Granth “the book of yearning,” and I feel - humiliated that I, with Gospel light, should in spiritual - contemplation and longing for closest communion with the Deity - come so far behind these poor Sikhs. Unfortunately, the Sikh - religion has been so much corrupted that it is almost dying - out. I suppose that it was too pure to please the Enemy; - he knew that the Granth would offer no strong opposition to - the Bible. Here, in Batala, his stronghold seems to me to be - Muhammadanism. It shocks me to find how that invention of - Satan darkens the moral sense. What would be thought sin in - another, is by some openly defended as no sin _if committed by - Muhammad_!! - - ‘The Muhammadans too are so ready to stand up for their false - faith; far more inclined to defend it than the Hindus are to - defend theirs. Mera Bhatija was saying to-day that no book has - been written against Christianity by a Hindu. I have myself, - however, seen a very bitter article in a paper. But, generally - speaking, the Muhammadans seem to be much sterner opponents of - Truth than the Hindus. I feel it in the Zenanas. - - ‘Now, my own Laura, I am going to my long task of reading - the Granth. It puts me on vantage-ground when I can tell the - Natives that I have read their Scriptures.’ - -The High School was not to have broken up before the middle of August; -but circumstances caused Mr. Baring to fix upon a fortnight earlier, -and this decided Miss Tucker to go to Amritsar on July 28. She at once -planned that two of the hard-worked ladies at the Mission bungalow should -then take their holiday, while she remained as a companion to the third. -It does not appear that she had any idea of the Hills for herself. No -doubt the change to Amritsar would mean pleasure, if not rest; and -she was still able to speak of herself as ‘wonderfully well’; but the -unselfish thought for every one else, rather than of her own needs, is -not the less remarkable. - -To one of her correspondents she wrote from Batala on the 6th of July: -‘You know that I am the only Englishwoman within twenty miles. Now and -then friends pass a night here; but in the hot weather not often.... -The 29th will, if I stay till then, complete sixteen weeks of steady -residence, during which I have only twice seen English ladies,--for less -than twenty-four hours. I doubt whether any European has ever stopped -in Batala so long before without a single night’s absence.... Once from -Friday evening to Monday morning I saw no white face. There is a nice -brown lady in the house.’[84] - -At Amritsar she found herself as usual in the midst of engrossing -interests. Fresh Baptisms were taking place; and about these she wrote to -Mrs. Hamilton on the 21st of August, describing one just past:-- - - ‘There was a sweet-looking woman, D., a convert from Hinduism, - and her two dear little girls. Her husband, who is not brave - enough, or perhaps not sufficiently led towards Christianity, - to follow her example, saw her depart for church. “You know - that she is going to be baptized,” said Emily. “Yes, yes,” - was the reply. “You must be kind to her, and receive her - back.” The man made no objection,--even to his two children - being baptized; though he had formerly put obstacles in the - way. There was a fourth, a convert from Muhammadanism, T., - whose baptism was the most interesting of all.... The clergyman - subjected the poor girl to the ordeal of a severe examination. - She had never probably spoken to an Englishman before; and it - would have been no wonder had she flinched or faltered. But - she, who has already been beaten at home for Christ’s sake, - showed no sign of weakness. Her answers came clear and firm. - “Is it because of Miss Wauton’s speaking that you come?” “No, - it is because of my heart’s speaking.” - - ‘The miseries and persecutions that may be coming upon her were - almost, I think, _too_ faithfully set before her. “If they were - even to kill me, as they did M.’s father, what fear?” said the - dauntless girl.... - - ‘I remarked to ----, on my return from the baptism, that I - thought that the Indian women were braver than the men. He - quite agreed; he knows that _he_ dare not come forward like D. - and T. Our noble N. is, we believe, a Christian at heart, and - we know other men of whom we think that the same might be said, - but they linger and linger, and _dare_ not yet ask for baptism. - Here this year in Amritsar we have had five women, and last - year two, who, in the face of what we might have considered - almost insurmountable obstacles, have bravely confessed Christ - in baptism. It must be much harder for them than for the men, - but they seem to have more courage, or more faith.’ - -Several weeks later another reference in home-letters is found to -the brave girl, mentioned above: ‘By last accounts dear T. is holding -out nobly. We are not allowed to see her; but I hear that one or more -Maulvis[85] have been brought to try to argue the young maiden out of her -faith. But she tells them that they may read to her all day long, but -they never will change her. They say that Christianity is ‘written on her -heart,’--what a testimony from Muhammadans!--and that the ladies must -have bewitched her. It reminds me of Lady Jane Grey in prison; for dear -T. _is_ a prisoner.’ - -Plans did not fit in as Miss Tucker had intended. Once more she found -herself called upon to act escort to a sick Missionary, who had to go -to the Hills, and was not well enough to travel alone. Miss Wauton -could not just then be spared from Amritsar, and she appealed to the -‘Auntie,’ whose readiness to help in any emergency was by this time well -understood. ‘It seems as if by some fatality I must go each year to -Dalhousie,’ Charlotte Tucker said in one letter, adding, ‘But I hope to -return back in a few days.’ Then, in allusion to a scheme that she should -join her nephew at Murree in September, ‘I do not propose staying long. -After sixteen weeks of unbroken residence at Batala, behold me rushing up -and down hills like a comet.’ - -TO MISS L.V. TUCKER. - - ‘_Aug. 14, 1878._ - - ‘We are to have a Confirmation here on the 3rd of November. - I should be much tempted to come up from Batala to witness - it, particularly if any Batala Christians are confirmed. I am - afraid that ----‘s wife will shrink from breaking pardah,--that - nonsensical pardah, which is a real snare to some baptized - bibis.... There is one dear baptized young bride in Batala, whom - I have not seen, but hope to search out on my return. The brave - girl dared to be baptized in Amritsar, but was then carried off - by her husband to Batala, and we know not in what part she is. - She is likely to be having a hard time of it, but it is quite - right in her to be with her husband....’ - -Writing home, she described drolly her absence from Batala as--‘this -strange episode of my life;--seven weeks acting Superintendent of the -Orphanage,--three of those weeks sole Missionary at Amritsar,--and--oh, -bathos! ten days an ayah--for I had none other.’ Still her health seemed -to keep good. She could stand the plains in hot weather as scarcely -another Missionary was able to do. While one and another broke down, and -had to be off to the Hills, Miss Tucker kept about, much the same as -usual, filling up as far as possible the gaps left by others. - -She was full of ardent sympathy at this time for certain converts from -Muhammadanism, undergoing severe persecutions, and was much distressed at -the difficulty of doing anything for them. She even formed a daring plan -for carrying off one brave young girl from her relatives, and taking her -to a safe distance; and Miss Tucker was with difficulty dissuaded from -a scheme which others of longer experience knew too well might lead to -serious complications. - -Another, a wife, and also her daughter, were at this time in frequent -peril, because they had become Christians in heart, and were earnestly -desiring Baptism. The husband, a Muhammadan, would sometimes sit between -the two, sharpening a knife, and threatening to stab them. Once he -violently seized the daughter by her throat. Life with them must have -been one long unhappiness; yet Miss Tucker, after an interview with the -poor wife, could describe her as looking ‘_worn_, but so bright and -brave.’ - -In September she was at Murree, helping to nurse her niece, and to take -care of the tiny baby,--which latter occupation, she wrote, was ‘more -formidable to an old maiden Aunt than conversing in Urdu with a learned -Maulvi, or doing the agreeable to a Rajah, would be.’ - -Of the place itself she said: ‘Murree is not a cheering place to a -Missionary.... One sees numbers of Natives; but how is one to tell the glad -tidings? I feel like a doctor with multitudes of sick around him,--and he -cannot get at his medicine-chest. I have brought Urdu religious books; I -find no good opportunity of giving even one away.’ - -October saw her once more in the spot where she loved to be, writing -joyously home-- - - ‘Here I am, in my own Station again, and glad to be back. I - find that our little Christian flock has been increasing in - a very encouraging way during my absence. There was a nice - little round of visits to pay to Christian families.[86] Those - who had been last baptized I had never seen before to my - knowledge. A man of some forty or fifty years of age, employed - in the Government ----, who has been thinking on the subject of - religion for about nine years. For about two years he has been - going to some quiet place, when he had leisure, to weep and - pray. He appears now to be a very earnest and bold Christian. - At his own desire he was baptized in the middle of the city, in - a room set apart in the school.’ - -Very soon after Miss Tucker’s return came the death of a little Christian -Native baby; and the quiet Christian funeral was in marked contrast with -the wild wailings usual at Muhammadan funerals,--though some Muhammadan -lamentings were heard from one visitor present. - - ‘We decked the little sleeping form with flowers; a rose was - placed in each hand, a fragrant white Cross on the breast.... I - attended the funeral; so did a good band of Native Christians, - including our schoolboys. The cemetery was a Muhammadan one. - We must buy one for ourselves, as we are, thank God, a growing - body. I hope that in another month we may number fifty baptized - persons in Batala; and I have lately been writing out the - heading for a Subscription for a _Church_ at our dear Batala. - We have now only schoolrooms turned into Chapels. My list is to - lie on our table for visitors to see. Perhaps it will be one or - two years before we have collected enough; and by that time, - please God, the flock may have doubled or quadrupled. - - ‘It will be so--and more--if we go on at the rate at which the - Church has been growing. The bringing the Boys’ School here has - been a grand thing. The dear fellows, on the whole, set such a - nice example, and they seem so happy. - - ‘_Nov. 4, 1878._--I have come to Amritsar for a few days, for - the Confirmation, and had the pleasure of receiving your dear - letter of October 1st yesterday.... How can beloved St. George - send me such bad advice? I like his example better than his - counsel. What did _he_ do in time of trouble? Stick to his post - like a Tucker! Those of our Missionary family, with whom I have - spoken on the subject,[87] all agree with me that we should - never desert our flocks. What sort of army would that be, in - which all the officers ran away at sight of an enemy?... But take - no thought about me, dear one. Unless we meet with serious - reverses in Afghanistan, I do not see danger of a rising, - especially in the Panjab, where, on the whole, I think that we - are considered tolerable rulers. - - ‘And if there _were_ troubles, I suspect that we Missionaries - would run a better chance than other Europeans, we have such - numbers of friends amongst the heathen.... Just fancy--our - Bible-woman and her husband are actually collecting money from - Hindus and Muhammadans for our Church! A poor woman gave some - barley. If you were to hear all the polite little speeches, and - see all the smiles that pass between Missionary and Natives, - you would not expect us to be afraid. A Missionary in any case - should have nothing to do with fear,--it is dishonouring to the - Master. - - ‘My love, how can you think of sending me another dress for - winter? Do you think me so careless and extravagant as to - have worn out the graceful Grey already? I never take it into - a duli; I keep my faithful Green for such rough work. But if - a new winter dress is actually in hand, let me send you even - before seeing it a thousand thanks for it.’ - -FROM AN INDIAN CHRISTIAN, CONVERT FROM MUHAMMADANISM, 1878 - - ‘MY DEAR MISS TUCKER,--I received your kind letter, dated 13th - instant, and the newspaper yesterday. I am very thankful to - you. I read it many times, and it truly made me brave. I like - the piece of poetry you quoted very much. Every day I pray to - God to lead me in the right way. I think my prayer is heard, - for I do not feel so lonely as I did at first; but I get - fever nearly every day. I had gone over to Lahore on Friday, - and stayed there for Saturday and Sunday.... I remember you in - my prayers, and I hope you do the same. Now I will not feel - lonely. Please do not be anxious....’ - -C. M. T. TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Nov. 8._--If I were not a Mission Miss Sahiba, who should - never complain, I might give a groan or a grumble to the mice - and rats. They get into my almira, and what is even worse, - into my harmonium. I had a tin plate made for the pedal part, - expressly to keep creatures out; but they managed to pass it. - I have now had a second large one made, and hope that it may - prove more effectual. The creatures have bitten almost all - the red Persian away; to-day I found lumps of wadding in my - harmonium. “How could they have come there?” I asked of my - sharp kahar, V. I suspected the rats, but did not know where - they could have got the wadding from,--when V. suggested the - beautiful padded cover of my harmonium. Sure enough, the rogues - had bitten holes in that, and pulled out wadding to stuff - into my harmonium, doubtless to make a comfortable nest for a - family of young mice or rats. I tried a Batala trap; it was of - no use: I have bought an Amritsar one, and Mera Bhatija has - bought another; but the rats, I fear, will not be much thinned - in numbers. We try to get a weasel, but have not succeeded yet. - But things might have been much worse. The rats never try to - eat _us_!’ - - ‘_Nov. 14._--I do not think that I told you of two Christian - fakirs, to whom I was introduced at Amritsar. They were very - badly clothed, fakir-like, but--especially one of them--had - pleasing, sensible faces. I suppose that they wander about, and - lead a kind of John the Baptist life. How curious such a style - of Christian would appear in old England!’ - - ‘_Nov. 20._--I have been wanting--wanting--my English letters, - expecting them these four days. At last here they are, and such - nice dear ones.... - - ‘I shall much like to hear what you think of my sweet Margaret. - I doubt whether she will be in good looks, she has been so - sorely tried by her dear Mother’s illness, and the struggle in - her own mind,--longing to come to our help, yet unable to do - so! I feel for her. - - ‘I think that dear Emily benefited little or not at all by her - trip to the Hills. She _ought_ to go home in the spring,--after - more than six years’ work,--so ought Miss Fuller; but neither - can leave till they fairly break down; for there is no one to - take their place.... - - ‘You think, love, that by September 4th “the most dangerous - season was over.” Far from it! September is, I think, the most - dangerous month in all the year in the Panjab. Very hot, and - full of fever. My hardest pull up-hill since I came to India - was, I think, in September. You have had the heat then for so - long, you have less vigour, and the air is so unwholesome. - Sickness all around. - - ‘How good you are to send me another dress! My graceful Grey - still looks very well. I consider it rather a company dress, - and have my Green for the Zenanas, which are sometimes _so_ - dirty! I am wearing it now, for the weather is becoming very - cold. It is rather amusing to see our Panjabis come in for - Morning Prayers, about sunrise on a sharp morning. There is P. - with a red comforter round _head_ and neck; J. is wrapped in - his white blanket. Poor Babu Singha, with a cold of course, - is wondering how the big room below is ever to be kept warm. - Mera Bhatija and I are going to change our drawing-room. The - northern room is far the best in summer; but in winter we - escape to the southern, and what was our guest-room becomes our - sitting-room. There is actually a fireplace in it!--and the - sunbeams stream in.... - - ‘Instead of spending the long winter evenings in solitary - grandeur upstairs, I now come down and make one of the - cheerful party in the schoolroom. It is much less distracting - to be amongst a score of boys than you would suppose. I and - some of them have been trying the vitre-manie (?) for our - Chapel-window. Yesterday I brought down my chess-board and - challenged the boys, and fought P., R., and I. C., one after - the other.... - - ‘On Sunday evening we sing hymns for ever so long together, - just like one huge family. The boys never seem to quarrel, or - say one spiteful word of each other. We have just had two new - boys; one is an Afghan; so we shall have the sons of Christian, - Muhammadan, Hindu, and Afghan, (by race,) parents all together.’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_Dec. 13, 1878._ - - ‘This evening as Mera Bhatija has gone to Amritsar, I asked - three of our lads to tea.... After tea I taught the lads “Cross - Questions and Crooked Answers,” and showed them my splendid - bubbles and my chatelaine, which were greatly admired, and my - photograph-book, a great treasure to me. But what gave perhaps - more amusement than anything was the Beaconsfield handkerchief. - I was so glad to get some photos at last.... My visits in the - city were interesting. Dear B--n’s troubles have re-opened his - mother’s Zenana to me. She even paid me a visit here. I do not - see any inclination in her to become a Christian, however; - she says that I shall go to Heaven my way, and she hers. I - suggested the disagreeableness of 840,000 transmigrations; - but she did not seem troubled. Perhaps she hopes that she has - passed through a few hundreds of millions already.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Dec. 23, 1878._--“I shall go to rest to-night nestling under - my Laura’s love, and I shall rise very early to thank her,” - was my thought last night, as I got into my nice comfortable - bed, with her soft, light, warm quilt above me. And here I am - sitting by my blazing wood fire, long ere dawn, with that same - quilt like a shawl round my shoulders,--so comfy! Luxurious - Char! But, after all, I have not begun my thanks, and where am - I to end them? - - ‘Your wonderfully packed parcel reached me in perfect safety - yesterday. It was something like a nut, for it was rather - difficult to get at the kernel. So much careful stitching by - dear fingers. At last, however, the beautifully warm skirt and - quilt, and most exquisite cards, were fully displayed to view. - A thousand, thousand thanks! I have so _many_ things, such - goodly gifts, to remember my Laura by!... - - ‘Our Christmas festivities have already begun. Our house is - pretty full with Native friends. Perhaps the most interesting - is dear B., the once Muhammadan wife of a Christian Catechist, - and mother of Christian children, who was so sturdily bigoted - that she held out for thirteen years, before she would give - herself to the Saviour. But then she did so in her honest way. - B. was never a hypocrite; we respected her when she vexed us. - It was something for her to remain with her husband; for, - by Muhammadan law, baptism of husband or wife constitutes - divorce. Mera Bhatija told me of a curious case, which excited - much interest,--to Europeans it would excite much surprise. - A Muhammadan, who had, I suppose, read Christian books, was - travelling with some other Muhammadans, and was imprudent - enough to say that Muhammad wrought no miracles, and expressed - doubts as to his being really a prophet. The poor man happened - to have a rich wife, who, we may believe, did not care for - him. To _speak against_ the Prophet is enough to constitute a - divorce! The companions of the man did not let their chance - go of half ruining him. The case was brought into Court, and - an English judge was obliged to give a verdict against the - unfortunate fellow, who had expressed an honest opinion. He - lost his wife and her rich dowry....’ - - * * * * * - - ‘AMRITSAR, _Dec. 28, 1878_.--I am sitting with my sweet Laura’s - delicious quilt wrapped closely round my shoulders, for it - is warmer than a shawl; and I am up before the fire-lighting - period. Not being at home, I do not know how to light the fire - myself. - - ‘Our Christmas at Batala went off beautifully, and has, I - think, left a feeling of thankfulness on both Mera Bhatija’s - mind and my own. The following day we both came to Amritsar. - Yesterday was the grand opening of the Alexandra School. Mr. - Clark asked me to write an account of it for his report. I - did not like the task; it makes one feel so penny-a-linerish; - and one is afraid of writing to please this or that person, - etc.; but I could not well refuse, so I have been scribbling - something in pencil in the cold, which I mean to submit to dear - Emily’s criticism.... - - ‘Oh, I must tell you what a boon your Beaconsfield handkerchief - is! It gave much amusement at Batala, both to Europeans and - Natives; it is giving much here at Amritsar. I am engaged to - dine with the Clarks this evening; so I dare say that the good - Bishop, Archdeacon, and all will have a laugh over my puzzle. - On Monday I am to go to Lahore, and sleep a night at Government - House. I mean to take my handkerchief with me.... - - ‘Batala will present rather a contrast to bustling Amritsar and - Lahore. When I return, there will probably be no European but - myself there for days, as Mera Bhatija must be absent at the - Conference till the 6th.’ - -So ended the third year of Miss Tucker’s life in India. She had now -thoroughly settled down to her own especial work in Batala. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -A.D. 1878-1879 - -EARLY CHRISTIAN DAYS IN THE 19TH CENTURY - - -It is clear that Charlotte Tucker was profoundly impressed with the sense -of living, as she said, in the First Century, instead of the Nineteenth. -In another letter, soon to be quoted, she describes her Batala experience -as ‘being carried back to the days of the Apostles.’ - -For in Batala the complex conditions of modern life, the intricacies -of Nineteenth Century Christianity, were absent. Here in England it is -more or less the correct thing to be in some measure religious, to be at -least nominally a Christian. People are on the whole expected to go to -Church,--or, if Dissenters, just as much to go to Chapel,--and though the -going to Church, as a matter of course, does not at all indicate the lack -of deeper reasons, of purer motives underlying, it does make the going a -very easy matter. So, also, a mother takes her little one to Church for -Baptism, again almost as a matter of course; often indeed with heartfelt -prayer and longing, but with no question of danger involved in the act. -It is a perfectly simple thing to do. More attention would in fact be -drawn by _not_ doing it than by doing it. - -At Batala, as in thousands of other Heathen and Muhammadan cities, things -are widely different. Sharp lines of demarcation are drawn between the -Christian and the non-Christian,--between the Church and the heathen -world around. It was so most markedly when Charlotte Tucker lived in -Batala. There, as in Early Christian days, was the great mass of those -who neither knew nor cared for the Names of God and Christ; and in their -midst was the Infant Church, a tiny body of brave men and women, who had -come out from amongst the Heathen and Muhammadans, to be known as the -servants of Christ.[88] - -And the step which led from the one to the other stood clear and defined, -with no possibility of a mistake. The marching-orders which our Lord and -Master issued were not _only_ to go forth and teach. Here is the fuller -version: ‘Go ye therefore, and teach’ (_Rev. Ver._ ‘make disciples of’) -‘all nations, BAPTIZING THEM IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, -AND OF THE HOLY GHOST; teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I -have commanded you.’ - -That was the great order given; that was the command which had to be -obeyed, whether at Batala or elsewhere. And however easy a matter Baptism -in England may be, it is no easy matter in the Panjab for Converts -from Heathenism or from Muhammadanism. It is a step of overwhelming -importance. It means leaving the world of idolatry, ignorance, -superstition, behind, and entering the Church of Christ. It also means -too often leaving all things earthly that have most been loved. It means -persecution, beating, cruelty, hard words and harsher deeds. It means -wives separated from husbands, mothers separated from children, loss of -money, loss of the means of livelihood, danger not seldom to life itself. -It is the passing of the Rubicon. - -Again, in that Infant Church at Batala,--or, one may equally say, in the -Church at Amritsar, and throughout the Panjab,--we find reproduced the -various elements which existed in Early Church days. There are strong -Christians and weak Christians; there are whole-hearted ones and wavering -ones; there are the true and the false. What wonder?--when the very -foundation-stones of the Church of Christ included a Judas. Wheat and -tares will grow together until the end; and bad fish as well as good will -be caught in the net. The Church planted in a new place is seldom long -without her Demas, who loves this present heathen world, and goes back to -it again. - -But for one who is unfaithful, for one who turns his back upon the Light, -after seeming to be indeed a Convert, there are many who stand firm, -persevering to the end, despite difficulties, discouragements, and bitter -oppositions. These brave brown brothers and sisters of ours, who are -still in the fires of persecution, from which England has been so long -delivered, deserve our warmest sympathy. - -In giving the story of Charlotte Tucker, and of the growth of the Church -at Batala, with which she was so intimately associated, it is of very -real importance to show frankly both sides of the picture,--the dark -side, as well as the bright; the cloudy as well as the sunshiny. There -were of course disappointments as well as encouragements. There were -goings backward as well as pressings forward. Missionary life is no -more one of unbroken success, even at its best, than any other kind of -hard-working life, with a high aim before it; and to present it as such, -by omitting to describe failure side by side with success, would--and -often does--produce only a sense of unreality. The story of the Church -throughout the ages has always been a chequered tale. - -Hard as Miss Tucker toiled, she had not the delight of seeing many -individuals won to Christianity through her own efforts. Results of what -she did, still more of what she was, were visible enough to others,--but -rather in the shape of a general and widespread influence than in the -shape of conversions directly due to her labours. The worth of any work -can never be truly gauged by the amount of success which may appear to -follow within a given time; and to measure the extent or the effects of -her loving influence, alike among younger Missionaries and among Indian -Christians, especially among the boys in the Baring High School, is -utterly impossible. - -No less impossible is it to measure the results of her years of toilsome -work in Zenanas. Some here are disposed to assert freely that she -accomplished very little. One Native Christian, sending a few slight -memoranda, goes so far as to say: ‘I feel sorry to have to add that she -signally failed as a Missionary, if by that term is meant the preaching -of the Gospel to the heathen of India.’ A very great deal more than mere -preaching is, of course, meant by the term; but in any case this would -be a most rash judgment for any man to venture to pass, were he English -or Indian. No _man_ could have entrance into the scores upon scores of -Zenanas which she visited, to test for himself the effects of her work; -and we all know what hearsay evidence is worth. Even if he could find -entrance, he would have no Divine power to see into the hearts of the -people there. The fact that she herself saw few results says nothing; for -the best results are often slowest in appearing. Judging from apparent -results is always a defective and a shallow proceeding. - -From beginning to end she never so far conquered the languages of North -India as to speak them with ease. Grammar and construction she might -and did to a considerable extent master, but colloquial fluency was not -in her case attainable. Still, though she never became actually fluent, -it is a matter of unquestionable fact that she did both understand and -make herself understood, despite occasional verbal mistakes. There are -testimonies from all sides which abundantly prove this. - -Her mode of working in Zenanas was peculiar to herself; and though she -always held to it, she did not put it forward as a model for every one -else to imitate. She made no attempt at systematic instruction, probably -feeling her knowledge of the languages unequal to the task; and this in -itself was a drawback. ‘In point of fact,’ as one says who was associated -with her, ‘she never considered herself as a teacher, but rather, like -St. John the Baptist, as a “voice crying in the wilderness.” Her visits -were almost always short,’--though to this rule there were evidently -exceptions,--‘she seems to have gone in, greeted the people, given her -message, and taken courteous leave. She always deprecated any attempt -to judge of her work by the number of Zenanas on her visiting list; and -indeed it would not be fair to do so, as she did not undertake regular -teaching in them.’ - -Zenana-visiting was only one portion of her work; regarded by herself -as the more important portion, but not necessarily the more important -because she thought so. We ourselves are poor judges of the comparative -worth of the different things which we have to do. She was also a warm -and true friend to the Indian Christians, entering into their trials and -difficulties, throwing herself into their interests, doing her utmost -to help them onward, to lift them upward. In this direction she had a -remarkable degree of influence; and in her intercourse with them she was -absolutely without pride, she was full of kindliness, consideration, and -affection. - -With the schoolboys, as already seen, she was in her element. The -old spirit of fun, the old devotion to games, were invaluable here; -neither having faded with increasing age. One of her dharm-nephews, Dr. -Weitbrecht, writing about the High School in Batala, says:-- - - ‘From this time for years to come Miss Tucker was a mainstay of - the Boys’ Boarding School, teaching the elder boys the English - language and history, taking a motherly interest in all their - pursuits, writing for them Batala School songs, inviting them - in the evenings to little social entertainments, enlivened by - parlour games; visiting the sick, comforting the home-sick - new boy; mothering the young convert, who had been sent to - Batala not less for spiritual shelter than for instruction; - and upholding the hands of workers in the School and Mission - generally; besides carrying on without fail her regular - visits to the town and villages, and her literary work for - publication, both in England and India.’ - -One of the former schoolboys, now a Native surgeon in India, Dr. I. U. -Nasir, writes on the same subject:-- - - ‘Her good influence on the young minds cannot be overrated. Her - Bible Classes were eagerly looked for and well attended,--it - may be, for the sake of lozenges and bits of cake which she - distributed at the end, but also for the interest she made - everybody feel in the meeting. She would begin by asking the - verse and subject of the morning sermon, and the various points - of interest worth remembering. This led to the habit of closely - attending to the sermon.... Then every one had a choice of a hymn - to be practised for the evening services of the week; a short - verse of the Bible was repeated; and Sunday enigmas from the - Bible were solved.’ - -And also with reference to social week-day evenings:-- - - ‘She amused us with stories, comic songs, historical anecdotes, - making anagrams, giving riddles to be solved, and several - amusements of the kind. Many an evening was spent in Miss - Tucker’s drawing-room, playing various indoor games, of which - chess and word-making and word-taking were her favourites. In - the latter game she would consider it a great triumph to have - made such long words as “Jerusalem artichoke.” But she took - particular delight in showing her old scrap-album to any one - who desired to see it. Many an interesting incident was dropped - in connection with her relatives, as she turned leaf after leaf - with her old slender fingers. She never got tired of this. Then - she would select good scenes from Shakespeare, whom she called - “The Poet of Conscience,” and give us lessons in recitation and - acting.’ - -Charlotte Tucker had a profound belief in the good _moral_ influence of -Shakespeare. She is said to have greatly wished that the Indians could -have the benefit of Shakespeare translated into their Native languages. - -In addition to the Baring School boys, she had a never-failing interest -in the lads of the Mission Plough School, started mainly by herself, and -afterwards endowed by her with the sum of £50 a year. She constantly -visited there, and taught the scholars, knowing many of the older boys -by name, and asking them from time to time to pay her Sunday afternoon -visits. - -Moreover, outside all these occupations, A. L. O. E. was still an -Author. For some years, indeed, after her arrival in India she wrote for -India only, and not especially for England. When, however, it became -gradually clear that books suitable for Indian readers were not adapted -for England, she found time to accomplish separate volumes for home -publication. Some would say that her writings for the Native population -of Hindustan are by far the most important part of her whole Missionary -work. By her pen she could reach thousands, even tens of thousands, -where by her voice she could reach at most only dozens. Her tiny Indian -booklets, published by the Christian Literature Society at very low -prices, are among the most widely selling of the Society’s productions. - -It was only by an exceedingly systematic mode of life and endless toil -that Miss Tucker could get through what she did. She was always up -very early,--at 6 A.M. in winter, at 4½ or 5 A.M. in summer,--and her -day was carefully apportioned out. Six weeks’ holiday in the year was -permitted by the Society under which she worked, and she would seldom -take more than a month of this in the hottest weather, that she might be -able to get away for a few days at some other time, without infringing -on her full ten months and a half of work. Often part of her so-called -holiday was spent in looking after or in acting as companion to somebody -else,--or in undertaking work during the absence of other Missionaries -from their posts. The marvel is, not that after a few years she should -have grown to look older than she was, but that her health could in any -degree have stood so great and constant a strain. Few people in the prime -of life could have done and endured what she did and endured in the -evening of her days. - -Very early after her arrival in India, as stated in a previous chapter, -the Natives seemed disposed to credit Miss Tucker with an astonishing -number of years; but too much must not be thought of this. It arose from -the fact that a grey-haired English lady out there is a complete _rara -avis_--a sight seldom to be seen. Miss Wauton’s first impressions of her, -jotted down as follows, do not give the impression of a very old lady, -dearly as Charlotte Tucker loved to describe herself in those terms: -‘Tall, slight, with lofty brow, sparkling eye, face constantly beaming -with love and intelligence; genius in every look; figure frail and -fairy-like, agile and graceful; very brisk movements and light tread.’ -Hardly like a hundred years old! After a few years had passed she did no -doubt age rapidly. - -Mention has several times been made of Miss Tucker’s readiness to give; -and when one recalls the abounding generosity of her father, not to speak -of the story of her grandmother on the Boswell side giving away to a -beggar the last coin in the house, one can hardly be surprised at the -generous tendencies of Charlotte Tucker’s character. She had the gift of -liberality by inheritance; and she cultivated her gift as a matter of -principle. Giving was at all times a real delight to her. A quotation on -this subject from Mr. Beutel may well come in here:-- - - ‘Miss Tucker was always very liberal. Wheresoever there was - need or distress that she heard of, she gave substantial help - immediately. I well remember, for instance, after I had taken - over charge of the Boys’ Orphanage, one time there were between - thirty and forty boys to be fed and clothed, and no money left - in hand. As soon as Miss Tucker heard of it, she immediately - sent me £10; and I must confess such a blessing rested on that - money, that I never came into similar straits during the twelve - years that I had charge of the Boys’ Orphanage. - - ‘And again, before we settled at Clarkabad, there was a great - scarcity of grain, in consequence of the failure of crops among - the Zamindars. They had very little to eat, and no seed-corn to - sow. All wanted some help, and I had no money in hand.... When - Miss Tucker heard of it, immediately she sent us Rs.300; and - our greatest need was at an end. - - ‘Again, in 1889, when a dear friend of mine, Pastor and Teacher - in the United States of North America, with whom I had come - out to India in 1869, had decided to return to India as a - Missionary, in order to join and to help me in the multifarious - work at Clarkabad, and he found that the money in hand was - insufficient to pay for his and his family’s voyage from - Germany, and Miss Tucker heard of it, she immediately sent - me £100, with the direction to forward that sum to him, on - condition that he had not left Germany again for America. This, - however, had already taken place in the meantime, and the money - was returned to her. - - ‘Again, in 1892, after we had returned to Kotgur, where there - was a great scarcity in the district, and many poor people had - hardly one meal a day to eat, and Miss Tucker heard that I gave - relief work to some forty or fifty people, she sent me another - Rs.100.’ - -These are merely a few among innumerable instances which might be -quoted; though generally the gifts were so quietly bestowed that few or -none except the recipient knew about the matter. It was not, however, -only in money that she was generous. The very necessaries sent for her -own use, the very clothes sent for her own wear, would be given freely -away to the first person who seemed in need of them. Mrs. Hamilton, -learning something of this, at one time tried in despair calling her -gifts ‘loans,’ in the hope that they might be thus secured for Charlotte -Tucker’s own benefit. In later years, when a parcel arrived from England, -Miss Tucker would sometimes not allow her Missionary companions to see -what it contained, that she might feel more free to give away as she felt -disposed. - -The Rev. Robert Clark speaks of Miss Tucker as ‘an English Christian -Faqir,’--a curious use of the term, which he applies also to one or two -other Missionaries. The original idea of ‘Christian Faqirs,’ sometimes -referred to in Miss Tucker’s own letters, was of Native Faqirs, who, on -becoming Christians, kept still to their old mode of life, going about as -before, teaching Christianity instead of false religions, and not begging -any longer, but receiving a small sum for their support from Englishmen. -Mr. Clark, in speaking of A. L. O. E., doubtless uses the word in -reference to her peculiar mode of entering into Indian ways, Indian -customs, Indian thoughts,--as, for instance, sitting on the floor among -them, instead of on a chair, travelling in an ekka like them, and so far -as she was able living their life,--as well as to the rigid simplicity -and self-denial which she cultivated. - -After alluding to the manner of her earlier English life, and contrasting -it with the manner of her existence at Batala, where ‘two chairs were -placed on two sides of a table in a large and almost unfurnished room,’ -Mr. Clark continues: ‘Miss Tucker ate very little. She always told us -to tell her beforehand if we were going to see her, in order that she -might have something to place before us. There was then no railway; and -everything had to be brought from Amritsar once or twice a week. The -bread often became _very_ hard. She sometimes said, “Do try this piece; -it seems a little softer.” Her guests were thinking all the time of her -tender gums, and of her teeth which were no longer young.’ - -On first going to Batala Charlotte Tucker had had the idea in her mind of -inaugurating there a sort of ‘Zenana’ of maiden Missionary ladies,--a -close retreat, from which the foot of Man should be utterly and always -excluded. Probably this was part of her desire to imitate the ways of -Natives. Some judicious combating was needed to break her loose from it; -though when once a gentleman-Missionary had actually arrived, theories -went down before the spirit of hospitality. - -Once again it should be noted, that when in her letters she writes home -enthusiastically about all her comforts and luxuries, these descriptions -must be taken _cum grano salis_. She had not the slightest intention of -misleading anybody; but she was very anxious to put a brave face on the -matter; moreover, she was a Missionary Miss Sahiba, and she might not -grumble. Everything was for her right just as it was. But another side to -the question did exist. - -In the year 1879 Mrs. Elmslie, being at home, paid a visit to Mrs. -Hamilton; and one day she could not help remarking, ‘When I see how -comfortable you are here, and think of your sister, it makes me sad.’ -Her tone was almost reproachful; for she was mentally comparing A. L. -O. E.’s barely furnished rooms with the abundance of comforts in this -home. Evidently she thought Miss Tucker badly off, and wondered why her -friends did not assist her more. Explanations naturally followed; and -when she learnt the true state of the case, when she heard the amount -of Charlotte Tucker’s comfortable little income, she was astonished. -The manner of life steadily followed out was, in fact, no matter of -necessity, but purely a matter of principle. Miss Tucker counted a life -of rigid simplicity worthier her vocation as a Missionary than one of -greater ease could have been. She therefore kept to a certain sum of -money yearly for her own expenses, while giving much away in addition; -she made her clothes last as long as it was possible for them to hold -together; she had hardly any furniture in her rooms; and she refused -all luxuries, including some things which in India are commonly reckoned -_not_ luxuries, but absolute necessaries. - -The following particulars have been kindly supplied to me by Miss Wauton -and others. - -Her style of living, at all times extremely simple, was particularly so -at the time that she shared a home with Mr. Baring. She scarcely, indeed, -allowed herself even the most ordinary comforts. Her bedroom furniture -consisted of a native bedstead, a small table, a wardrobe and two -chairs, with a piece of thin matting on the floor, and one or two thin -‘durries.’[89] Always an early riser, Miss Tucker never liked her Ayah -to find her still in bed. When she first got up, she used to heat a cup -of cocoa with her little etna, for her ‘chhoti hazari.’[90] Miss Tucker -always disliked very much being waited on, and preferred to do things for -herself. She treated the servants very courteously, always addressing -the Ayah as ‘Bibi ji’; and any little thing offered to her at table was -accepted with a ‘Thank you,’ or declined with a ‘No, thank you,’ spoken -in English, as there is in Hindustani no equivalent for the expression of -gratitude. - -Together with her marvellous activity of mind and of body was seen a -wonderful amount of patience under suffering or discomfort. In the very -hot weather she would say to her companions, ‘Let me be the first to -complain of the heat’;--and of course she never did complain. She used to -ascribe her good health in Batala to the absence there of three things, -generally counted indispensable by Europeans in India. She had, first, no -_doctor_; she had, second, no _gari_; she had, third, no _ice_. The want -of the latter must have been a serious deprivation. The lack of a gari, -or carriage, was supplied by her duli, by the native ekka, and by her -own walking-powers. As for doctors,--she had, when ill, to go to them, -like other people, and to be grateful for their help. Doctors were not, -however, favourites with A. L. O. E. She was perhaps a little hard upon -them; since, on the one hand, she professed not to trust their skill; and -on the other hand, she looked upon them as rather cruel than kind, in -trying to keep her longer upon Earth, away from the Home where she wished -to be. - -Miss Wauton says:-- - - ‘All she had was put at the disposal of others. Every book sent - out was lent round to the different Mission circles, or in any - place where it might give pleasure or profit. She always had - some interesting book on hand, and kept her mind richly stored - with knowledge, being specially fond of history. She allowed - me once to be present when giving an English History lesson to - a class of Baring High School boys. I could have wished myself - one of them, to have had such teaching constantly! She was very - independent of intercourse with other minds, yet thoroughly - enjoyed social pleasures. I never saw any one so carry out - the precept--“Rejoice with them that do rejoice.” Nowhere - did she seem so much at home as at the wedding-feast; and no - wedding-party seemed complete without her.’ - -But though she could be the life and soul of a wedding feast--perhaps -especially of a Native wedding feast,--Miss Tucker was not in all cases -an advocate of marriage. The Rev. Robert Clark speaks of her as--‘jealous -of the marriage of any of our Lady Missionaries, especially to those -gentlemen who were, as she said, “outside of the family.”’ He adds: ‘In -her verses on the duties and qualifications of ladies for Missionary work -in India, the last couplet was, I think, as follows:-- - - “The Mission Miss Sahiba must single remain, - Or else she’ll step out of her proper domain.” - -A friend who married one of our Missionary ladies, and who was nominally -outside the Mission family, but who was and still is one of us, added the -words-- - - “And never will be a Miss Sahiba again!”’ - -This quotation from Mr. Clark lands us in another subject, and one of no -small importance. Charlotte Tucker, going as she did to India when well -on in middle life, looked upon herself as a possible Pioneer, a possible -example to others, and hoped that many more might be led to do the same. -But she was never under the delusion that anybody and everybody is fitted -for a Missionary life,--even granting the spiritual adaptedness. There -must be of course whole-hearted devotion to Christ, whole-hearted love to -man, and whole-hearted self-abnegation; but there must also be certain -natural capabilities, certain conditions of health and vigour. Beyond -all, there must be the Divine call to work in the Mission-fields. All -this Charlotte Tucker felt with increasing earnestness as years went on; -and she was often at pains to explain the kind of workers wanted out -there, to warn against the kind of workers _not_ wanted. - -Before giving extracts from the correspondence of 1879, two or three -quotations of different dates shall be given on this subject, beginning -with a letter written to a lady who had thoughts of offering herself:-- - - ‘BATALA, _Dec. 3, 1878_. - - ‘MY DEAR MADAM,--Hearing that you have some idea of giving - yourself to Mission work in India, I think that you may like - to hear the impressions of one who--after dear ones no longer - required her care--gave herself to that work. - - ‘I have now been for three years in India, and I have never for - one minute regretted coming. I do sometimes feel that there is - need of patience; one has a number of petty inconveniences and - annoyances, from which we are guarded in England. Whoever comes - out as a Missionary should pray for a brave, patient, cheerful - spirit, and a submissive will. But if these be granted, I - should say that the Missionary life is a very happy one. - - ‘There is a great charm in being carried back to the days - of the Apostles; for in an isolated station, like Batala or - Kulu, there is much to remind one of the First Century. Then - there is joy in the hope that one is putting out the intrusted - talents--be they few or many--to the best interest. One’s - time, one’s money, one’s efforts, seem to go further here. - I have often thought, “India is the place to make the One - talent--Ten.” The work is so very great, the labourers so few! - - ‘There is another thing which has intensely sweetened my - Missionary life. It is finding myself a member of the - Missionary Family. It has been said that there are no - friendships like those made in youth. It has not been _my_ - experience. I have no dearer friendships than those made in - advanced years. God has given me a number of new Relatives (I - call them dharm nephews and nieces), and the tie is as real as - that made by blood-relationship.... - - ‘In coming out as a Missionary, one has to devote oneself to - duties which are sometimes what would be called drudgery, and - leave the care of one’s happiness to the Divine Master, whom - we attempt to serve. He takes far better care of our happiness - than we can. - - ‘Allow me, dear Madam, to add another word. If you come out, - you should start _soon_, to avoid the heat of the Red Sea. As - regards outfit, you would find a tin-bath, in a basket-case, to - be used in travelling as a trunk, a great comfort here. It is - well to bring out a few pictures and pretty things; and, if you - are musical, your instrument. Medicines are very useful. Warm - clothes are requisite, as well as light ones. Cotton gloves are - a comfort in the season when kid shrivels and dries. - - ‘Not without a hope that I may one day welcome you as a - Sister-worker, I remain, dear Madam, yours very sincerely, - - C. M. TUCKER.’ - -In a paper written some few years later by A. L. O. E., containing a list -of things needed to make a good and serviceable Missionary, the following -are enumerated--as usual, symbolically expressed:-- - - ‘We need not dwell on the necessity of Faith and Love, which - may be represented as Gold. To start without these would be - presumption worse than folly.... And so with the only less - valuable metal, Silver--Knowledge. It is self-evident that such - is required.... - - ‘And a great deal of Steel is needed ... some physical, and, - above all, _moral_ Courage is required. Nervous weakness of - character is undesirable at home; it would be a grievous - misfortune in India.... A Missionary should claim the Christian’s - privilege of fearing no evil.... - - ‘The old saying is, _Nothing like leather_.... What I would - symbolise by Leather is a capacity for encountering _drudgery_, - something that will bear the strain of daily and often - monotonous work.... Give us tough leather, such as harness and - straps are made of; no romantic sentimentality, but steady, - resolute Perseverance. - - ‘Another useful article is a _Letter-weigher_, by which I would - represent Sound Judgment.... There is special experience required - for work in a foreign land. It has often occurred to my mind - what a blessing in disguise it is that Missionaries have to - toil to acquire a new language; such delay giving them time to - learn something of Native character, manners, and ideas. If - language came by intuition, we should make many more blunders - in other things than we do now; and such blunders are numerous - enough already.... - - ‘Another necessary must not be forgotten--a _White-covered - Umbrella_, representing Prudence regarding health. The white - cover is specially mentioned, symbolising the pure desire to - economise health for the sake of God’s cause, without which - mere prudence would be of very minor value.... - - ‘Only one more necessary I would mention, and it may provoke - a smile: Be sure to bring a box of _Salve_, and not a very - small one either. When maidens of different antecedents, rank, - age, temperament, and--in minor matters--opinions, are brought - together in closest proximity, in a climate which tries the - temper, there is at least a possibility of some slight rubs, - which without the soothing ointment brought by the Peacemaker - may even develop into sores.’ - -TO ---- ---- - - _‘Feb. 19, 1879._ - - ‘I hope that good Miss ---- will _not_ leave her present field - of great usefulness for India. It is a sad mistake for those - with her delicacy of head to come out to the Panjab. “Panjab - heads” are proverbial. Our band is too small for any to be told - off as nurses. Very delicate workers should not come out to - this trying climate. For those whose constitutions are fitted - for it, the Panjab is a glorious field. It is a place where - the one talent may become ten. All sorts of gifts come into - use; aptitude in buying and selling; engineering skill; love of - music; a mechanical turn, etc., may be turned to such valuable - account. - - ‘It is _not_ a mere matter of preaching to the heathen. An - Infant Church has to be built up; openings are to be made for - converts, that they may earn their bread; churches have to - be raised with small funds and no architects, etc. A man who - can carpenter, garden, or put in panes of glass, may find his - knowledge most useful. A bold rider, a good shot, is at an - advantage here. - - ‘Missionary life is not just like what one fancies it - in England. We do not want bookworms so much as active, - intelligent, devoted men, who can turn their hands to anything, - and who, in addition to Missionary zeal, have plenty of _common - sense_. God grant that Cambridge may send us many such! Mr. - ---- is one; a very valuable man, though not gifted with - eloquence, nor quick at learning languages. He has a clear - sound judgment, and a power of adapting himself to varying - circumstances, and of undergoing drudgery.’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - _‘March 24, 1879._ - - ‘No, my dearest Leila, I could not in conscience urge poor - dear ---- to come out here. It would be cruel. Any one who in - England suffers from headache, liver, back, and uneven spirits, - I would rather entreat to avoid the Panjab.... She would be one - of the choice delicate palfreys, yoked to artillery, who break - down and give extra work to the already fully-taxed horses. If - you only knew what the illnesses of those _who ought never to - have come out_ have cost others as well as themselves!... The - Lord does not call _all_ His children to India. There ought to - be a certain fitness of constitution to dwell in a fever-land. - I am so thankful that I am not constitutionally liable to - headache, and that fever does not naturally cling to me. But I - walk warily, as one in an enemy’s country.’ - -TO W. F. T. HAMILTON. - - ‘_May 20_ (_probably 1879_). - - ‘Your dear Mother sends me delightful accounts of the devotion - of some of the Cambridge men, and their readiness to engage in - Missionary work, if they saw the way clear. Now, dearest Fred, - could there be a clearer opening than at Batala for an earnest - Christian man, whether in Orders or not? I am not thinking - of you, for I would not have any one subject to headaches - come to this feverish land; but I am thinking of your brother - collegians. Batala, for evangelisation, is a very central - point; no end of work might be done; and it is a hopeful place.... - - ‘But I will be more minute in particulars.... I am not writing - of one who wishes to become one of the regular salaried - Missionaries of our Society; but of one who has the means to - be an Honorary worker. Say he has an income of £100. He would - find at Batala a _home_,--not a very luxurious one, but quite - enough so for a Missionary. His £100 would be enough for all - his personal wants, unless he travelled much; and he might - keep a little horse, unless, like ----, he preferred spending - his extra rupees on something else. He could at once help with - English classes, if he chose to do so, and in the meantime - learn the language.... If he had a taste for shooting and - fishing, he would find means of gratifying it; and if he were - a good cricketer, it would add to his influence over our boys. - If he had any architectural skill, he would help us to build - our church. If he were musical, it would be a great advantage. - He might lead a very happy life, and an exceedingly useful - one. We are in such want of _men_; not mere bookworms, but - earnest, devoted, bright, active Christians, who can turn their - hands to everything, and help to mould the minds of our rising - generation. We want more St. Pauls!’ - -This chapter can hardly be better closed than by quoting Miss Tucker’s -descriptive lines as to the necessary qualifications for a ‘Mission Miss -Sahiba,’ already alluded to. They were written at Amritsar, as early as -the year 1876:-- - -RULES AND REGULATIONS - - ‘The Mission Miss Sahibas must never complain; - The Mission Miss Sahibas must temper restrain-- - When “sust”[91] pankah-wala won’t pull at the cane; - Must never be fanciful, foolish, or vain. - - ‘The Mission Miss Sahiba in dress must be plain; - The Mission Miss Sahibas must furnish their brain,-- - Of two or three languages knowledge obtain,-- - When weary and puzzled, must try, try again; - We cannot learn grammar by _leger de main_. - - ‘The Mission Miss Sahiba must know every lane, - Climb ladder-like stairs, without fearing a sprain; - The Mission Miss Sahibas must speak very plain, - Must rebuke and encourage, must teach and explain; - The Mission Miss Sahibas must grasp well the rein; - The Mission Miss Sahibas must not look for gain, - Though doctoring sick folk, like Jenner or Quain. - - ‘Let Mission Miss Sahibas from late hours refrain, - For they must rise early, and bear a hard strain, - Like vigorous cart-horses, drawing a wain, - That pull well together, when yoked twain and twain. - The Mission Miss Sahibas must work might and main, - And therefore good nourishment should not disdain,-- - Or danger is great of their going insane. - - ‘The Mission Miss Sahibas must topis[92] retain, - Must guard against sunstroke, to health such a bane; - And midst frogs and mosquitoes must patient remain, - Yes, e’en when tormented, must smile through their pain; - And, with courage like that of the knights of Charlemagne, - By Mission Miss Sahibas snakes should be slain. - - ‘The Mission Miss Sahibas should sow well the grain, - Dark babies should fondle, dark women should train, - And Bibis and Begums at times entertain; - Should smile and should soothe, but not flatter or feign; - And to usefulness thus they may hope to attain. - - ‘_N.B._--Let all Mission Miss Sahibas single remain,-- - If they don’t, they step out of their proper domain,-- - And can never be Mission Miss Sahibas again!’ - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -A.D. 1879 - -THE CHURCH AT BATALA - - -The annals of 1879 are as usual very abundant, and space can only -be found for a limited selection of extracts. Miss Tucker was much -distressed about the Afghan war; not because of any possible peril or -discomfort to herself, but because her judgment disapproved of it as a -whole, and also because of the sufferings which she knew it must entail -upon the soldiers. - -While the larger number of extracts given are, throughout her Indian -career, in reference to the work going on round about her, it must not -be supposed that her love for relatives and old friends, or her interest -in all that concerned them, ever for a moment waned. The letters teem -with loving words and messages; and every item of news from England is -received with delight. Her affections seem to have grown stronger rather -than weaker, through long separation. - - ‘BATALA, _Jan. 16, 1879_.--Mine own Laura, how could you write - regarding the little meeting, at which you and sweet Margaret - were, “Would you not like to be in my shoes at the time, and - hold your darling friend in your arms?” I would much rather - have been in _Margaret’s shoes_, and have held some one else - in my arms,--only for the wrench that would have followed! But - O love, we are travelling in the same train, only in different - carriages; and I am thankful that though we cannot see each - other, we can as it were talk to each other out of the windows. - What a blessing the Post is!’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - _‘Jan. 20, 1879._ - - ‘Ours is not to be a village church, dear, but one in a city of - more than 25,000 inhabitants, where there are graceful mosques, - a large idol-temple, etc. A mere mud shed would be quite out of - character; our present room in a schoolhouse would be better - than that. There is considerable difficulty and expense in - buying a site. It ought to be _in_ the city. I have written to - dear ---- about one which Mr. Baring has seen, but it is very - doubtful whether the place can be purchased. - - ‘My nephew and I are both economical, and I think that you - and dear Fred may depend on money not being wasted in useless - decorations. But the sacred edifice ought to be of brick, and - pretty strong, not only to endure for years, but also to keep - out the heat. A tiny church would not cost much; one so small - that beams could reach from side to side. But if our Church - is to go on growing, as we hope and pray that it may, what - would be the advantage of having a tiny chapel, which would - not comfortably accommodate ourselves in a fiery climate, and - in which there would be no room at all for heathen spectators? - We should be wanting a _second_; and how could we procure a - second clergyman? Please thank dear Fred very, very much for - his kindness in collecting, and assure him that we wish to make - the money go as far as possible.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Jan. 31._--I sometimes think that it is well for me that I - have no one to carry cushions after me,--as the dear A----s - made the boys do in George Square,--or to watch my face to see - if I look pale. I have been enabled to make efforts, for which - I might not have thought my frame capable, and have kept my - health wonderfully. - - ‘This is the eighth day that I have not seen an English person! - Mera Bhatija has been away on duty; but I hope to have him - back to-morrow. I shall not be sorry to see him again; we are - becoming more and more like _real_ Aunt and Nephew. He wanted - me to go to Amritsar during his needful absence; but there were - strong reasons against that.... - - ‘As regards health, we are between Scylla and Charybdis. People - in India cannot help thinking a great deal about it, because - five minutes’ carelessness may wreck health for life; yet it is - a great matter for us, if possible, to keep from sinking to the - languid “cannot-do-anything” point. To rest there is something - like letting the head go under water. I often think of dear - Uncle Tom’s expression,--“Never say die!”’ - -TO MRS. E---- - - ‘_Feb. 4, 1879._ - - ‘My nephew, the Rev. F. Baring, has organised little relief - works; for, owing to drought, and partly to the war, there is - much distress in Batala. If you were here, dear Aunt, it would - interest you to walk about, leaning on my arm, and see poor men - in their rags, women and children, carrying baskets of earth on - their heads, to fill up that part of the tank which is nearest - to the house. It is a good thing for us, but a better thing - for the poor folk, who are thankful to earn their pice. Mr. - Baring intends also to give poor women in the city employment - in spinning, and to get a Christian native weaver to make the - cotton into towels or napkins.... - - ‘Both my nephews, Mr. Bateman and Mr. Baring, are very clever - in finding ways to start the Converts in life, giving them - means of earning an honest livelihood. One fine lad has a - place in the Woods and Forests Department; another is learning - work in the Press; a third is to be employed in a religious - book-shop; a fourth convert is doing profitable business as a - small wood-merchant. Another, who has a little money of his - own, intends to set up a small shop in his own village. This is - rather brave, as, only a month or two ago, he was driven forth - by his own family with threats and curses. It seems to me that - a very important part of a Missionary’s work is to watch over - converts after Baptism, both as regards body and soul. In the - Church, in the time of the Apostles, converts were not left to - starve. They must not be idle, but they must have the means of - earning their bread. We also greatly wish that every Native - convert should feel it to be his or her work to bring in others - to Christ.... - - ‘We intend to have a Fancy Fair in April, for the Church - which we hope to build; but the great puzzle will be to find - buyers,--Mr. Baring and myself being the only white folk in - Batala, and Natives generally disliking to spend money, except - on marriages, funerals, jewels, and sweetmeats.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_March 3._--I have another dear letter, to-day received, to - thank you for. You need take no thought, love, about where I - sit. We have benches in chapel; and as for my duli--to sit on - its flat floor does not hurt me in the least. I dare say that - dear E. never got into the way of it; but I take to it as a - duck to the water. The only difficulty is the scrambling out of - the box; but this does me no harm; it is wholesome exercise. As - for a carriage, it would be useless in Batala. I was regularly - blocked in to-day, even in my tiny duli. The streets are so - narrow and so crowded....’ - -TO W. F. T. HAMILTON. - - ‘_March 17._ - - ‘Our saintly Bishop, Dr. French, is now our guest.... We are - having such an interesting time, a heart-warming time! There - is to be a Confirmation to-morrow; and oh, through what fiery - trials some of the dear candidates have come! There is B--n, - ... the first man who dared to be baptized in bigoted Batala. - His Baptism cost him wife and child. There is the thin, worn - B. D., with his hair turning grey; the only Christian in his - village, he whom his own mother has reviled.... There is the aged - Faqir and his stalwart sons,--but I need not enumerate all. I - have told you enough to show what peculiar features of interest - may attend a Confirmation in India,--especially perhaps in - so thoroughly Oriental a place as this, where there are no - Europeans at all but my nephew and myself. - - ‘Ours is such a dear little Church,--I am not aware that there - is one really black sheep in it, though there are some infirm - ones. Ten women are to receive Confirmation. I think that - all but perhaps one have been converts from Muhammadanism or - Hinduism. I do not mean to say that they are all Batala people; - but Batala is a genial place to which converts seem drawn. - - ‘To-morrow, after Confirmation, we hope to spread, not the - _board_ but the _floor_, for a goodly number of welcome guests, - more even than we had at Christmas. One feels very thankful - to see such a nice large Christian family.... Of course some - Stations are more trying to faith; some of God’s servants have - to toil for years, and apparently catch nothing; but about here - in various directions one hears of converts and inquirers. - There is feeling of _life_ stirring among the dry bones.’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_April 1, 1879._ - - ‘Do you ever enter Trinity Church?[93] Probably not, it is so - far from you. To your sweet Mother and myself many memories are - connected with it. Weddings and Christenings,--the overflowing - pew,--the corner of it where we used to see the dear bald head - of our venerated Father!... - - ‘We have a dear young convert from a village, who, like others, - finds in Batala a refuge. A simple guileless lad, who likes to - come, as dear U. did, to sit at one’s feet, and have a talk - about God’s Word.... He does not know much, but enough to have - enabled the lad to resist temptation and endure persecution.... - I wish that dear ---- would take up the subject of _portable_ - Bibles in Persian Urdu. Even the children of clever Christian - parents are apt to be sadly ignorant of Old Testament - Scriptures. How much would English school-children know of - them, if they could only buy Bibles in three (Persian Urdu) - large volumes,--or in one (Arabic Urdu), very large and heavy? - - ‘It is not only the expense but the extreme inconvenience of - such bulky books that must be considered. Mera Bhatija has - English Urdu Bibles for his boys, but some read them with - difficulty; and we cannot expect a _nation_ to adopt a new type - utterly different from its own. There is a beautifully written - New Testament in Persian Urdu ... light, easily carried about, - and costing only half a rupee. This is a great boon; but we - want the Old Testament Scriptures.... They are at present almost - shut out from the people. Our great want is a complete Bible, - as delicately written out, and on as fine light paper, as the - New Testament, and not very expensive. Most of the Natives are - so very poor. I can scarcely imagine how they manage to live.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘BATALA, _April 20, 1879_. - - ‘Your dear, sweet letter received to-day was like a nice little - visit to me in my comparative loneliness. Mera Bhatija and Babu - Singha are both away at Amritsar.... If, when proposing to come - out, I could have been told that I should be all alone in a - house with thirteen Native boys,--my Ayah is absent from late - illness,--I should have been startled, perhaps half-frightened. - But these dear fellows do not worry me at all. I asked one of - them yesterday: “If I were ill, which of you would nurse me?” - “All of us,” was the reply. I thought that thirteen boys would - be too much for a sick-room; so--“We would take it in turns,” - was the second answer.... - - ‘Many thanks, love, for the two copies of the nice work - on Prophecies in the Old Testament. It ought to convince - any candid mind.... It might be valuable to English-reading - Muhammadans. But it is not at all necessary with them to - avoid the Blessed Saviour’s Name. Yesterday, in a Zenana a - bright-looking young woman exclaimed, not particularly apropos - to anything that I was saying: “Jesus Christ is the Son of - God.” “Beshakh!” (Without doubt!) instantly rejoined an older - Bibi. - - ‘Not that the offence of the Cross has ceased. The persecution - which dear ---- is enduring shows this. He has been beaten - five or six times; and I think that we shall have to try to - get his enemies bound over to keep the peace. Personally, I - am courteously, sometimes affectionately, treated. The poor - converts are those who have to endure hardness!’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_April 27._--I know that some of my dear ones think that I - must be very lonesome, with no white woman near me. But there - are three things to prevent this:--1st, The Presence of the - Master. 2nd, The feeling that separation of body is nothing - compared to separation of soul. My ties to loved ones in - England are _not_, thank God, broken! They do not depend on - mere space. 3rd, Real loneliness, as regards even this world, - is the want of love and sympathy. Some count my brown friends - for nothing in this way. I do not do so. They draw out one’s - affections, and respond to them. The heart does not shrivel up - in India, even when one lives in such an out-of-the-way place - as Batala.’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_May 1, 1879._ - - I am sure that your dear Mother and you would peruse with - interest Keshab Sen’s lecture, or rather the review of it - in the _Statesman_ which I sent home.... Keshab Sen was a - brave man, not only as regards the Hindus, but the English - officials, to say what he did. To aver that it is Christ’s - Religion--not our superior strength, wisdom, intelligence--that - holds India for us, is likely to give great offence in high - quarters. To say what this Hindu did of despised Missionaries, - a band of weak-minded amiable enthusiasts, if not something - more contemptible,--as the world thinks them,--showed moral - courage.... He has probably made a good many people, both white - and brown, angry. His cry, “Jesus alone!--Jesus alone! India - for Christ!” would find no echo in the large majority of - hearts.... - - ‘I suspect that there is an impression amongst some Europeans, - as well as Natives, that Auntie is very old. I have three times - heard the latter say that I am a hundred; and I notice that - in the last _Female Evangelist_ I am pronounced “advanced in - years.” To my mind that means at least seventy!!! I was guessed - to-day as eighty in a Zenana. But I must be thought a pretty - active old dame, to get up such steep stairs as I do.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_June 2, 1879._--Of course I cannot tell what God wills for - me. I do not intend to do anything foolish. I do not even let - my mind dwell _much_ on the joy of going to a Heavenly Home, - because it would seem selfish at present to wish to desert - others. I realise more the value of life below than I used to - do, and am thankful that at former periods God did _not_ fulfil - my wish to leave this Earth for a better. He is a poor soldier - who is always pining for the end of the campaign!’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_June 14._--I never felt so that the Word of God in my hand - was rejected, as in a Zenana to-day. When I came out, V., my - kahar, said, “You should not go to that house again. I was - outside, but I heard words that grieved me.” But I had two nice - Zenanas and a nice Native Christian home to balance. One of the - nice Zenanas was N.’s. He spoke almost like a Christian, before - his mother, grandmother, and handsome young bride. They all - seemed quite friendly.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_June 20._--Darling Laura, your sweet letter has arrived - since I wrote the first note. Would you fairly _kill_ me - with kindness? You have already done too much. No, my sweet - sister, I would never like to take your money for needless - luxuries,--of comforts I have many. Ice is not to be had, is - _not_ needed, and I hardly ever even think of it. We are much - better without a carriage; walking is more wholesome, and to - me more pleasant. I kissed the signature on the cheque--and - then--destroyed it! Forgive me! In about two years I have had - _three_ cheques declined; so you see that I have enough and to - spare. I am quite easy-handed, love; not at all in straits, - thank God.’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - (_Probably July 1879._) - - ‘I am engaged in a matrimonial affair. B., Mera Bhatija’s - Christian servant, having just been rejected by one woman, - solicits, through my Ayah, my good offices to find him a wife. - He bears a first-rate character, and would make an excellent - husband, but he has the single disadvantage of having only one - leg. I know that Mera Bhatija wishes B. to have a nice wife; - so--after consultation with one who knows the Orphanage maidens - well, and has an excellent judgment,--I have fixed on a jolly, - good-tempered girl, ... able to cook and scrub, and have written - a note to the Lady Superintendent, requesting her permission - for B. to pay court to C. C. is to be told of the lameness, - etc., and then if she too be willing, B. will be allowed to - have an interview with her. This interview decides the affair. - Both parties have a negative voice; both must be pleased; and - if so--the banns are published! This is the compromise between - European and Oriental ways of arranging marriages. I think that - Mera Bhatija takes a lively interest in the matter; and if the - marriage comes off, we should both like to have the wedding at - Batala. The people here ought to have the opportunity of seeing - a Christian wedding.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_July 29, 1879._ - - ‘I will give you another of my little Batala sketches. I am - sitting reading. Enters M., the tall one-armed Faqir (religious - beggar), who has been acting as Mera Bhatija’s pankah-wala. - He evidently wants to talk with me; so, seeing me willing to - listen, the tall fellow seats himself on the floor, and begins.... - - ‘The poor fellow had been thinking how he could earn his - livelihood,--he has a wife and four children, and of course - religious begging would be for a convert both improper and - unprofitable. “Pankah-pulling will last for but a short time,” - he very truly observed. His plan was to start a little school - in his own village. - - ‘“But could you get pupils?” I asked, knowing that the humble - converts are not kindly treated by their neighbours. - - ‘“I think that I could from the hamlets round.” - - ‘Then I inquired as to the poor Faqir’s qualifications for a - teacher. “I can read the Gospel well,” was the simple reply. - - ‘“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.’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_Nov. 29, 1879._ - - ‘Yesterday, at last, the cricket-match between our School - and the big Government School came off. We challenged the - Government School long ago; but they took no notice. Yesterday, - however, a match was arranged between our Christian School - and the Government one, which is about ten or twelve times - as large. We were much the first on the ground, and were - kept waiting for more than an hour. Most of our Eleven wore - red-checked flannel vests, but R. the captain had a becoming - grey one.... At last the match commenced; but it was hardly worth - calling one. The Government lads could not hold their own in - the least! The whole Eleven only made 5 runs between them! - - ‘It was a very different thing when our boys took the batting. - It does one good to hear the thud from R.’s bat when he sends - the ball flying ever so far. He and S. made, I think, 87 runs, - and were never bowled out. The rest of our boys had no turns - at all; for the sun went down, and still R. and S., tired, but - unconquered, held their wickets. What is most pleasing is that - our boys did not crow as they might have done,--their opponents - were too utterly smashed. Had the contest been a close one, - there would have been plenty of cheering. - - ‘I really hope that it may do good for it to be known through - Batala that, in a manly game, the Hindus and Muhammadans - “cannot hold a candle” to the Christian boys, who go preaching - and singing hymns on Sunday! Piety is all the more attractive - from union with manliness. - - * * * * * - - ‘_Dec. 8._--Mera Bhatija intends to start a reading-room in - the city in 1880, with Bibles in various languages, books, - and some Native periodicals. The _Illustrated_--if you think - of continuing it--will form one of the baits. Many lads now - can read a little English; and the pictures will form an - attraction.’ - - - - -CHAPTER X - -A.D. 1880-1881 - -LOYAL AND TRUE - - -The series of extracts from letters, through the year 1879, given in the -last chapter, will convey a fair general idea of how many succeeding -years were passed. To quote with equal fulness from each year would -mean--not one comparatively small volume, but two large ones; and, -however interesting the subject-matter in itself, readers might be -expected to grow weary. - -Year after year Charlotte Tucker lived on in the old palace, which had so -strangely become her home, surrounded by the brown boys, whom she loved; -and by the spring of 1880 they had grown to forty in number. Year after -year she wrote little booklets for the Natives of India. Year after year -she persisted in her steady round of Zenana visits; not, like the average -district-visitor of England, going once a fortnight or once a week into -her district,--which was the whole city of Batala,--but day after day -giving hours to the work, never daunted because results seemed small, -never apparently even tempted to throw up her arduous task in despair. -She had to _plough_ for the Master of the harvest; and she was content to -leave results with Him. - -It must have been a monotonous life, viewed from ordinary standpoints. -Charlotte Tucker had had plenty of society in the past; and though she -might laugh at stiff dinner-parties or dull morning calls, she had fully -enjoyed intercourse with superior and cultivated minds. Some amount of -such intercourse she had still in the Panjab; but for months together, -as time went on, she was thrown mainly upon her own resources, was left -with absolutely no European companions. It is hardly within the bounds -of possibility that she should not have suffered from the deprivation, -cheerily as she received it. - -‘Missionaries in work are usually rather “yoked two and two,”’ she wrote -to an Aunt, in the beginning of 1880. Then after a slight allusion to -her successive ‘yoke-fellows’ at Batala, she adds brightly: ‘And I look -forward for the greater part of 1880 to going side by side with Babu -Singha, the converted Hindu Head-master,’--with kind mention also of his -wife and children. - -Friends might say what they would. Miss Tucker had advanced far beyond -the stage when it was possible to convince her that she ‘could not stay -alone’ in Batala. Mr. Baring had decided to go to England for eight -months; and no one else was free to join her in Anarkalli; but she -refused to desert her post. In fact, she would not be ‘alone’ there now, -as she would have been two years earlier. She loved and was loved by the -little circle of Indian Christians in the place; and the merry boys of -the household were very dear to her. None the less, her position was a -singularly solitary one. - -The frequent arrival of boxes from England afforded her never-failing -delight; partly on her own account, and yet more for the additional -facilities afforded thereby for giving away. Pages each year might be -filled with quotations on this subject alone. - -Also month by month fresh indications appeared of the reality of the -work going on,--an inquirer here; a convert there; an abusive Muhammadan -softened into gentleness; an ignorant Heathen enlightened; a bigot -persuaded; and now and again one coming forward, bravely resolute to -undergo Baptism, willing to face the almost inevitable persecution -following. All these things were of perpetual occurrence, and they lay -very near to Charlotte Tucker’s heart. - -On the 30th of January 1880 comes a pungent little sentence:-- - - ‘What fearful people the Nihilists are! When one reads of them, - one seems to see Satan let loose! There is some similarity - between India and Russia. Perhaps some years hence a Nihilist - crop may rise from tens of thousands of sharp conceited lads - whom the Government so carefully educate _without God_! They - cannot possibly all get the prizes in life which they look - for; they _won’t_ dig,--so will naturally swell the dangerous - classes. Such dear lads as we have here will be, we trust, as - the salt in the mass. But they may have a difficult work before - them.’ - -Two letters in February to two nieces must not be passed over. In the -first we have a glimpse of the dark as well as of the hopeful side:-- - - ‘_Feb. 2._--That most unhappy lad, ----, seems to be a thorough - hypocrite. Only a day or so after professing himself a true - penitent, and kneeling in seeming prayer at my side, he has, we - hear, been actually preaching in the bazaar here against the - Christians.... The subject is too sad to dwell upon; but it is - better that I should let you know at once, as I sent home so - hopeful a letter. - - ‘Fancy poor E. Bibi actually paying me a visit here yesterday - evening. The delicate creature longed to come. I told her to - ask her husband’s leave, and suggested that he had better come - with her. She asked me to send my kahar in the morning, and she - would send a message by him as to whether her “Sahib” consented - or not. The answer was favourable; so I made arrangements to - have two dulis at her door after dark, for E., her mother, and - her two little girls. I warned our boys to keep out of the - chapel, into which I first introduced the Bibis. I went to the - harmonium, and sang to it, “Jesus lives,” and two or three - verses of the Advent hymn, etc. While we were in the chapel the - husband joined us, sat down, and quietly listened. He was very - silent, which I think showed good manners. - - ‘We then all proceeded up our long staircase.... I offered tea, - but no one drank it; the children ate some pudding, and I - presented each of them with one of the dolls which your dear - Mother sent out, which I have had dressed.... I think the party - were pleased. I wonder what thoughts were passing in the mind - of that silent husband. He knows perfectly well what I visit - his wife for; for in Batala we do not hide our colours at - all. I sometimes think that dear M.[94] dashes right at the - enemy almost too boldly; but as she is a supposed descendant - of Muhammad, I dare say that her dauntless intrepidity has a - good effect. I do not find the women made angry even by what - must startle them. Of course one’s manner must be gentle and - conciliating, even when meeting the question, “Do you think - that Muhammad told lies?” with a simple straightforward, “Yes.” - - ‘I think that not a few Batala women do now believe that our - religion is the right one, and that our Blessed Lord is the - Saviour of sinners. But this belief may exist for years before - there is any desire for Baptism.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Feb. 6._--One visit which I paid in the former place - (Amritsar) would have warmed your heart. In a cottage in - the Mission compound, occupied by one of the Bible-women, I - found three who doubtless will inherit the blessing promised - to all who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake. There - was dear faithful Begum J., and her daughter, K. (now a - Bible-woman). These are the two who, as you may remember, were - threatened with a razor by Begum J.’s husband, and fled, and - were afterwards baptized. They had come to see another brave - Convert, who had been baptized on the previous day. - - ‘A fierce crowd had attacked her, tore the jewels from her - ears, beat her on the head, threatened to cut off her nose! - How she escaped she cannot tell; she was bewildered. Perhaps - some unseen Angel took her by the hand. She reached _somehow_ a - duli, which was in waiting for her, and was baptized the same - day.’ - -The school was so growing, that by March 1880 a good many of the boys -had to sleep on the floor which formerly had been reserved entirely for -Europeans. This Miss Tucker did not mind. - -Before the end of March she had to bid good-bye to her dharm-nephew, who -was starting for England. It must have given her a strange feeling, -thus to see one and another leave for the dear old country, which she so -loved, and yet which she had resolved never of her own free will to see -again. - -The previous day a feast was given in Mr. Baring’s honour, the boys -‘subscribing to buy the little dainties’; and ‘speeches of love and -gratitude’ being made. Then, in the early morning, long before dawn, Miss -Tucker felt her way down the dark staircase, to see the traveller off. -‘The babies,’ as she called some of the tinier brown boys, were there -also; one small orphan looking ‘sad and thoughtful’ over the farewell. -Bigger boys also came down, and they waited in the Chapel till the -Principal appeared. Shakings of hands were followed by cheers, as Mr. -Baring drove away in the dâk-gari,--‘probably with mingled feelings,’ -writes Miss Tucker. One is disposed to wonder what _her_ feelings were, -as she turned back into the palace; alone among her companions; the only -European in that Eastern city! Yet no signs of heart-quailing can be seen -in the letter to her sister, written on the same day. - -In this spring of 1880 came another event of importance,--the -‘Disruption’ of the older Zenana Society, under which Charlotte Tucker -had worked as an Honorary Member. - -There is no necessity to enter fully here into the causes which led to -that disruption. To some of us it may seem to have been, sooner or later, -almost inevitable. Until that date the attempt had been made to work on -what are sometimes called ‘un-denominational lines,’--which meant that -the Missionaries might be either Churchwomen or Dissenters, each teaching -according to her own convictions. A difficult programme to carry out, one -is disposed to imagine! After a while friction arose in the Governing -Body at home. Since by far the larger majority of workers in the field -belonged to the Anglican Church, it was rightly considered that the -Governing Body ought to consist of an equally large majority of Church -people; and on this point the split took place. The Society broke into -two parts. The one part remained more or less Dissenting; the other part -became distinctly and exclusively Church of England. Each Missionary had -to make her own decision as to which she would join; and Charlotte Tucker -at least had no hesitation in the matter. On the 12th of May she wrote:-- - - ‘Here I am at home again, after my strange little visit to - Amritsar; short, but by no means unimportant. All our five - ladies have crossed the Rubicon; they have sent in their - resignations, with the usual six months’ notice. It remains - to be seen whether the new “Church of England Zenana Society” - will or _can_ take them all on! We know not what the state of - their funds will be, as they begin on nothing. Our ladies, with - Mr. Weitbrecht the Secretary, seemed to have no hesitation as - to what course to pursue,--that of resignation.... I am very - desirous to know what dear Margaret Elmslie and Emily will do.... - How the complicated machinery of the Mission will work during - the strange interregnum I know not.... One expects a sort of - little--not exactly chaos, but--struggling along in a fog, for - the next six months; and then we shall probably see our way - clearly.’ - -On the following day she sent in her own resignation. Little more appears -about the subject in later letters. As an Honorary Worker her own -position was not affected, nor was her income placed in jeopardy; and -soon the new ‘Church of England Zenana Society,’ being warmly taken up, -was in full working order. Amongst those who joined it were her friends, -Mrs. Elmslie and Miss Wauton. - -At this time she was becoming very anxious for the return of Mrs. -Elmslie, who had been detained in England far longer than was at first -intended, by family claims. Sometimes a fear was expressed that Mrs. -Elmslie might never return; and no one else could fill her place. -Charlotte Tucker did not dream of the happy consummation ahead. Two or -three references to her earlier days occur in June and July, as if some -cause had sent her thoughts backward. - - ‘_June 4, 1880._--I think, love, that one gets into a kind - of social fetters. When we were young we had the worry of - a footboy at our heels,--it was thought suitable for our - position. (Do you remember dear Fanny’s lovely definition of - that word?) When I was in Edinburgh, dear ---- was surprised, - and I think a little shocked, at “my father’s daughter” going - in omnibuses. As if it were any disgrace to my father’s - middle-aged daughter to do what her precious princely Sire had - done a hundred times! O Laura, when one throws aside these - trammels of social position, one feels like a horse taken out - of harness, and set free in a nice green meadow. Our honoured - Father! what true dignity was his,--but how he shook off the - trammels! - - ‘To be mean and miserly is quite another thing. That dishonours - our profession. One should be ready to entertain hospitably, - and to pay for work done handsomely; there is a free hand and a - generous spirit quite consistent with economy.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_July 13._--Yes, love, we did intensely enjoy those concerts - in H. Square. I want you to enjoy more concerts. It is curious - how useful I have found my little music in the evening of my - days. I sometimes think of dear Mother’s words to me,--“Do not - give up your music.”’ - -In July, when Miss Tucker was congratulating herself that half the time -of Mr. Baring’s absence was over, a letter arrived speaking of lengthened -furlough. She was much distressed, fearing harm to the school, and for a -while was assailed by fears that perhaps he and also Mrs. Elmslie might -never return. Happily these fears were groundless; but plans were afloat -for some temporary arrangement while the Principal remained away. Miss -Wauton too was at this time taking her well-earned furlough in England, -and workers were sorely needed in the Panjab; while new untrained -Missionaries on first going out could do little. ‘We want Margaret,’ was -the burden of her cry; to which was now added, ‘We want Mr. Baring.’ - -For herself she had no thought of a furlough. Friends thought of it for -her; and she put the idea resolutely aside. Writing to Mrs. Hamilton on -September 6, she said: ‘And now for a more important subject, broached -in your sweet letter. I do not feel that it would be either wise as -regards myself, or right as regards my work, to go home next year. The -great fatigue of two journeys, the excitement of meeting loved ones, -and the wrench of parting again,--I doubt how my health could stand -it. As regards the work--I need not expatiate. It would look as if I -thought much of the little that I could do; but little is better than -nothing. It seems to me that one of the most useful things about me is -that--hitherto--I have stuck pretty close to my Station. If I were a -Native Christian, I think that I should be tempted to hate the very word -“going home,” and to regard Europe as a trap for my Missionaries. Let -them, if possible, have a _restful_ feeling in regard to at least one old -woman, whom they are ready to love.’ - -And a few days later to Miss Hamilton, on September 14:-- - - ‘Your sweet Mother threw out a suggestion about my going home - next year; but it seems to me, love, that if I did so,--unless - circumstances change,--I should deserve to be shot as a - deserter. Even if I were to become blind or paralytic, I - believe that it would be well to stick to Batala. I am the only - apology for a European Missionary here; and, curiously enough, - my very _age_ is an advantage. What might be a great hindrance - elsewhere is rather a help here.’ - -In a letter of September 14 occurs a passage about apparent success or -non-success in work. She had perhaps comforted herself from time to time -with such thoughts as follow. - -Speaking about a certain American religious book, which had been lent to -her by one who greatly admired it, and about Mr. Bateman’s opinion of -the same volume, she observes: ‘What Rowland most objected to was the -American affirming that if you take certain means to effect conversions, -the result is as sure as harvest following breaking up the ground. As -Rowland says, we cannot even break up the ground without God.... Are we to -conclude that ---- and ---- are truer workers than dear ---- spending his -strength in breaking stones at K., while the sheaves almost drop into the -reapers’ arms at D.? Did our Blessed Lord Himself, Who was always sowing -golden seed, reap a very large harvest during His Ministry? St. Peter’s -first sermon drew in a far greater number than all the disciples of the -Blessed Lord before His Resurrection put together.’ - -It was evident that, although she must have felt her lonely position, -she was gradually becoming used to it; even so far as not at all to -wish for a strange young lady as a companion. Mrs. Hamilton had made -strong representations to the Society at home of the need of a helper at -Batala; and the letters given next seem to have been written partly in -consequence of this. - -As early as the spring of 1880 Miss Tucker could say: ‘I used to think -it rather tiresome when business took both my English companions for a -few days away; now I am quite serene if I do not see a white face for -months.’ And in November of the same year: ‘As to earthly blessings, they -abound; the Natives are my real friends. The Lord gives abundant grace, -and cheers me with His Presence; and I have such joy in the companionship -of my Bible, that I do not miss the society I should otherwise value. Do -not send a helper to me, when many other parts of India need it so much -more.’ - -Again, on September 27:-- - - ‘It is very loving in you to be so anxious for me to have a - lady-companion. But, unless a Missionary’s wife, one might far - from add either to my comfort or usefulness. To put aside the - possibility of her being eloquent,--a late sitter-up,--of a - melancholy or nervous temperament, or often ailing,--I really - have no spare space for a lady companion. She must share my - bath-room, if not my bedroom; and in India this would be very - uncomfortable. - - ‘But why, you may say, should there be more room for a married - pair than for one maiden lady? The answer is simple enough. If - a _gentleman_ were here, the large family of the Singhas would - give up their rooms and move to the Banyans. We _must_ have a - gentleman Superintendent.’ - -Later in the same letter comes a reference to one of the Heroes of her -enthusiastic girlhood. Lady Outram and her gallant husband had been -intimate friends of the Tucker family; and many a loving message in these -later years was sent home by Charlotte Tucker to the former. - - ‘I have been reading much of the noble Outram’s Memoir to-day. - As far as I have gone, I think that the Biographer has done - his work well. The Outram of the book is just the Outram who - was the admiration of our girlhood,--generous, chivalrous, - noble! One feels how much pain that fine spirit would have been - saved, had he realised how little it really matters whether - good service be appreciated or not by man, if the great Leader - accept it,--if all be done as to Him Who never overlooks or - misunderstands! To our own Master we stand or fall; let earthly - superiors say what they will.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Oct. 16._--Dear, excellent ---- thinks that my not having a - “Revival” in Batala is because I do not study his favourite - author. You can hardly have a _Revival_ unless there has - been some life before.... Our work is more like clearing in - backwoods,--there are huge trees and boulders cumbering the - ground; not just weeds overspreading a garden that once was - a little cultivated. Then here women cannot read, and do not - choose to learn.... I like Miss Havergal’s _Kept for the Master’s - Use_ so much. It is beautiful. But I do not feel with her that - it is possible on Earth to have our _will_ exactly _one_ with - God’s. Even the Blessed Saviour made a distinction between “My - Will” and “Thy Will.” Dear C. T. T., for instance, submitted - sweetly to her heavy trials; but it could not be her _will_, it - was her _cross_, to lose all her nearest and dearest, and see - her father ill for so many years.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Dec. 15, 1880._--Dear Mr. Clark’s return has caused so much - joy. The Native Christians have had a loving address to him - printed in letters of gold. I fancy that a general feeling - is, “Now there is a hand on the reins.” ... Mr. Clark is an - experienced and skilful driver. True, he is very weak, but he - brings _brains_, and a power of organisation. If he were a - prisoner to his room he might be very valuable still.... He was - sadly missed....’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Dec. 17._--_Please_, love, make no plans for bringing ladies - to Batala. It is so awkward to me to have to explain to nice - enthusiastic ladies that they cannot come. This is not a place - except for elderly or married ladies. If Mera Bhatija would - bring out a nice wife, it would give much pleasure; at present - plans and propositions only--I must not say burden me--but they - do not help me. I do very well as I am; I have had, through - God’s goodness, a happy year; and if I were to be ill, I would - _rather_ be doctored by our Sikh, and nursed by our Natives. As - for visitors, we have hardly any except in the cooler weather; - and a little packing then does no harm.’ - -Of the following extracts to Mrs. E----, only two of which are fully -dated, all probably belong to about this period:-- - - ‘_July 23._--I saw to-day a sight which perhaps never met your - eyes in India, and which I never wish to see again; though - it was not without something of melancholy beauty. On Sunday - towards dusk I was with some of the boys, and they called - out “Locusts!” I looked up into the sky, and saw what my old - eyes would have considered harmless clouds high above me; but - the young eyes must have detected the motion of countless - wings. To-day there was no possibility of mistake. I was in - a Zenana, in the full light of day, gazing up at myriads - and myriads,--dark against white clouds, light against the - blue sky,--passing over Batala. They looked to me like God’s - terrible army; so strong; so vigorous; not one amongst the - millions appeared to be weary; not one did I see drop down - as if faint from long flight. They flew as if they had a - purpose; our fair green fields did not appear to tempt the - destroyers,--only I saw a comparatively small number in - one,--but they were clearly intent on going somewhere else. - Alas for the land where they alight! A Native told me that they - would probably come back again. How helpless is man against - such a foe! We can only ask for mercy, as Pharaoh did.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘KANGRA, _Aug. 21_.--I paid a visit to Kangra fort yesterday; - a grand picturesque place, holding a commanding position. The - officer in command had prepared tea and cake for me, and - the dear kind soldiers lemonade, so I was treated with much - hospitality. They do not often see a lady up there. I have - often thought of your dear M.’s words about the soldiers, and - her wondering at my feeling shy with them. They are some of the - pleasantest people in the world to have to do with.... While I - was taking tea with the Commander, the soldiers were concocting - a letter to say that they had collected _ten rupees_ to pay my - expenses, and hoped that I would soon come again. I certainly - do not want their money, poor dear fellows; and I mean to go - again on Monday. Soldiers’ money seems to jump out of their - purses of its own accord. In this the Natives are far behind - them. Four soldiers--I think in Afghanistan--are uniting to - support a little girl at the Amritsar Orphanage. They are - charmed with the idea. I had nothing to do with it, except - giving the Superintendent’s address. I have over and over again - received help for the Mission from English soldiers, and I - never ask them for it. Fine fellows!--and to think what they - have to suffer!’ - - * * * * * - - ‘BATALA, _Oct. 1, 1880_.--I was amused to-day at what my kahar - called out. I am quite accustomed, as I am borne along in my - little duli, to hear my bearers shout, “Posh! posh!” (Hide! - hide!), which is absurd enough, as if all must flee from my - approach. But to-day was too absurd. I was, according to - custom, walking to the city, with my kahars carrying my duli - behind. There was a rider in front, mounted on a horse inclined - to back. My attentive kahar, careful that the animal should not - hurt me, cried out, “Save the horse!”--as if, instead of its - kicking _me_, the danger was that a mild old lady approaching - on foot should demolish the unfortunate animal!’ - - * * * * * - - ‘BATALA, _Jan. 31, 1881_.--As I was engaged yesterday with a - party of our boys, I was interrupted by hearing that my poor - dear Ayah had been stung--bitten, as the people incorrectly - say--by a scorpion. I thought what could be done. I had - happily by me some ipecacuanha, sent to me in 1879 by my dear - kind sister, Laura, in case of such an emergency, and also - pain-killer, which she forwarded to me more recently. Armed - with these and a bit of tape, probably her present also, I - hastened to the compound, and found my Ayah crying with the - violent pain. She had already sucked the poor finger. I tied - my tape round it, anointed it with a mixture of ipecacuanha - and pain-killer, and gave some of the latter also internally. - My Hannah appeared to derive some relief, but had much pain - in the night. To-day, however, she is much better. I have - never seen either scorpion or centipede in Batala; but then my - long staircase would present a formidable difficulty to such - reptiles.’ - -About this time, hearing the boys one day singing _The Vicar of Bray_, -Miss Tucker wrote fresh words to suit the old tune, and taught them to -her young companions. The second verse was curiously characteristic of -herself. - - ‘The rushing torrent bears along - The straw on its surface thrown, Sir; - But the rock in its midst stands firm and strong, - Although it stand alone, Sir. - Oh, may our steadfast courage so - In danger’s hour be seen, Sir; - And let the tide flow, - And let the world go, - We ‘ll be true to our Faith and our Queen, Sir!’ - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -A.D. 1881-1882 - -CLOUDS AFTER SUNSHINE - - -The greater part of 1881 passed much as 1880 had passed; Miss Tucker -continuing to live in the old palace, busy and happy among her Indian -friends, and cheery with the boys, having no second European within easy -reach. But in the spring came an unexpected joy. News arrived that her -dharm-nephew, the Rev. Francis Baring, was engaged to be married to her -dearly-loved friend, Mrs. Elmslie, and that the two might be expected in -Batala before the close of the year. Could Charlotte Tucker have had the -shaping of events for herself, for her friends, and for Batala, one can -well imagine that this is precisely what she would have chosen to take -place. In the opening of the year, however, she had no idea of what would -soon come. - - ‘_Jan. 5, 1881._--In looking over my records of 1880, I find - that in the nine, or rather eight months, of Mera Bhatija’s - absence,--as I was away myself for a month,--I have given - nearer seven hundred than six hundred teas to boys or young - men. The expense is trifling; it seems as if a couple of pounds - of tea lasted for ever; but all these little marks in my book - represent a good deal of innocent enjoyment, not, I hope, - unmixed with profit. All the boys, save two lately come, have - again and again sat at my table, chatted or played with me.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Jan. 11._--I was with a poor weeping Bibi yesterday. Her - heart was very heavy. She told me that her husband had forsaken - her; he has gone away and married another. When I asked her - in the presence of her companions who Christ is, she replied, - “God’s Son.” “Why did He come from Heaven?” “To save us.” I - wish that this forlorn one would throw herself on His love, - and come into the Church. I read God’s Word to another Bibi - to-day, who is in the same position,--desolate, forsaken, ready - to listen. A third case is somewhat similar. You would think - it comparatively easy for these forsaken ones to come out; but - even to them the difficulties are immense. Where the husband - is tolerably kind, the difficulty is next to insuperable; for - marriage by Muhammadan law,--and I have lately been shocked to - hear, by English law also,--is _dissolved_ by Baptism. This is - dead against St. Paul’s directions as to the duty of believing - wives towards unbelieving husbands; and you can imagine how it - complicates the difficulties of Zenana visitors!... If one would - express in one word the Missionary’s worst perplexity, I think - that I would put down the word “marriage.”’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Feb. 5, 1881._--I went to a wedding yesterday, one of the - silly child-marrying affairs, with which the Hindus delight to - ruin themselves and run into debt. Poor ---- quite agreed with - me that it is very foolish; but he and his relatives cannot - resist dastur,[95] so both my kahars receive next to nothing - for five months, to work out their debt to me. I had to do - rather a difficult thing for an old lady, in order to get to - the wedding-party, climb a real ladder--not very good--of eight - rounds. I am not as agile as I used to be, and had to go up - and up, and then down and down, very slowly and cautiously. To - parody Byron’s lines-- - - ‘“The feat performed I--boots it well or ill, - Since not to tumble down is something still....” - - * * * * * - - ‘_May 10._ - - ‘I thought that my birthday would pass over very quietly and - silently, as it fell on a Sunday.... But my Native friends would - not let me go without my birthday tamasha, merely delaying it - till the Monday. I could not regret it, for certainly it was - one of the most gratifying evenings that I have ever enjoyed. - We had our feast, given by the Singhas, on the top of their - house, with the glorious dark-blue sky as our ceiling, and our - lamp the beautiful moon.... I was presented with a Batala scarf - or chaddah, for which my dear boys had subscribed. A wonderful - chaddah it is, with borders of red and gold. I thought by - moonlight that the colour was grey.... In the morning I saw the - exceedingly gay _green_, of which I enclose a thread.... It is - precious to me, as a token of affection. - - ‘The Native Christians not unfrequently subscribe to give a - parting gift to a Missionary whom they love, when starting for - England; but I suppose they thought that, in my case, if they - waited for that they would never give me anything, and that - it was no harm to present me with something for _not_ going - away! Mr. K. was rather astonished at the wild bhajans, which - he declares are all on one note--but that is a mistake--but he - says that they helped to cure his earache; a very curious and - novel effect, which I never knew before to belong to a bhajan!... - - ‘I think, love, that these little particulars will amuse you. - I write playfully, but the real undermost feeling in my heart - is that of humble gratitude to Him from Whom all blessings - flow,--the love of true and God-fearing hearts being one of the - most precious of those blessings.’ - -TO MRS. J. BOSWELL. - - ‘_March 17, 1881._ - - ‘The Hindus appear to be particularly silly at this time of - the year. They throw about coloured water, so as to make - almost all the white dresses of their companions look dirty - and disreputable. My poor ---- came particularly badly off, - for he not only had three times his raiment dirtied, but his - hand rather severely hurt. Said I to him, “Do you think such a - religion is from God?” “It is devilish,” he frankly assented. - “A devilish religion; a devilish deed.” “Why do you not leave - it?” The poor fellow was silent. It is not faith in his - nonsensical religion that holds him back, but love of social - ties and surroundings.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_April 13._ - - ‘Our good pastor Sadiq and I had a long talk together to-day. - We two almost, as it were, form a little party by ourselves; we - are regular old-fashioned Panjabis, something like Saxons after - the Norman Conquest. Sadiq highly approves of this school, - because we don’t Anglicise the boys.... But the Anglicising - tide runs too fast for Sadiq and me. We get spoilt by Batala, - where there are no Europeans or Eurasians.... This is a grand - transition time in India; and the Conservatism, which I drank - in at old No. 3, remains in me like an instinct now. I would - keep everything unchanged that is not wrong or foolish--and - there is such a fearful amount of things that _are_ wrong - and foolish, that one might think that to get rid of them - would give all occupation sufficient. But I know that I am - old-fashioned, and live too much in one groove to be able to - judge correctly.’ - -TO MRS. E---- - - ‘_July 29, 1881._ - - ‘You have perhaps heard that I am to have a charming lady to - be with me; for my adopted nephew, the Rev. F. H. Baring, is - bringing out a lovely bride, one whom I know well, and whom - I have been accustomed to call my Queen-Lily, because she is - so tall and fair. I expect her to do Mission-work much better - than I can; and will not our boys love her! They seem to have - made up their minds that she is to be their mother; so she will - have a fine large family to look after, thirty-seven boys, or - more; some of them really not boys, but men. Rowland Bateman is - to perform, or rather, I believe, has performed, the marriage - service for his friend. We expect to have grand rejoicings here - on the arrival of the happy pair. It was a feast to see the way - in which the news of their Principal’s engagement was received - by his boys.... There was such clapping and delight, that you - might have thought all the boys were going to be married - themselves!’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Sept. 4, 1881._ - - ‘I visited to-day a poor mother who has lost a fine little - boy. I seated myself amongst the mourners, and talked with the - mother. What she said gave me a gleam of hope regarding the - child of ten. He had till lately attended our Mission School, - so of course had received religious instruction. He had the - opportunity also of learning something in the Zenana, and knew - Christian Hymns. His illness was _very_ short; and what he said - no one could understand; but, as his mother assured me more - than once, “_he smiled twice_.” This seems but a sunbeam to - build upon; yet as I have never known or heard of Muhammadans - or Heathen smiling when about to die,--the death-smile seems - exclusively Christian!--I cannot but hope that the dear little - fellow _had_ looked to the Saviour. I told the mother of the - hope in my mind, and spoke to the weeping little brother also.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Oct. 3._--It is a real pleasure to look forward to, that of - welcoming the Barings back, and placing the reins in younger - and stronger hands than my own. Not a giving up of work, please - God, but a lightening of responsibility. How often we say or - think, “Oh, we’ll leave that till the Padri Sahib comes.” He is - to do the thinking and ordering and arrangement in his little - bishopric. As for sweet, lovely Margaret, I expect to see her - gentle influence bearing on all sides. We are not likely to - disagree, unless it be on the subject of who is to sing first, - and who is to take the coveted second part.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘PESHAWAR, _Oct. 18, 1881_.--A large military station like - Peshawar is rather a contrast to Batala. But, poor India! - Where one sees less of the enemy attacking in one direction, - we find him advancing in another. Over the Hindus and - Muhammadans he throws the chains of Superstition, Idolatry, - Self-righteousness,--he makes them choose a murderer instead - of the Prince of Life. For the Europeans he has coldness, - deadness, infidelity! I noticed at Church that but _one man_ - stayed to Holy Communion.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Nov. 7._--I am so much stronger after my visit to - Peshawar,--quite a different being. It must be a comfort to - Babu Singha, who thought me ageing with wonderful rapidity. - But at Peshawar I took a backward spring. I was more than six - hours to-day on an expedition to the village of Urduhi, going - in my duli; and I was very little tired,--quite ready for Henry - VIII. and his six wives in the afternoon, and for Agamemnon and - Achilles in the evening. It is amusing to go back to the old - stories one read in one’s childhood.’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_Nov. 22, 1881._ - - ‘The visit of the two Bishops,[96] Mr. Clark, and the Chaplain, - Mr. Deedes, went off beautifully. Everybody seemed pleased - with Batala; and the Bishop of Calcutta wrote such handsome - things in the school-book, that I am sure dear Babu Singha was - gratified. The Bishop of Calcutta is a striking-looking man; - tall, with a simple, unaffected dignity.... He gives one the - impression of both physical and intellectual strength, combined - with true piety. As the vigorous, energetic practical man, he - forms an interesting contrast to the fragile-looking, saintly - Bishop of Lahore. Then Mr. Clark has a calm charm of his - own,--described by a lad as “looking like an angel, with his - beautiful white beard.” ... - - ‘Of course we had a feast. Then followed brief recitations - from Shakespeare, and choruses. To-day the school was examined - in Scripture, and pleased the Bishop. We had Divine Service, - and an interesting, forcible sermon, well translated, sentence - by sentence, by Mr. Clark. The Bishop of Calcutta afterwards - went over the place, examining the boys’ beds, etc., struck - at Native lads having such clean sheets, and at hearing that - they were changed weekly. He kindly visited our poor sick - M., who is much better, thank God, though still--after six - weeks--confined to bed. I gave my guests plenty to eat; and - my bottle of wine held out bravely, two of the gentlemen - preferring tea, while the wine-drinkers were very moderate. I - had to manage a little to make my furniture suffice for four - guests. There was a little borrowing, but not much. I put two - of your sweet mother’s lovely tidies, quite fresh, over chair - and sofa, to look elegant. I wore the pretty cap, trimmed with - blue, and my graceful grey dress, both gifts from No. 31.[97] - - ‘The Bishop of Calcutta, before leaving, kindly put into - my hand a note for 100 rupees. I asked him to what purpose - I should apply it; he replied to whatever purpose I liked; - so I at once decided on our City Mission School, our Batala - _Plough_, which has almost come to the end of its means, and - must on no account be suffered to drop through. I was very glad - of the seasonable supply. - - ‘Now all the boys’ thoughts are turned to the reception of the - dear Barings. The Natives take the whole affair into their own - hands, I merely helping by paying for the refreshments. I see - a wooden arch in course of erection, and hundreds--perhaps a - thousand--little earthen lamps cumbering our hall. Perhaps the - Bishops wondered what all those funny little concerns could be - for. There are to be fireworks too; but I have nothing to do - with either illumination or fireworks.’ - -Before the end of November Mr. and Mrs. Baring arrived, to be received -lovingly by Charlotte Tucker, and enthusiastically, not by the boys -alone, or even by the Christians alone, but by many of the people of -Batala. On the 9th of December a letter went from Mrs. Baring home:-- - - ‘MY DEAR MRS. HAMILTON,--I have but few uninterrupted minutes, - but long to send you at least a few lines, to assure you that - your beloved sister is well. She gave us a most delightful - welcome; and a very great joy it is to be with her. I thought - her looking extremely white and thin, although not lacking - in her wonted energy, when we first came. Now I think she is - looking a little better; and we shall tenderly watch over her, - and cherish her, so far as she will allow us; but I assure you - it is very hard work to persuade her to reduce her work, or to - increase her nourishment. I see that my best plan is quietly - to put things in her way that may be strengthening, but not - to trouble her by _pressing_; and to ensure soups, puddings, - etc., being all thoroughly nutritious, so that the amount she - does take may all do her real good. And as to the work, I hope - she will gradually let me have part of it, leaving herself more - time for writing. - - ‘You will be pleased to see how the people love and honour - her. The tahsildar[98] came one day to see us; and reverently - bowing his head before her, he asked her to lay her hand upon - it, and pray for him,--which she did, most earnestly asking - that Heavenly light might be poured into his soul. I think she - is very wise in her dealings with the Christians, but is apt - to over-estimate some of the heathen,--and to cast precious - “pearls before swine,” at too great an expense of her own - time and strength. However, I am perhaps mistaken about this. - We must pray that _all_ her loving efforts may be abundantly - blessed, and that she may be allowed the joy of seeing some - fruit of her city labours. Among the boys she has been _much_ - blessed. I hope to write often, if you will kindly excuse - my notes being hurried. Much love to dear Leila. Kindest - remembrances to Mr. Hamilton.-- Ever yours lovingly, - - MARGARET.’ - -One little touch of depression had appeared a few weeks earlier, in a -letter written before the visit of the Bishops, wherein Miss Tucker -alluded to a slight sketch or account of herself which had been inserted -in a Missionary periodical. The tone of sadness was probably due to those -long city labours, spoken of by Mrs. Baring, so few results of which -could then be detected. - - ‘_Nov. 16, 1881._-- ... Last Sunday was my sixth _Indian_ - birthday; it fell on a Sunday, like my natural one. In 1880 I - felt joyous on my Indian birthday. Somehow or other I had quite - a different sensation this year. I felt so dissatisfied with - myself,--my work seemed all sowing, and never reaping! Oh, what - a false impression the ---- gives of me! And Miss ---- never - published my refutation.... Do you remember the noble lines in - “Camoens”-- - - ‘“Praise misapplied - Is to the generous mind not callous grown - A burning cautery.” - - ‘I do not mean that I am burnt; but I feel like one breathing - an unwholesome, sickly odour. Here is the Bishop of Calcutta - wanting to see me; he has probably been reading some painted - description, and imagines me a highly capable and successful - Missionary. O dear! O dear! If Miss ---- had only published my - honest, blunt letter!’ - -For once in this little fit of down-heartedness, she seems to have -somewhat lost her usual balanced view of the comparative unimportance -of seemingly successful ‘results.’ But if in all these years of toil -Charlotte Tucker had never known depression, she would have been more -than human. Even her brave and dauntless spirit had occasionally to pass -under a cloud; more often, as years passed on, and strength decayed. -This time it had been a very slight one; and the coming of her two dear -friends had brought bright sunshine into her life. - -Early in the next year another letter went to Mrs. Hamilton from the -bride:-- - - ‘_Jan. 21, 1882._ - - ‘DEAREST MRS. HAMILTON,--I often want to have a chat with - you,--_so_ often! But now how impossible it is to go to the - bright, home-like drawing-room at Leinster Square to have it! I - must therefore just be content with pen and ink. - - ‘Your own beloved one writes so regularly that you hear all - Batala news; but you do not, I fancy, hear much about her own - dear self. She had certainly overdone before we came, and - naturally, after six years of such continuous effort, in a - climate such as this, she looks aged; but she is really just - as full of brightness as ever, and her spirit is unflagging - in its loving efforts for all around her. It is indeed a - privilege and joy to have her here. Just at present she has a - troublesome cold, caught by going out in the foggy morning of - last week; but I trust it will soon yield to remedies. She is - cosily resting in an arm-chair by the log-fire beside me, and - has allowed me to take a little care of her to-day. The Native - doctor comes every day to see the boys; so if anything is wrong - with her we have him upstairs, to have a chat and prescribe. He - is a very superior man, and she has great confidence in him. - - ‘She will have told you of the possibility of a Mrs. R. coming - out to join us as a Medical Bible-woman.... Not only would she - be very useful in the Zenanas, and in taking care of the - little boys, but also in taking a look-out for our dear one - when we are absent.... My husband thinks of adding a room and - dressing-room to The Aloes for Mrs. R. if she comes; so she - would be quite near us.... Dinner is announced, so I must say - farewell. The dear Auntie kindly consents to let a little low - table be drawn close to the fire in the drawing-room for her - to-day, as the dining-room is very cold in this weather.... - -C. M. T. TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Jan. 23, 1882._ - - ‘It was rather naughty in Margaret to tell you that I had a - cold; I did not know that she would be such a blab! However, - she is not an easy person to be angry with. I think that dear - kind Doctor, B. D., is quite pleased with me. He thinks that I - have done more in the way of getting well in twenty-four hours - than I should have done in a week had I been a Zenana lady, - because I should not have obeyed him. The Natives are so very - lazy about anything in illness which involves any trouble.... - Dear Margaret and Francis take great care of me,--coddle me!’ - (Then comes a pleased reference to the thought of the Medical - Bible-woman for the next cold weather.) ‘It was such an utterly - unexpected thing.... It is so nice to meet with a servant of a - true Missionary spirit. Of course she will need taking care - of herself. I told Francis that he should calculate on her - _pankah_ costing £5 a year. I do not need as much fanning as - some Europeans do; but I count my pankah as that expense; and - it would be folly to grudge it. You see, in the Panjab, if - you wish to sleep at night, you must have a pankah in the hot - weather even at midnight, unless you can sleep in the open - air,--which I find impracticable in a boys’ school; and I do - not see how good Mrs. R. could manage it.... - - ‘Aunt L.’s book is very amusing, even to a grown-up person; - there is such vigour in the attitudes, and the colouring is - just suited for Orientals. I think of taking it with me when - I pay my long-promised visit to Clarkabad. I hope to invade - the heathen there and not confine myself--please God--to the - Christian village. I feel a special interest in Clarkabad, on - account of my dear Rowland. The lovely little gem of a church, - partly the work of his own hands, gives a charm to the spot. - Now the presence of the excellent Beutels will add to it. - - ‘I expect to find some of the flock very troublesome folk; but - that is what Missionaries must expect. These big brown families - have their prodigals and sloths and backsliders. What is to be - expected from those who have had so little light for generation - after generation? We should hail every symptom of improvement. - The European idea of a Missionary standing under a tree, - preaching,--and numbers listening, understanding, and welcoming - the Word of Life,--is often a fancy picture, or gives a most - imperfect view of the truth. The seeking to _win_ souls is but - one part of the real work. - - ‘Only think what a regular workshop of thought has been going - on in the heads of such men as ---- and ----. _A._ is weak; how - is he to be shielded from temptation? _B._ is a stupid, lazy - fellow; how is he to be made to work? What is to be done about - _C._‘s heathen wife? Are not _D._‘s children growing up like - weeds? Can we manage to find employment for _E._ or a Christian - wife for _F._? It is this “care of the Churches” which was a - burden to St. Paul, and I suppose has been a burden to most - of his most earnest successors. It is not a thing to tell in - a Report, or to draw out enthusiasm in a Missionary meeting. - But we know, darling, that if a farmer went over a huge field, - simply scattering grain, perhaps on ground even unploughed, and - then went home, quite sure that all would go right, that he had - only to go on for ever sowing and a harvest would certainly - rise, he would hardly be likely to garner a crop.... _One_ such - matured, ripened Convert as ---- is worth a hundred of those - whose conduct shows that they hardly deserve the name of - Christians.’ - -In the course of this January she wrote lovingly to her sister: ‘It -touched my heart that you should have had “grief” in your dreams about -parting again with your Char! The wrench of saying “Farewell” is what one -cannot help shrinking from.’ - -But despite the pain of long separation from those whom she most loved, -and despite many cares and anxieties this year in her work, Miss Tucker -still kept her health. Mrs. Baring, writing early in February, could say: -‘I am so very glad to be able to assure you that your precious sister is -much better, really looking well; though perhaps not quite so strong as -in the days when she could easily outstrip me in a walk, or work from 4 -A.M. to 10 P.M. without feeling very tired.’ Few women at their strongest -could emulate such a day’s work, and not feel ‘very tired’ at the end. -It is hardly surprising that at the age of sixty she should not continue -‘_quite_ so strong.’ - -Money for the proposed Church had been flowing in; yet still it was not -begun. ‘We have been, I think,’ Miss Tucker wrote, ‘for nearly two and -a half years trying to buy a good site, but the Natives will not sell -one to us. We cannot build on air. We have the money--and the will to -buy--but we must wait God’s time.’ A little hospital also was planned, -but the same difficulties presented themselves as to a suitable site, and -delays were unavoidable. - -Here comes a melancholy little touch of the sad side of Missionary -work--that side which must inevitably exist in everything belonging to -this world:-- - - ‘Perhaps you sometimes wonder at my so often making the special - request for prayer for _wisdom_. But oh, love, if you knew the - puzzling cases which meet us! I observe that experienced and - sensible Natives are taken in; so can we wonder at being so? - I will just give you a specimen case where we have _not_ been - taken in, because warned in time. I have not even seen the - woman in question; I suppose that the parties found out that we - have had notice.... A woman professes, I hear, to be an inquirer. - She wishes baptism. Why? A Muhammadan man is at the bottom - of her inclination towards Christianity. The woman is of low - caste, so that the man would be degraded by marrying her, as he - desires to do. Let her become a Christian,--that will be a kind - of white-washing for her,--she will be received amongst us, be - able to eat with us, etc. _Then_ the Muhammadan is to pervert - her to the faith of Islam, and gain credit for converting a - Christian, instead of disgrace for marrying a Mitrani.[99] ... - We hope for more than twenty baptisms in C----, but Francis - is in no hurry to baptize, nor I to write to Miss ---- about - our hopes. I think that I have gained more experience in this - my seventh year than any other; and dear Francis has also - greatly added to his. One of the parts of this experience is - the finding out our need of wisdom from above. Only God knows - the heart! Do not suppose me dismayed, or that I cease to value - the dear Natives; but it is almost sad to me to see that - self-confidence which often arises from lack of experience.’ - -Miss Tucker might well have said ‘very’ instead of ‘almost’ sad. Certain -words in a letter of Mrs. Baring’s to Mrs. Hamilton, soon after, are -something of an echo to the above:-- - - ‘The blessing she (Miss Tucker) is among those Christian boys - is incalculable. Perhaps Eternity will show even more fruit - from her bright, loving, holy influence over them, than over - the people in the city. They are more able to appreciate her - character and teaching than the poor degraded heathen, to whom - she is much more like an angel afar off and above them, than a - sister-woman whom they may seek to follow and grow like. - - ‘She does love the boys, and is in her element among them; and - they have one and all a chivalrous admiration for her. These - years in India have taught her some things, I can see. Formerly - her purse was open to every one; now she has the same generous - spirit, guided by caution and experience. This winter’s painful - lessons in the fallibility of our best Native Christians have - been to her a very sore discipline, and to us too; but it is - really safer for us all to know exactly how far we dare trust, - than to be thinking those saints who are very far from it.’ - -A touching little episode about this time is related in letters from -both A. L. O. E. and Mrs. Baring. The latter had been much grieved by -quarrelling in one of the Muhammadan schools; and she told her Pandit or -teacher about it. He was a Sikh, who knew much of Christianity, though -not yet a Convert. The kind words which came in answer were certainly -not what might have been expected from a heathen. ‘But do not be sad in -heart,’ urged the Pandit. Satan is strong, but God is stronger. He will -hear your prayers.’ The speaker could surely have been heathen only in -name. - -In the end of May it became needful for Mr. and Mrs. Baring to go to a -cooler spot, leaving Miss Tucker in charge at Batala,--once more to be -the only European in that city. It seemed no great matter to her, and -she wrote as usual very cheerily about it beforehand. Little dreamt she -that this was to be a final parting; that she and her beloved ‘Queen -Lily’--her ‘Angel-friend’--would never meet again in this life! - - ‘_May 20, 1882._--The day after to-morrow my dear friends are - to leave me for the Hills. You must not be sad about it, for I - am quite happy; indeed, it will be rather a comfort to me for - them to go, sweet as is their society, and valuable as is their - affection. Francis stands heat so very badly.... Margaret too - loses her pretty pink roses, and gets so tired when she goes to - the city. On the other hand, _I_ am far fitter for work than in - winter.... It is a mistake in kind friends to pity me, or think - about _sacrifices_ on my part, for the lines have fallen to me - in a fair ground. Of course, we have things to trouble us; but - the blessings far, far outweigh the trials.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_May 23._--Dear Francis and Margaret started last night, the - young May moon and the stars shining beautifully. It was a - picturesque scene. The carriage had a lamp within it, as well - as one or two outside; the light gleamed on our crowd of boys - and men, mostly in white garments. Loud was the cheer when our - dear ones drove off.... - - ‘Well, love, I and our boys returned to Anarkalli. I did not - feel lonely. I went to bed under the swinging pankah; and - was ere long wrapped in repose. O what a startling waking at - about 3 A.M. What an uproar!--what a fierce sound of struggle - breaks on the silence of night,--the call for help--the whack - of blows,--it reaches Babu Singha’s ears at the Banyans, and - brings him in haste from his bed,--but not till the conflict - is over. I start up, and am at the window in a minute; but the - moon has gone down; there is only starlight; nothing can I see, - though much can I hear. I recognise the loud, manly voice of - G., our Christian bihisti.[100] I think that he is catching a - thief, and that the thief has the worst of it. Of course, boys - and men come running. I hear a call for rope,--yes, certainly a - thief must have been caught. - - ‘Presently a wee light is brought. I can see, almost below my - window, an object crouching on the ground, surrounded by our - people. They have bound him; they are examining his face. There - is a great deal of noise and talking for twenty minutes or - more; and then the robber is evidently led away, and I retire - again to rest. My heart beat no faster, but it certainly would - have beaten faster, had I known the extent of dear, brave G.’s - danger. When I came down in the morning, there was the robber, - in iron fetters, with his face all marked with blood,--with the - police around. He was crouching on the ground, a picture of a - ruffian, a miserable ruffian. - - ‘Babu Singha told me that there had been _five_ burglars; but - only two had ventured near the house. Our chaukidar[101] ... - gave the alarm. G. rushed to the rescue, and he and B. between - them, with some help from the dhobi,[102] succeeded in catching - the robber; but not without G. receiving hurts from his heavy - stick. Babu Singha told me that the robber is a very powerful - man. But, oh Laura, what gave me the greatest feeling of the - danger G. had been in, was being shown the razor which the - robber had had about him. It had been dropped. Thank God, - _that_ had not been used; indeed, I do not think that the - ruffian had been given time to use it. If he had, he might have - killed G....’ - -Two months of busy work followed; towards the close of which came another -adventure,--a robber again, but this time one on four legs instead of two. - - ‘_July 18, 1882._--Our palace was invaded by a wild cat. She - caught a poor pigeon in the south room, carried it through the - dining-room into my room, and left its half-eaten remains on - my floor. Another time she had the impertinence to crouch on - sleeping C.[103] A wild cat is not a pleasant visitor; her mode - of attack, if incensed, being to spring at the throat. So I - set a price, a moderate one, on the wild cat’s head. She came - again,--she was sure to do so to a house where boys keep pets, - and where she had already captured a pigeon. At night I heard a - battle-royal going on over my head. I did not rise; I guessed - that there was a furious conflict between the boys and the wild - cat. On the following morning I saw the animal lying dead, and - paid the reward.’ - -A few days more, and the bolt fell. News came that Mrs. Baring was ill; -and that her husband, away from her at the time, had hastened back, -to find her in a high fever. Then a rather better report arrived; and -Charlotte Tucker was so far cheered as to write to Mrs. Hamilton in much -her usual strain, hoping that it might prove to be ‘only a passing -indisposition.’ Before this letter was closed, tidings were received -that all was over. Erysipelas had set in, the fair face becoming -unrecognisable, and with little warning the gentle saint, so ready to -go, had passed away. It was a very heavy blow; and though Miss Tucker, -as usual, thought far more of what others felt than of what she felt -herself, the letters written afterwards show how much she suffered:-- - - ‘_Aug. 9._--I feel as if I did not care to write much save on - one theme. The enclosed letters, which you will read, will give - you particulars of the sad, sad event, which must have shocked - you much.... How little I dreamed, when I saw the two driven off - in the dâk-gari, while the moonlight fell on the picturesque - scene, that one, and that the stronger one, ... would never - return to Batala again! But the dear Lord knew that she was - ready. He does not call His children to mount up as on eagles’ - wings till the wings are fledged. - - ‘This is the saddest year that I have ever passed in India....’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Aug. 11, 1882._--My dearest Leila, I doubt not that both - you and your loved Mother have shed tears over sweet, sweet - Margaret’s loss,--or rather, our loss,--and that you have - tenderly sympathised both with my poor Bhatija and with me. - This has been a year of successive trials, not only to us but - to others in the Mission field,--a time to make us search our - hearts and examine our work. It seems almost as if my two - Scripture texts at present are, “Faint, yet pursuing,”--and - “Lord, we have toiled all night, and caught nothing, yet at - _Thy_ Word we will let down the net.” ... - - ‘It seems such an age before I can get a reply to any letter - addressed to Francis. Time goes _so_ slowly now! It is only a - week to-day since I received the startling news.’ - -The especial trials referred to, apart from the death of Mrs. Baring, -were numerous difficulties and disappointments among and with the members -of their little flock of Indian Christians. One trouble had followed upon -the heels of another. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -A.D. 1882-1883 - -THE FIRST STONE OF BATALA CHURCH - - -About the middle of August Miss Tucker went for change to Allahabad; -and very soon after her arrival she was able to speak of herself as -‘less tired’ than before leaving Batala; despite two nights of severe -travelling, inclusive of sixteen hours straight off in her duli. ‘The -change of air already tells on my bodily frame,’ she wrote; ‘and the -change of scene on my mind and spirits.... I was becoming low in every -way.’ Before the end of September she was back again in Batala; and there -she was soon joined by Mr. Baring, after his most sad absence. For a -while, but only for a while, Batala was still to be his home. - -In October for the first time the idea came definitely up of building a -‘Mission Bungalow’ in the place, an idea which afterwards developed into -A. L. O. E.’s last earthly home. - -It was also in the course of 1882 that some one wrote a sketch of her -life, and requested her to revise the same before publication. Miss -Tucker had not attained to modern composure on such questions, and she -wrote with indignation: ‘I am afraid ... neither you nor others may like my -note to ----.... I need not dwell upon the part about the little book; it -is too personal to myself. What would you think of a little book being -written about yourself,--and sent to you to _correct_? Oh! Oh!! Oh!!!’ - -For some time past Charlotte Tucker had been watching with great interest -the movements of the Salvation Army in India; at first with a disposition -to admire and approve, which tendency gave place gradually to strong -disapproval, as she saw more of the methods employed, and found the -exceedingly defective nature of the religious teaching given. - -Some very curious glimpses of Indian modes of life and thought, and of -the manner in which Miss Tucker dealt with them, appear in the letters -of 1882 and 1883, as will be seen in succeeding extracts. Among the -singular things constantly happening, an old woman in a Zenana, at -about this time, composedly offered to _sell_ to A. L. O. E. one of her -daughters-in-law. ‘If you will give me a hundred rupees, you may have -her,’ the old woman said frankly. Needless to remark, Miss Tucker did not -buy the poor girl! - - ‘_Nov. 17, 1882._--I had, I thought, finished my - Zenana-visiting to-day, when a man, at a loom in a room which I - had not entered, called out to me, “I wish a Gospel. I want to - compare it with the Koran.” He and the bibi wanted me to come - into their room; so of course I went and sat down. Says the - man, “I think my religion good. I want to compare our books.” - “Much better,” said I. The man brought his Koran, a translation - into Urdu, probably made by some Christian, or at least printed - in some Christian press. The good man treated me to such a long - reading of the Koran, page after page, I did not know when he - would stop! I felt it not only common politeness to sit and - listen attentively, but good policy also, for how can I expect - an earnest Muhammadan to give the Gospel a fair hearing, if I - will not even listen to the Koran? - - ‘The man was anxious that I should understand as well as - hear, stopping every now and then to translate a word that he - thought might puzzle me. But the Urdu was particularly simple - for anything doctrinal. To understand anything doctrinal, - even such sermons as I hear, it is absolutely necessary to - know _some_ Arabic words. I have written out more than two - hundred,--chiefly Arabic,--_all_ beginning with M, and mostly - three-syllabled words, which I feel that I ought to know; yet - they are hardly of any use with women; and if I have them - all at my fingers’ ends, I shall still be very imperfectly - furnished. Is it not a puzzling language? Of course, some of - these two hundred words are provokingly similar to each other, - but the meaning is different.’ - -In the same letter she mentions a visit from the Indian Christian Faqir, -M., who a quarter of a century before had given up a lucrative situation, -and ever since had wandered about India, preaching the Gospel. On 20th -November the same subject recurs:-- - - ‘His type of devotion is thoroughly _Hindu_, transfigured into - Christianity.... One part of our conversation, however, amused - me.... It was when we came on the subject of celibacy. The Hindu - evidently thought it better than marriage. He seemed to regard - it as an objection to the latter, that when a husband lost his - wife he would cry for two or three days!--the Faqir’s[104] - religion is a very joyful one, and when his eyes moisten it - is with religious emotion. I stood up for marriage. The dear - man is no stern ascetic; he smiled and half gave way, and said - that he liked people to be happy. It is pretty clear, however, - as regards himself that it is better for him to be unwedded. - He walks long distances; sometimes forty--fifty--sixty--miles. - He says that he is not so strong as he was. But he thinks - nothing of age; the spirit never grows old.... M.’s voice is - peculiar; one could always tell without seeing him whether he - were in chapel or not; for his “Amen” sounds like a note from a - bassoon.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Nov. 21, 1882._--While it is fresh in my mind I had better - give you a description of our grand day, the laying of the - first stone of our Church by the Lieutenant-Governor.... - - ‘Since the old days of the Sikhs I doubt whether Batala ever - saw such a tamasha. Numbers and numbers of boys were gathered - together by dear Francis, lining the roads, and cheering. Gay - looked the many-coloured turbans. Mr. Wade thought there must - be about one thousand boys, for we had Government School, - City School, our Village Schools, and our own boys. We had - a fine triumphal arch at the opening into our grounds, with - “Welcome” in gold on scarlet; but it was far surpassed by the - lovely one in Persian Urdu, prepared by our boys for the Church - site: “Him that cometh to Me, I will in no wise cast out.” - Dear Emily Wauton came and helped us greatly; she specially - took the luncheon-table under her care; and very elegant it - looked, with the cold collation, and plenty of flowers from - Amritsar. My bedroom overlooks our front door, so in this - room our three _pardah-nishin_ were hidden.... I dare say that - these poor prisoners[105] of pardah specially enjoyed what was - to them so novel. The good Lieutenant-Governor was more than - punctual; a happy thing, as we had much for him to do, and only - about an hour and a half to do it in. He brought with him his - daughter, a winsome young maiden, ... whom I called “dear” before - we parted. I liked the Lieutenant-Governor very much; a man of - fine presence but simple manners.... - - ‘The luncheon was preceded by the reading by one of the Batala - non-Christian magnates of an address, emblazoned with gold; - other Batala folk, some in very grand dresses, standing in - line. The Lieutenant-Governor gave a reply in English, which I - doubt whether many understood. Then we went to our collation; - fifteen sat down.... You should have seen our servant ----; he - was quite magnificent. He had on such a gold-adorned pagri - that it might have graced the head of a rajah, and had as - much gold on his dress. I did not think that he looked like a - Missionary’s servant, but we left him to enjoy his splendour. - I had thought, darling, whether I should wear _your_ silk - dress:[106] but no, thought I; in my Batala I will _not_ wear - silken attire; so I wore my Laura’s purple, which was just the - thing, sober and handsome. The collation went over nicely; we - could not linger at it long, and no one could drink too much, - as water was our beverage. After seeing the view from the roof, - we started in the borrowed carriages for the Church. The first - carriage, which held the Aitchesons, Mera Bhatija, and myself, - had highly conservative horses, decidedly opposed to progress. - No use coaxing and urging them; the “nat-khats” _would not_ go. - The only thing was to get out and go into another carriage. - - ‘Of course, there were many people at the site of our church. - We had four surpliced clergymen, my three nephews, Francis, - Mr. Wade, and Mr. Weitbrecht, and Nobin Chanda.[107] ... The - religious Service was very nice; of course, in Urdu. Then Sir - Charles[108] spread mortar over the place on which the marble - block was to descend, in what was considered a very workmanlike - manner. We sang “The Church’s One Foundation” in Urdu; Mr. - Weitbrecht’s and Mr. Wade’s fine voices making it sound so - well. Sir Charles made such a nice religious speech; it was - almost like a little Missionary address. _He_ had had, he - said, a very private conversation for an hour with a Native of - distinction, who was in concern about his soul; and it ended - by the Native saying that he had sometimes prayed to the Lord - Jesus, but would now pray to Him _every day_. Thank God for a - Lieutenant-Governor who thus shows his Christian colours! - - ‘We drove to the station, after again forsaking the carriage - drawn by the “nat-khats.”[109] Sir Charles made me come into - the railway carriage, to see its comfortable arrangements. - Thoughtful Francis had caused tea and cake to be taken to the - station. All went off so nicely; and my dear Bhatija feels that - he has not had his labour and expense for nothing.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Nov. 28._--In three days I am to go up to Amritsar, ... where - I am to sleep on that Friday night.... By some afternoon train - I shall probably then go to Lahore.... On Sunday there are to - be special services for the Conference, and Holy Communion - is to be administered; a meet commencement for a gathering - together of sisters from nine different Societies. But Char - has a special interest of her own. We have at least a dozen of - those who were Batala boys at Lahore.... I have arranged that - my boys should meet me on Sunday afternoon. This is to me one - of the most interesting parts of my visit to Lahore.... I have - been obliged to prepare two little papers, but have made them - mercifully short. I think that one takes about five and the - other three minutes to read aloud,--I timed the reading,--so no - one will have time to be tired.’ - -Of the above event Miss Wauton says: ‘In 1882 she came to a Conference in -Lahore, in which all the Zenana Missions of the Panjab were represented, -and was with one consent elected President of the Meetings. None who -were present could ever forget the tactful, graceful way in which she -conducted the proceedings. Many, I believe, felt that the harmonious -spirit, which prevailed in that assembly, was largely due to the loving -and Catholic spirit of our President.’ - - ‘_Dec. 15, 1882._--I have written to the ----s about the - Salvation Meeting at Lahore, at which I was present. I have - not told them, however, how sad an impression it left on my - mind.... To _me_ there was no real joyousness in the sound of - the drum and the tambourines.... The puzzle is to me how such - music CAN be the means of converting any, unless it be English - roughs. X.[110] was eager to join the “Army,” and go with them - for a month to Calcutta. But he went to the meetings, and his - wish appears to have evaporated; at least here he is.... The - prevailing feeling in my heart (at the meeting) was--_pity_. - Though I knelt, I really _could_ not pray. The big drum and - tambourines seemed to silence any whisper of real devotion - in my soul.... I think that I have just ascertained one thing - which has cooled our really devout X. It appears that he asked - ----[111] about Holy Communion, and found that he had not - received it since coming to India! Alas! alas! and if he lets - Natives consider themselves saved and sure of Heaven without - Baptism,--where will all end? The Blessed Saviour’s two clear - commands neglected! And ---- just killing himself to introduce - such a mere--one almost fears--shadow of religion! It is just - grievous! How inconceivably artful the Enemy is!’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Dec. 21._--I paid a visit to a village to-day. I first went - to the school, then paid my respects to the lady of the place.... - She showed me into a pretty bare room,--a chair was brought - for me afterwards. But I thought little about the room; its - strange occupants attracted my attention. I seemed transported - into the Middle Ages, and found myself amongst the retainers of - some bold baron,--men who looked like the stuff out of which - freebooters are, or were, made. There were four powerful men, - with four falcons; and the hoods of the falcons were grand. I - suspect that they were valuable birds, used for hunting. - - ‘I had an animated conversation with these burly fellows--not - the birds, but the men--if that could be called a conversation, - where the talking was almost entirely on one side. I had my - Parable of the Two Paths with me, and spoke very plainly about - Paradise and Hell;--and they listened to the old lady with - perfect good-humour. I dare say that the bold falconers were - rather surprised to find such an apparition in the village; for - they seemed to have nothing to do with Batala, where of course - my face is very familiar. - - ‘As I was returning in my little duli, I saw a bullock-cart in - front, with a kind of red, dome-shaped vehicle on it, which - of course contained some pardah-lady, perhaps a bride. I - noticed that the curtain was drawn back. Probably the prisoned - inmate of the red cage had caught sight of the duli, and was - curious to see its occupant. As my kahars went faster than the - bullocks, I passed the red cage, and a bright jewel-bedizened - lady--smiling, as if amused at seeing a white woman--exchanged - brief glances with me. I thought her a pretty creature. I - wonder what she thought of the old lady who smiled at her.’ - -[Illustration: _Taken at Amritsar about 1882_ - -_F. Jenkins Heliog Paris_] - -The New Year begins with a line from Mrs. Wade to Mrs. Hamilton, in -reference to the recent Conference:-- - - ‘AMRITSAR, _New Year’s Day, 1883_. - - ‘I wish you could have seen dear Miss Tucker as President of - our Lahore Ladies’ Conference. She did all so perfectly; one - only feared her being over tired, but I think she is stronger - than she was some months ago. We had the pleasure of her - staying a night with us on her way; and her walking powers are - wonderful! You will no doubt have a report of the Conference, - and of her solemn and helpful words on John xiii., as it is to - be printed in England.’ - -Although Mrs. Wade could speak of her ‘walking powers’ as ‘wonderful,’ -Miss Tucker had at this period hardly the same unvarying good health as -in earlier years. A few days later she was laid by with an attack of -‘shingles,’ with pain in the side. The Native doctor, called in, informed -her that nothing was wrong with either lungs or heart,--the pain which -troubled her being ‘simply from the nerves,’ which were ‘affected by -the eruption.’ Miss Tucker assured him that she was not nervous. Upon -which, as she relates, ‘the Hindu doctor smiled quietly, and gave me -to understand that nerves are real things. He had not meant that I was -fanciful. So the whole thing was simple enough,’ she philosophically -adds. ‘To make a bull, I had a little toothache in my side.’ The attack -gave way readily. - - ‘_Jan. 25, 1883._--One is so apt to feel for the poor, - down-trodden Muhammadan women, that, until I began to read a - novelette written by a Native, I had no idea how they sometimes - turn the tables on their husbands. I am reading the book with - N. N., who quite confirms the truthfulness of the picture. It - appears that a woman will sometimes be asked a question ten - times by her husband, before she vouchsafes an answer. Some - women burn the soles of their shoes, and make a preparation - of them to put on the eyes, believing that by this strange - superstitious means they will always keep their husbands _under - their feet_! With all the talk about Woman’s Rights, we have - hardly got so far as this!’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Feb. 20._--Mera Bhatija and I took rather a long walk - this afternoon, to look at a lovely little mosque. I had - said before to Francis, “How is it that the mosques are so - beautiful, and our churches here--unless expensively built--so - ugly?” Francis gave me a simple but good reason: “We want - people to go _into_ our churches; the Muhammadans worship - outside theirs.” You see, love, we have first to think of room - and comfort; so beauty gets shoved into a corner. - - ‘We went to look more closely at the graceful mosque, to see - if we could gain hints. I made a rough sketch of the front. - Francis says that it would be much too expensive for us to have - anything so ornamental. We want room for one hundred people at - least; and that dot of a mosque would hold comparatively very - few. Mera Bhatija thinks that we might indulge in two minarets, - and ornament our church with clay vessels turned upside down, - and painted white, with a little Cross on the top of each. We - must have a good-sized Cross, gilt, to glitter in the sun, on - the top of all.... The Cross is our Banner, the Sign of Faith in - the Son of God, rejected by Muhammadan and Hindu! It should - crown--and sparkle on, too--every religious edifice in this - land.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_March 8, 1883._--I had an extraordinary conversation with - a Muhammadan boy to-day. His name is Y. He lives in what I - consider a nest of bigotry. I am more likely to have to dispute - there than in any other place in Batala. I had with me, besides - my Bible, the “Mirror of the Heart,” which contains beautifully - coloured pictures of the human heart, with allegorical vices - represented by various animals, the serpent, rat, etc. It is - a valuable help to a Missionary. The first heart is that of - the natural man, before repentance; the second, that of a man - repenting. The fourth is a horrid heart, of a dingy colour, - with _a black cross_ in it, and seven devils, mounted on the - bad emblems, wanting to get in. It is the heart of a hypocrite. - Well, dear one, I was showing this picture in a Zenana, and - a grave-looking boy, to whom before I had given a portion of - Scripture, and who I think once studied in our Mission-School, - Y., was close beside me. When I had gone over the various - pictures, I said to Y., “Which of these hearts,”--showing the - first and second,--“is like yours?” I meant, “Are you repenting - or unrepenting?” The boy, perhaps fourteen years of age, would - not agree that either was like his. To my surprise he made me - turn over to the fourth heart, and told me _that_ was like his. - - ‘“But it is not a Muhammadan’s heart,” said I. “You see the - Cross is in it,--but it is black.” - - ‘“And how do you know,” said the boy gravely, “_that the - Cross is not in my heart_?” I think that he repeated this - touching question afterwards. In short, he kept firmly to - his declaration that _that_ heart was the one like his. What - is passing in that lad’s soul? Does he consider himself a - hypocrite, with seven devils surrounding him? If so, he must - be a hypocrite as regards Muhammadanism?--for he does not - pretend to be a Christian. I suspect that this may be the case. - He _has_ a cross, but it is a black one, because he does not - confess the Saviour. - - ‘There is a great change in dear ----‘s mother. (You remember - perhaps the dear lad in a bigoted home, who so loved the Lord - Jesus, bore persecution for Him, and died in peace.) My last - visit to that house was so different to the first! On the - first occasion I left the place so shocked, that I uttered the - exclamation as I went, “God have mercy on you!” I do not think - that I ever left any other house with such an exclamation on my - lips. The last time I left the house with the exclamation, “God - grant!” The mother had told me the story of her eldest brother, - a policeman, who, like her son, had become Christian in heart, - and incurred the fierce anger of his father by speaking - against Muhammad. A Suni[112] had stabbed the policeman in the - side with a knife; but the Christian refused to prosecute. - He was very gentle, just like the nephew who followed in his - steps. The policeman left Lahore,--this was more than twenty - years ago,--and has never been heard of since. Probably he is - numbered in the noble army of martyrs. - - ‘I said, “I think that both your brother and son are with - the Lord Jesus.” “_Without doubt!_” cried this once bigoted - woman. I urged her to follow them, and asked her if she had no - love for the Lord in her heart. “He is the Apple of my eye,” - she replied. You must not suppose, love, that there is any - immediate prospect of Baptism; but I talked to her about it; - and, as I have mentioned, left the house with a “God grant!”’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_March 24, 1883._--We cannot see one step before us! I was - thinking to-day, as I was going to the City, where my work - _seems_ of so little use, “Abraham had to wait for twenty years - before God kept His promise to him.” Perhaps it may be twenty - years before the promise is fulfilled--fully--to me, “Your - labour is not vain in the Lord.” - - ‘O the utter carelessness of some of the women, who will - interrupt the most solemn, heart-searching conversation with - a question about my dress, or a request for a pin. They seem - so utterly frivolous! Then those who do think, and have some - concern for religion, are such earnest Muhammadans; it is with - them a matter of _heart-love_! It is a mystery how it should be - so, when Muhammad was not only a murderer and profligate, but - has lowered woman altogether; but it seems especially the women - who delight in his false religion. They do not care for its - having no proofs; they _love_ it.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_March 28._--I had rather an interesting visit to-day, which - you may like to hear about. - - ‘I went to the house of a Maulvi ... I had books to take to his - sweet young daughter; and soon I found that the ladies had gone - to a wedding; but as two servants were in the house, I thought - it better to stop and give the “good news” to them. Whether - they cared about it or not, I know not. After my interview with - them, I was about to leave, when who should come in but the - master of the house, the Maulvi himself. (He is not the same - one who was so proud, that I could not help an unpremeditated - rebuke escaping from my lips.) This Maulvi was fresh from a - pilgrimage to Mecca; but the merit ascribed to a Haji did not - seem to make him proud at all. - - ‘He courteously addressed me, sat down, and prepared for a - _tête-à-tête_ with the Englishwoman. He told me that he had - none of our books; that he wanted a controversial one, that he - might compare the two religions. There was no appearance of - bigotry at all. He asked me whether we read prayers. I told - him that we not only had regular prayer, but that we sang - God’s praises,--which the Muhammadans never do,--and opening - my Bible, I read aloud several passages in which Hasrat David - (Saint David) commands us to do so. My gentle Maulvi made no - observation on this proof that Christians pay more obedience - than Muhammadans do to the commands of one whom _both_ - acknowledge as a Prophet.... - - ‘Accompany me now to another Zenana. A young man showed - himself again and again, as if he wanted to take a share in - conversation, but did not at first see his way to doing so. At - last he told me that there was great excitement. I could not - for some time make out what it was about; it seemed to be about - some birth; but then it appeared to be about something else. At - last the difficulty cleared up. The young Muhammadan made me - understand that it was said that the Imam Mahdi had been born; - and on account of this there was great excitement in H---- and - over the country. - - ‘I said that I had heard about a man, calling himself the - Mahdi, near Egypt. The young man did not seem to have an idea - _where_ the long-expected Imam is, but he said that when the - place should be known all would go to see him. My curiosity - was a little aroused. I asked what the Mahdi was to do. “To - reign over all kingdoms, and make every one Muhammadan.” “But - if they should not choose to be Muhammadans?” “Oh, all will - be Muhammadans.” “But if I did not choose to be a Muhammadan, - would he kill me?” “No, his rule will be like that of the - English.” - - ‘I would not trust the Mahdi, however, nor that animated young - man! This was the only Zenana in which I have heard of the - Mahdi; and I have visited plenty. I had more talk with the - Muhammadan. I said that I thought that the Dajal was expected - to come before the Mahdi. No,--the Mahdi is to come first; then - the Dajal; and then Jesus Christ! It is curious to hear these - ideas!’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_March 28._--I almost think that the Muhammadans are stronger - in their bigotry, from an expectation of some coming event at - the coming Ramazan (great fast) in July. Perhaps, some of them - think, there will be great pestilence; perhaps Christ and the - Mahdi will come;--and the sun rise in the west instead of in - the east. The more intelligent do not seem to expect the last - wonder.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_April 27._--The beautiful monument which Francis is going - to place over the grave of sweet Margaret was sent here - from Delhi. I have sent a sketch of it to her sisters, and - another to Mrs. Baring. I did not find it so easy to draw as - I expected, on account of the perspective of the three white - marble steps, which support the pure white Cross.... How little - we know who will be called! I remember my pleading with her - not to delay coming out, or she might find a Cross instead of - her friend. The white Cross has been for her, not for me; and - I see no likelihood at present of my soon being called, though - of course one never knows. I have seen so many young pass away - since I came to India.’ - -In the same letter she says with respect to the Baring High School: ‘I -hope and expect that our School has reached its lowest ebb,--twenty-three -boys, mostly little ones. There is some likelihood of six more coming.’ - -Mrs. Hamilton had begun to ask occasionally to her house in London young -Indians who had come to England for a Western education. Some of them she -saw repeatedly, and reference is often made to them in letters. - -C. M. T. TO THE REV. W. F. T. HAMILTON. - - ‘_June 19, 1883._ - - ‘Shortly after writing to your dear Mother, I had myself a - visit from a Muhammadan. I remembered what I had just been - writing,[113] so soon plunged straight into the subject of - religion. I had seen Sheik A. twice before; and the first time - had had a good talk. Yesterday he listened very well, though I - ventured to contrast Muhammad a little with the Blessed One. - Sheik A. agreed to his wife visiting me here this evening,--I - sending a duli for her, as she is “pardah-nishin”; and as he - is going to L----, he _asked_ me for a letter of introduction - to some lady there, that she might visit his wife. This was - encouraging. Sheik A. took a cup of tea with me, and we parted - excellent friends. Perhaps a couple of hours afterwards my - dear Faqir, M., came to see me. He too had been having an - interview with Sheik A. “Much excitement,” said the Faqir. I - think that the Muhammadan had probably not been as much on - his good behaviour with the dark Madrassee as with the white - Englishwoman. There seemed to have been a hot discussion below. - Dear M. was inclined to reproach himself. “Harsh!--my loud - voice!” said he. Depend upon it, he went at his work like a - cannon. But all seemed to end well. I think he told me that - Sheik A. and he shook hands as they parted.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_July 21, 1883._ - - ‘How different it is writing a free and easy letter to you, - from a studied one like that to ----! I hope that my Laura - will not consider Char a conceited old woman, who likes no one - to find fault with her writings. But, you see, love, I know - _nothing_ of Mr. ----‘s capacity to act as critic.... I cannot - consent to walk in chains because Mr. ---- has a liberal - hand and a full purse. I am so glad that I refused pecuniary - recompense. In writing I must be _free_. I hope that I have not - made a mistake in putting in as many proverbs as I have done. - It was difficult to select. How inappropriate--clever as it - is!--would it have been to put in such as this, “The sieve said - to the needle, You have a hole in your tail”!’ ... - - * * * * * - - ‘_Aug. 4._--Yes, love, I dare say that I was mistaken about - your entering on religious subjects soon with the young - Indians. I often doubt my own judgment. You see, it is a - disadvantage to me to have no one to correct me. This has been, - I think, my most lonely hot weather. - - ‘I am thankful that I do not hold the doctrine of - Perfectionism. I should be very miserable if I did; for - sometimes it seems to me as if I went backwards instead of - forwards. If I thought that a real child of God ought to be - perfect, I must come to the conclusion that I at least am not a - child of God. But I do not hold this view, and I see that the - holy Simeon wrote clearly and distinctly against it.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘ALEXANDRA SCHOOL, AMRITSAR, _Aug. 15, 1883_. - - ‘Here I am in this big palace, a good deal bigger than my - Batala one,--the guest of dear, loving Florrie.[114] ... - - ‘I have been taking my morning walk. I saw the old banyan - in the garden of what was my first Indian home with sweet - Margaret. The downward shoot which I named “Batala” has now the - size of the trunk of a tree.’ - -A visit of two or three weeks to her nephew at Dunga Gully followed, -where the children were a great enjoyment to her, letters home being -full of the pretty utterances of little Tudor and Beryl. On the 15th of -September, however, she once more gaily reported herself as ‘back again -in dear old Batala!’ and again the steady round of work went on as usual. - - ‘_Sept. 19._--A lady who knows a good deal about Muhammadanism, - and has read from the _Hadis_ (Muhammadan traditions), told me - something very curious that she had come upon.... - - ‘There is a supposed prophecy of Muhammad, that in the latter - days a marvellous being, called Dajal, will appear. He will - perform marvels, bring a band of musicians, and whoever hears - the enchanting sound will follow him, leaving friends, parents, - etc.... I, after hearing this, inquired about Dajal from ----. - He, having been a learned Muhammadan, of course knew all about - the prophecy.... Dajal, who will become a king, is to have but - one eye, and ride an ass nine coss (about fourteen miles) - long!... Dajal is supposed to be an evil being, drawing downwards - those whom he influences. After him the Muhammadans expect the - Imam Mahdi;--and then, our Blessed Lord. - - ‘What extraordinary ideas these people have of our Saviour! - They think that He never died, but was caught up to Heaven, and - some one else crucified in His stead. This is a true doctrine - of the devil, for of course it strikes against all belief in - the Atonement. It would drive us from the very key and central - point of our faith. Often have I tried to show how completely - such a doctrine is against prophecy. Well, dear, this is not - all. The Muhammadans believe that after our Lord comes again, - _to convert the world to Muhammadanism_, He will die! I have - spoken with one who has actually _seen the place_ where _His - future tomb_ is to be at Medina! It is near Muhammad’s grave, - and is considered a very holy place. There is a handsome black - marble slab, bordered with white, and fine palings around.’ - -TO MISS LEILA HAMILTON. - - ‘_Sept. 24._ - - ‘I have started to-day a temporary drawing-class for the five - poor little boys who have to stay here all during the holidays. - They are so pleased. It was a pleasure to me to see them - all seated, busy with pencil and paper, instead of lounging - about wearily. I did not succeed in making them do a bit of - carpentering for me. - - ‘The drawing lesson was a lesson to me, dear. After my own - fashion, it seemed to me a type, and--strange as it may seem to - you--a type bearing on the disputed subject of perfection in - this life. We are all children,--the sooner we realise this, - the better!--and the Lord sets us a copy; not a poor little - one, such as I placed before the boys, but a perfect, exquisite - one. Now, I imagine three of our boys drawing as nicely as they - can, and then coming to me with their copies. - - ‘The first is very happy indeed. “It is quite perfect!” - says he. “My dear child, _you_ may think so, but _I_ do not - think so. Take your measuring paper, and go over your copy - more carefully; and you will see that not all the lines are - straight.” - - ‘The second comes to me, crying. “I shall never manage my - copy,” sighs he. “It is not a quarter as good as the picture, - and yet I took such pains!” “Yes, dear boy, I see that you have - taken pains; and that is all that I require. You will do better - in time. But dry your tears. Did you really think that I should - be angry with you, because your drawing is not perfect?” - - ‘The third looks modestly into my face, to see if he has - pleased me. He knows that he has _tried_ to please me; and - though he has not succeeded in making a perfect drawing, he - _has_ succeeded in pleasing. - - ‘The third child is the one whom I should most wish to - resemble. He trusts me!’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Oct. 14, 1883._ - - ‘Do you ever note what is the first waking thought when - consciousness returns in the morning?... The other day my thought - on awakening was so very odd, that it made an impression by - its very strangeness. I could not imagine what could have put - it into my head, and you will smile when you read it. “_The - snuffers were of gold!_” I have not so much as seen snuffers - since I came to India.... Why on earth should my waking thought - be of them? “Well,” considered I, “snuffers are worthy of - mention in the Bible; and those in the Temple _were_ of gold. - What can I make out of this thought?” - - ‘Then it occurred to me that the office of snuffers, humble - enough, being to make candles brighter, the office was - emblematical perhaps of that which St. Paul adjudged to the - aged women. They were to teach the young women to love their - husbands, etc. At last I began to think, darling, that perhaps - my place in the Church here _is_ a little like that of a pair - of snuffers; and now, when I feel that I ought to give a little - word in season to Native Christians, I fancy that I have to - snuff them--not _out_!--O no!--only to remove some little - superfluity.... - - ‘I think I must have amused my Laura with my idea of the - snuffers; but it may be a useful thought to those who - are no longer young. A little gentle snuffing may be the - work--unostentatious work--given to us.... What a snip dear H. - gave to W. long, long ago, and how the fine boy admired her for - it!... But then the snuffers were of gold. No one likes to be - snuffed by coarse iron ones. - - ‘What a pity that I have no one to snuff me here! Were we - together, it would be your office, love. I have to act as my - own snuffers, and take hints never intended to be hints, like - noble Tudor’s--“I must do my duty.” He had no idea that he was - acting the part of a tiny pair of gold snuffers. I may almost - say that I have taken these snuffers up, and have been snipping - away with them at our young Natives ever since. No mortal could - object to such a miniature pair. - - ‘_Oct. 16._--Do not think, from what is written above, that, - as I grow older, I think it well to grow more censorious. If - I have grown in anything this year, I think that it is in - knowledge of my _own_ errors and mistakes. I sometimes feel - quite disheartened. I do not think that I ever more mistrusted - my own judgment than I do now, after my various blunders. But - we know that, though snuffers are less straight, comely, and - upright, perhaps, than the candlestick, they may be useful in - brightening the light which it carries.’ - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -A.D. 1884-1885 - -SOME OF A. L. O. E.’S POSSESSIONS - - -Some little time before this Mr. Baring had, for various reasons, decided -to leave Batala, though not, it seems, to give up his interest in the -High School. His departure was fixed for the last day of the year 1883; -and Miss Tucker, after her usual cheerful fashion, congratulated herself -upon the fact that, at least, the New Year would not begin with a parting. - -Much uncertainty had prevailed as to who should be chosen to carry on -Mr. Baring’s most important work among the boys; but before the end of -December suspense was ended. Another of Miss Tucker’s dharm-nephews, the -Rev. Herbert U. Weitbrecht, with his wife and children, would come to -live in Anarkalli, and Mr. Weitbrecht would be the Principal. By this -time a Mission Bungalow in Batala was finished, and two German ladies, -Miss Hoernle and Miss Krapf, came in the course of December to reside in -it. Miss Tucker, however, does not yet appear to have thought of changing -her quarters. Indeed, the little bungalow was built to contain only two -ladies. - -On December 27th she wrote home as to arrangements:-- - - ‘The Weitbrechts are to come here on Jan. 15 for about a - fortnight. I am to keep house until they come for good about - the middle of March; and then my fair niece, Ellie, is to - take the reins. She and her two children must go to the Hills - in May. All purpose going to England in the following March. - As Herbert did not wish to be buying much furniture, when so - soon to be on the wing, I felt it the best plan to take some - off dear Francis’ hands, and let the Weitbrechts have the use - of them. Thus, I find myself the possessor of a very large - bed, immensely long table, and a variety of other things too - numerous to recount. - - ‘There is no use in my not wanting possessions,--they will - come! I have even a large coffin, which is not the slightest - use to me! I did _not_ buy _that_ from Francis!...’ - -The fact of Miss Tucker including a coffin amongst her possessions -requires a word of explanation. About this time the Rev. Robert Clark -went to pay a little visit to Batala; and on his first arrival he was -shown straight to the room which he would occupy while there. Miss Tucker -came running in, and exclaimed-- - -‘I hope you have not seen it,--have you?’ - -Mr. Clark naturally inquired what was the thing in question which she -wished him not to have seen. - -‘I had better tell you all about it,’ she said. ‘A poor woman was dying, -and we thought they would take her away and burn her; and we wished to -give her Christian burial. So I ordered a coffin to be made. But they -were late in making it, and she died before it was ready; and they took -her away and burnt her. And then they brought the coffin. It was a very -good coffin, and I thought it would be useful; so I told them to put it -under the bed in the guest-room! You did not see it, did you?’ Mr. Clark -no doubt assured her that he had not yet made the discovery; and she went -on eagerly: ‘You must not think I kept it for myself; for I have directed -in my will that I should be buried without a coffin, and that my funeral -expenses must not exceed five rupees.’ - -The latter injunction was with a view to lessening funeral expenses among -Indian Christians generally, many of them being apt to spend heavily at -such times. But the whole story is eminently characteristic. Many people -shrink from the very mention of a coffin, because of its associations. -Not so Charlotte Tucker! There was to her absolutely no sadness whatever -in the thought of death. She looked forward to the day of her departure -from earth as to a day of release from bondage, of an upward spring into -a new and radiant life. It was a subject to be spoken of cheerily, and -with a smile. - -What became of the coffin in the end Mr. Clark does not say; but he too -speaks, as do others, of her entire fearlessness with regard to death. -Once, when talking of it to him, she quoted impressively the words, used -long before by her gentle sister, Fanny: ‘Whenever, wherever, however, He -will!’ - -One time, when Mr. Clark was spending a Sunday at Batala with Miss -Tucker, she read aloud to him the 31st verse of the 40th chapter -of Isaiah, and drew attention to the fact that the verse had in it -instruction and comfort for persons of all ages. - -‘“They shall mount up with wings as eagles,”--that is something for our -young people; they are always soaring and flying. “They shall run, and -not be weary,”--that is for our middle-aged people; they run and work -on, and never seem to tire. And there is something for us old people -too,--“They shall walk and not faint.” We old people cannot fly; we -cannot run; but we can walk, and do not faint. And so we all of us renew -our strength by waiting on the Lord.’ - -Mr. Clark, from whom these details have come direct, writes also:-- - - ‘On another occasion, she came walking up to me in her genial, - brisk manner, with a book in her hands, as I entered the - room, and said, “You will be surprised when I tell you what - book I am reading! You know I am a good Churchwoman; and yet - I often like to read Spurgeon’s sermons. They are full of - apt illustrations, and he never repeats himself. I find them - so useful in my writings; and I know hardly any other work - which so much helps me.” In her latter years she often read - Shakespeare, and recommended it to educated Natives, who - were averse to the study of the Bible. The recitations from - Shakespeare, at the Prize-giving in the Baring High School - in Batala, originated with her; and she thought them very - valuable in the formation of character. The Prologues in these - Prize-givings were, I think, till last year all written by her.’ - -Not only in later days, but all through her life from very childhood, she -had delighted in Shakespeare, as we have already seen; and she had a very -high opinion of the value of Shakespeare in the general education of the -Indian mind. - -In confirmation of certain words above, spoken by herself, Mr. Clark -observes: ‘As regards her religious views, she was sincerely attached -to the Church of England, firmly believing that the teaching of the -Church of England, as set forth in the Book of Common Prayer and in the -Thirty-nine Articles, is in accordance with the Word of God.’ Another -also, who knew her well, has said: ‘A warm Churchwoman, she would always -be ready to see the best of those with whom she could not agree on many -points.’ This undoubtedly was the case,--in practice, if not always in -theory. She was, however, greatly opposed to Ritualism, and would be much -distressed when she came across aught of the kind in her various visits -to different places. - -The subject recalls involuntarily certain words uttered by Bishop French -of Lahore,--‘our saintly Bishop,’ as Miss Tucker called him. When he was -at home some years ago, and staying at Eastbourne, I happened to put to -him a question bearing on this matter; and his reply was one not soon -to be forgotten. He said: ‘IT IS NO QUESTION OUT THERE OF HIGH CHURCH -AND LOW CHURCH! IT IS A QUESTION SIMPLY OF CHRISTIANITY AND HEATHENISM!’ -To this wide and comprehensive view Charlotte Tucker could not have -fully subscribed. In her letters, from time to time, though not often, -the subject crops up, and she expresses her fears strongly as to one -individual or another. But it is noteworthy that when, soon after, she -meets with the individual himself, her fears are usually quieted; and -while conscious of differences on certain points, she is yet able fully -to recognise--and to recognise with delight--real devotion of heart and -life to the Service of the Master Whom she loved. No more unmistakable -token can well exist of true large-heartedness. There was in her no -innate love of controversy for its own sake; and though, as might be -expected with one of her impulsive temperament, she sometimes expressed -her views with energy, she did not love fighting, nor was she a violent -partisan. As a general rule, her aim was rather to build up than to pull -down. - -The years 1884 and 1885 passed in the main quietly, marked by no especial -events. Work went steadily on as usual; holidays were short as usual; -failure and success fluctuated as usual. Miss Tucker’s loneliest time -in Batala was over. Now she not only lived with the family of Mr. and -Mrs. Weitbrecht, but two other lady Missionaries were settled in Batala, -helping to carry on the work. Not that Charlotte Tucker’s toil was -lessened thereby. She had a less heavy weight of responsibility; but so -far as actual work was concerned it could never be overtaken,--and it -could not have been overtaken by twice or thrice the number of workers. -Fresh openings were continually appearing, continually calling for -attention. - -In the hot weather, indeed, she had a taste of her old manner of life. -Then, when other Europeans were compelled one after another to flee to -the Hills, Miss Tucker could safely remain on many weeks longer; up to a -certain point even enjoying the heat. On the whole, however, things were -altered. Not only were other Europeans in Batala most of the year, but -a railway had now been completed between Amritsar and Batala, bringing -all the Amritsar friends within a very easy distance. It became possible -to run over to Batala for a day’s visit; and Miss Tucker grew jealously -anxious, lest such visitors should in any wise hinder her work. ‘I have -let it be known,’ she wrote, ‘that I do not consider myself _off duty_ -till 2 P.M., so that if friends come in the morning they visit the house -and not me. I must try to be firm in this, and make no exceptions.’ - -A certain little incident of this period may be mentioned. With a new -Principal, naturally new plans were adopted in the training of the boys; -and Miss Tucker did not always at first take kindly to fresh ideas. She -was now of an age to prefer the old to the new, simply because it was the -old. Dr. Weitbrecht writes:-- - - ‘In 1885, by way of encouraging muscular exercise in the hot - weather, I tried the experiment of having the boys taught - wrestling by a Native athlete. The Auntie was at first inclined - to be a little shocked at the new development, and would not - grace the wrestling practice with her presence. One day, as it - was going on, Mrs. Weitbrecht went to a window overlooking the - arena, and there found Miss Tucker, stretched on the floor, her - head out of the low window. In some alarm lest the old lady - should have fainted, she offered to raise her, but was only met - with the reply, “Hush! I’m looking at the boys.” The ladies - soon saw they were discovered, as a handsome young Pathan - looked up with a smiling “Salaam.”’ - -Extracts from the letters of these two years, 1884 and 1885, must -unfortunately, for lack of space, be very limited in number. - - ‘_New Year’s Day, 1884._--I had a very sore parting with Mera - Bhatija; but on that I will not dwell.... - - ‘The last day of 1883 was a very sad one to me; but I had - some of the little boys in the evening, and amusing them - shook me out of my melancholy. I awoke early--as usual--on the - New Year’s Day, and sang New Year’s hymns. After that I heard - unwonted music below my window. Good Miss Krapf and three of - the Singha girls had come to salute the New Year with a holy - song. Of course, I went to the city after breakfast.’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_Jan. 21._ - - ‘I am quite _glad_ that my furniture is so simple. Had I had - plenty of gimcracks, I might have been a fidgety old maid. - As it is, there is no harm in having a nursery instead of a - drawing-room. But I have a nice little drawing-room of my own; - a screened-off bit of my fine large sleeping-room. I used it - for my classes when sweet Margaret was here; for I think that a - married couple should not be always having interruptions. This - arrangement does nicely in the cool weather; and in the hot - weather dear Nellie and her babes will be in the Hills. It will - be the old arrangement of Auntie and one choice nephew,--for - Herbert _is_ choice, and kind to my Leila’s attached godmother.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Jan. 28, 1884._ - - ‘I feel as if I must have a talk with my Laura to-night; for my - spirit feels pensive and my heart tender. The ladies came and - took tea with us; and Miss Krapf brought her music. As Herbert - wanted to see a photo of St. George and Francie, I took my dear - old album into the drawing-room, which it very seldom enters. - While the sweet, rich music was going on, I was--yes, sighing - over my Album. More than twenty of the faces in it no longer of - earth! Sweet Mother, Fanny, Henry, Letitia, Aunt E----,--oh, so - many gone before! Then my Laura looked so like what she did in - old days. I must not look often over _that_ Album; it is like - my youth between two boards. What a changing world!’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_March 26._--I met with a perfectly mad woman in a Hindu - Zenana. She came and sat down beside me. V. and others made me - change my seat to another bedstead--the usual seat. I did not - at first know why, but was soon aware of the cause. The poor, - afflicted woman put her head right down on my lap. She did not - seem to be mischievous. It was insanity, not idiotcy.’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_April 22, 1884._ - - ‘Among the little matters which vary our regular life at - Batala, I may mention almost nightly alarms about robbers. - The servants have got into a nervous state.... It is not a - comfortable state of affairs.... The Weitbrechts and I have been - putting our heads together. I forget which of us suggested the - plan which we hope may succeed. I sleep in the front room, - opposite to the servants’ house; so a great tumult naturally - awakens me, especially as my windows are open for air. The - Weitbrechts are more out of the way. - - ‘Herbert is to lend me his revolver, loaded, and we are to take - care that every one knows that I have the formidable weapon; - but no one but ourselves is to know that I would on no account - hurt any one with it. On the next alarm of robbers, I am to - jump up, and--fire--at the trees or the stars. The report - will probably awake Herbert, who has a rifle. Now you see the - double use of this arrangement. My Ayah may possibly even sleep - out-of-doors, if she knows that a yell from her may bring a - pistol-shot from her vigilant Miss Sahiba; and robbers, if - such there be, will doubtless dread my prowess, not knowing - how peculiarly peaceable I am, and that I would prefer being - shot myself to shooting another! I am to have a very determined - look; and we have all tutored each other _not to laugh_! Both - Herbert and Nellie have some fun in them, but they are to - look as grave as judges, as if Miss Sahiba were a dead shot; - especially on a very dark night, when there is no moon! Have I - not spectacles?’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_April 23._ - - ‘Well, my loved sister, if you read my little note to Leila - first, you will be pleased to hear that the night went - over serenely. Even my frightened Ayah seems to have slept - peacefully under the wing of the Buzurg Miss Sahiba, armed - with a revolver! Would not dear Rowland have laughed to see - old Auntie learning from Herbert how to cock and fire a - pistol! I wonder how Nellie kept her countenance, when one - of the servants expressed a hope that Miss Sahiba would give - some notice before firing, for fear of a casualty to one of - the household; and then wanted to know what would happen if - Miss Sahiba _killed_ a thief! Nellie told the inquirer that - we English--she was too truthful to say the Miss Sahiba in - particular--only aimed at limbs to disable, not at bodies to - kill. Nellie knows pretty well that, if _I_ aimed at anything, - it would be at the stars. - - ‘I took care to lock up my dangerous weapon before sunrise, - treating my revolver with great respect. Do you remember that, - when I was known to be coming out to India as a Missionary, - dear, kind H. Boswell wanted to make me a present of his - pistol? I declined it, as a very unnecessary part of a - Missionary’s outfit; but I could not help remembering H.’s - kindness yesterday. Though I never fired Herbert’s revolver, - yet the _report_ of it--to speak in Irish style--had a great - effect.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_May 3._--O yes, my Laura, _love_ your K.[115] The Native is - affectionate. Indians are not usually considered grateful; - perhaps they are not grateful for benefits bestowed through - general benevolence or a sense of duty; but my impression is - that they readily respond to _affection_. This is one of the - great secrets of ----‘s power.... I was rather amused yesterday, - when I was describing Philemon’s funeral to the dear Pandit of - O---- (K. S.), and had said that we went singing towards the - grave. “I will not sing at _your_ funeral,” said he. And then - he told me how he had _tried_ to sing at dear Margaret’s--but - it was quite a failure; he could not sing, his heart was much - troubled. The Pandit is a lovable man; and he loves.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_May 8, 1884._ (_Her Birthday._) - - ‘When I came down in the morning before 6 A.M. I found in - letters of gold on a purple ground over the large front door, - “God save our beloved Miss Sahiba.” I told dear Babu Singha - when we met, as I walked on towards the city, that I liked the - “our.” He observed that “buzurg” seemed to put me farther away - from them. I quite agreed. I like “our,” which makes me seem - like the boys’ property.... - - ‘I was surprised in a Zenana to-day by a request for some _old_ - article of my clothes for a baby. “I will give you some new - cloth,” said I; for I make exceptions to my rule of not giving - presents to Natives in Zenanas, in favour of new babies and - brides. But the grandfather did not want _new_ cloth at all. He - insisted on something old. So I humoured him, and looked out on - my return home for something that I had worn.... - - ‘How much I have to be thankful for, my Laura! I begin my Tenth - September with a quiet, peaceful feeling. “Oh, how kindly hast - Thou led me, Heavenly Father, day by day.” But the best is to - come. “Light after darkness--” Not that my present position is - darkness; but there is often weariness, of course.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_May 15._--I can so well enter into the “thought and anxiety” - caused by ----. His mind is probably in an effervescing - state; but we must trust and pray that, after the froth - works down, something precious may remain. Young India is at - present in a peculiar state; and ---- does not stand alone - in his dangerous love for oratory. You must expect, love, to - see some of the weaknesses of the Native character even in - those on whom our Blessed Religion has made an impression. - With the English--Truth, Honour, and a sense of Duty are - often found even in those _not_ very religious, and it shocks - and disappoints one to find the want of this kind of moral - foundation in some Natives, whose piety one cannot doubt!! “I - must do my duty,”--“Honour bright!”--are expressions that in - this land need to be taught. - - ‘The Native character is a study. _We_ can hardly disconnect - pious feeling from purity and conscientiousness. One must make - great allowance for those brought up in a tainted atmosphere. - Do not be easily discouraged, love. India does turn out some - really fine fellows; but a school like this is greatly needed, - to begin _moral_ tuition early. We want our flowers to have - stalks and leaves, and not to spread out their petals so close - to the earth as to be defiled by its dust. Let ---- expand his - eloquence in trying to draw ryots[116] to Christ. Close contact - with really hard evangelistic work, if persevered in, would - probably do much to sober his mind. Let him be persuaded that - the Baptism of one true Convert, however ignorant and poor, is - a far higher honour than the plaudits of an English audience.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_July 3, 1884._--I have had two comical though not very - pleasant incidents. - - ‘I sent dear Mrs. Singha as a present what I believed to be a - bottle of lemon syrup, delicious in hot weather.... When next I - went to the Banyans, Mrs. Singha told me that I had sent her - a bottle of _brandy_! I was astonished,--I, who am virtually - a teetotaller! I could hardly believe it. She produced the - bottle; and, sure enough, it was full of brandy. What a villain - of a grocer must have sold it, thought I, smuggling brandy - in this way.... “This is sure to be trashy brandy,” thought I, - “which I should not dare to give in a case of illness.” So, - in my indignation, I poured it all out on the grass. I also - thought that I would write to good Babu ---- at Lahore, who - had bought the bottle for me, to tell him of the wicked cheat - played on him. Most fortunately, I first mentioned the matter - to Herbert. “Do you not remember,” said he, “that when we - wanted a large bottle, you emptied your brandy into a small - one?” I had perfectly forgotten the fact. O stupid, most - stupid, old Auntie! And I had emptied my bottle on the grass! - - ‘The next incident was also a provoking one. You know that - I have had boils. Well, Herbert said ... that the best way - to stop a boil was, at the very first threatening, to put - caustic to the place. So I bought a bit of caustic, knowing - as much about it as I do of Hebrew.... Just before starting for - afternoon Wednesday Service in the city, I thought that I had - the slightest possible sensation of a boil on my nose. “Not a - pretty place to have a boil on,” thought I; so I took out my - wee grey stone, dipped it in water, and applied it. It did not - burn at all, so I applied it again. Then, seeing a black spot, - hardly visible except through spectacles, off I went to Service. - - ‘On returning home, to prepare to go out to Miss Hoernle’s, - how surprised--I may say almost shocked--was I, on looking in - my glass! A big black smutch on my nose; another on my chin; - and another on my thumb. Washing was of no avail; salts of - lemon none; chloride of lime none; soap useless! I could not - help laughing, I was such a figure; and my Ayah laughed too. I - determined to give it to Herbert roundly for putting me up to - make such a fright of myself.... As soon as I could get hold of - my naughty nephew, who was playing at lawn tennis as happily - as if nothing had happened, I scolded him in Miss Hoernle’s - presence as hard as I could,--considering that both of us were - laughing. At last my wrath blazed into verse:-- - - ‘“You told me it would make me smart,-- - The fear of pain was slight; - You have not made me smart at all,-- - You’ve made me just a fright!”’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_July 10._--You will like to know that I have managed almost - entirely to get rid of those spots, which made me think of Lady - Macbeth, and gave me rather a dislike to the use of caustic; - for one does not like to appear as if one never washed either - face or hands.’ - -In November another sorrow came; the death of Miss Tucker’s nephew in -Canada, Charles Tucker, whom she had visited before starting for India. -He was one of her ‘Robins’ of earlier days; and she felt the loss much. - -It was in the course of 1884 that Miss Tucker related to her sister a -certain Christian Pandit’s dream. His wife had long been dangerously ill, -and the husband had tenderly nursed her. No other Christians lived in the -village except these two; and no one but the husband had been near the -dying woman for many days. - - ‘I think it was the day before the sufferer’s departure,’ wrote - Miss Tucker, ‘that the Pandit fell asleep; but as he said, “In - sleep I was praying.” He dreamt that he heard a voice say, “I - will take her; she suffers so much!” Another Voice, which he - thinks was a Divine one, said, “Wait!” On waking, the Pandit - went to his wife. She told him that Jesus Christ had stood by - her, and laid His Hand on her head. “How did you know Him?” - asked the husband. “_His Side was red!_” Whether the appearance - was a dream or not, it gave comfort. The sufferer departed at - last in peace.’ - -There is no necessity for any one to believe this, on the part of either -husband or wife, to have been more than a natural dream--a reflex of the -state of mind and thought previously. At the same time, it is undoubtedly -possible that help or comfort, whichever was required, might be sent -through the medium of a dream. Several remarkable instances of dreams are -mentioned from time to time by Miss Tucker in her letters,--occasionally -vivid enough to decide a Muhammadan on the great step of becoming a -Christian. There is many a simple and natural means by and through which -God speaks to the heart; and dreams _may_ sometimes be one of those -means,--especially in ‘Early Church days.’ - -One other instance of the kind can be mentioned here, while the subject -is to the fore. In Charlotte Tucker’s Journal, some few years later, -occurs the following singular little entry, when she is describing a -visit to a certain village:-- - - ‘_Aug. 16._--J. R. told me dream of Christ, which he had had - three or four years ago. Indignantly repudiated idea that my - pictures were like Him Who was so much more beautiful. I read - part of description of Christ in Rev. i.; but the old man, with - simple truthfulness, said that _that_ was for the superior - person who had written. He was a poor man; he had only seen the - white dress and beautiful shining Face. I asked if he had seen - it distinctly. “Do I see you who are before me?” he replied. - “So I saw Him.” His nephew certified to J. R. having told him - of this dream soon after having it.’ - -It is very probable that the old man might have been dwelling on the -thought of Christ, consciously or unconsciously endeavouring to picture -the Divine Form to himself; and the dream _may_ have been a perfectly -natural consequence of his own cogitations. But to say that a thing is or -may be natural is _not_ to say that it can have been in no sense Divinely -sent, or that it might not bring quickened realisation with it. - -The New Year’s Day of 1885 was not altogether cheerful, despite -courageous efforts made, and parties of Indians: children in the -afternoon, seniors in the evening. Two unfortunate Hindus were -accidentally drowned in one of the large Batala tanks; happily not that -tank which lay close to the palace, wherein the schoolboys were wont to -disport themselves. This naturally threw a shadow over the proceedings of -the day. - -Early in the year came a letter from the Bishop of Lahore to Miss -Tucker:-- - - ‘_Jan. 10._ - - ‘DEAR FRIEND AND SISTER IN CHRIST,--May I venture to ask if - in the little room you may assign me kindly, during my short - visit to Batala, a little cot may be placed for a brother of - mine from New Zealand (a brother in Christ also), who is always - pleased to _chum_ with me, as he does at Bishopstow also, our - house being full? - - ‘I am sorry to say my visit must be limited to a sojourn with - you from Friday, 30th January, to Tuesday, February 3, as - the Ajnala work hedges me in behind, and Lahore and Amritsar - Confirmations before. May I ask your special prayers, lest this - rather overpowering crush of work may not impair strength of - mind or tone of spirit, both of which I have a little reason to - dread at this season? It is a comfort to know and to be assured - that our Faithful Lord will “stablish and keep us from evil.” - May His peace, and love with faith, be our portion; and then in - the storm we may sing our watchword, “All well.”--I am, yours, - with ever affectionate and grateful regards, - - ‘THOMAS V. LAHORE. - - ‘Affectionate good wishes to your whole party. - - ‘This will, alas! break up my itinerating plan; not for ever, I - trust.’ - -A fortnight later Miss Tucker wrote to her sister, on January 24:-- - - ‘You will have seen in the paper that our good Bishop has lost - his daughter. I wrote to him a little note of sympathy which - he was not to answer; but he did reply in his own gracious, - characteristic style. We expect the Bishop here next week for - a Confirmation; and he has asked leave to bring a Christian - brother from New Zealand. Whether the brother be an emigrant or - one of the aborigines, we know not. We are prepared for either.’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_Feb. 4, 1885._ - - ‘The interesting Confirmation took place on Saturday, ... after - which we partook of the Holy Communion. I think Herbert said - that there were 41 Communicants. We never had so many before in - our chapel. The dear, saintly Bishop left on Tuesday morning.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_March 28, 1885._ - - ‘You should have seen Ellie and me down on the floor to-day, - pinning down the dusters for the chess-board. It so happens - that there is an unusual influx of Native Christian visitors - at present--R. R., his winsome lady and two daughters, J.’s - mother, and S., a fledged bird, and these with the numerous - Singhas and the Native Pastor will make quite a gathering. I - rather expect to play badly; but the great thing is to be - quick and dashing, and to move as many pieces as possible; - and not to be disturbed by the bursts of laughter likely to - follow any check given or piece taken. Would you not like to be - present,--near me? - - ‘Well, as I rather expected, I was beaten, though I had the - best of the game at first. I never heard such noisy pieces - of chess as the dear brown boys were, when they were first - marshalled on the board, and had to don their crowns, regal or - mural, their mitres and their horses’ heads. Our Afghan hero, - C. C., was a knight, and enjoyed himself very much. I think - that there was only one piece, or at most two, that was not - moved.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_April 23, 1885._--My nephew Herbert ... is absent again on - Mission work. He has heard that there is a spirit of earnest - inquiry amongst a number of poor low-caste village folk, I - think about ten or eleven miles from Batala. He has gone to - look personally into the matter; and if he finds that these - lowly peasants are really seeking after God, we will try to - make some arrangement for their instruction. Herbert will see - if it be advisable for an English lady and Native Bible-woman - to go for a short time, and to fix some suitable agent (Native) - to reside amongst the poor people, and start a school. Of - course, this involves expense; but if corn at last be springing - up, it must not be neglected. It is such a comfort to have one, - wise, good, and active, like dear Herbert, to look after such - matters.... - - ‘If you happen to meet with dear Mrs. W----, please tell her - that her Cross gleams in my room every night. Her pretty straw - basket is so _much_ admired in the zenanas.... - - ‘Our Church-building is growing rapidly under Herbert’s - auspices. The “Mission Plough” too surprises me by its - growth. I hear that there are 105 boys there now. But we have - not a sufficiently strong staff of teachers. The Inspector - (Government) was pleased with the school, but said that we - should have a stronger staff. We know that too.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_May 8._--I saw Miss B. a few days ago. She saw you in London, - and thought that we resembled each other. “But I hope that my - sister looks much younger than I do,” said I. “Does she look - twenty years younger?” To my satisfaction, Miss B. agreed that - you did. So my Laura keeps her looks, though not feeling so - strong as I should wish her to do.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_June 22, 1885._ ... I must amuse ---- with the following - _perfectly authentic_ anecdote. There was a nice young couple, - as nice as Fred and Maud perhaps, and they had a nice little - baby. One day the inexperienced Mamma banged the baby’s head. - Accidents _will_ happen, you know, in the best-regulated - families. The young mother was conscientious; she felt that she - ought to confess the banging to the father of the child. With - tearful eyes she went to her husband, and owned that she had - banged her baby’s head. Then the husband, gaining courage from - the brave woman’s truthfulness, confessed that _he had done the - very same_! he had banged the baby’s head, but had not liked to - own it. The baby does not appear to have been the worse for the - two bangs; perhaps they were on opposite sides of the little - head, and counteracted each other. Still--fathers and mothers - had better not try the experiment of how much banging a baby - will bear. Don’t you think so, darling?’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_July 13._--I was interested in hearing what was said to - E. by the lad last baptized.... “I have nearly got through my - temptations,” said he. Of course, I cannot give his exact - words, which were in Urdu; but their drift. The lad thought - that forty days of temptation succeed a convert’s Baptism, and - said, “I have only eleven left.” ... “But do you think that you - will never be tempted afterwards?” asked E. Poor B. did not - think that, but he thought that the first forty days were the - worst; and perhaps he is right.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Nov. 13, 1885._--I think that it will amuse you and my dear - god-daughter, if I tell you of my first attempt regularly to - make a marriage, and what were the consequences thereof. - - ‘I had been told by the experienced Native Christian, whom I - will call M., the proper way to carry on a negotiation. He told - me long ago that a “Buzurg” (elder) should ask the parents for - the maid. There being a union which we Missionaries thought - suitable and desirable, ... I, the most buzurg of all our circle, - at the desire of the fine young suitor,--whom I will call - B.,--went in my duli to M.’s house, to ask his lovely daughter - in marriage for my client. I managed to have both parents - present, and sent the maiden away. It would have been a great - breach of etiquette for her to have heard me. - - ‘I felt that I was doing all in proper Oriental style. The - parents listened; we talked over the advantages of the union; - and M. and his wife were to give me their reply on the - following day. - - ‘But Orientals take their time. I heard nothing on the - following day; so on the third I sent my salaam to M. and - desired to see him. He came, smiled, was highly agreeable, said - that _he_ was willing, but must consult his brother, etc. - - ‘_I_ thought that some one else should be consulted; namely, - the young lady. I was going to Amritsar ... so I resolved to - have a private interview with the maiden, whose future was to - be decided upon. The lovely--let’s call her X.--had returned - to ----; so there I sought her, and had a _tête-à-tête_. I - wanted to know whether _she_ cared for B., whom she had had - many opportunities of seeing from her childhood.... We had almost - taken it for granted that X. must care for him. - - ‘Hitherto all had gone pretty smoothly. I had even thought what - presents I should give, and the Weitbrechts and I had talked - over the day for the wedding. But an unexpected obstacle arose. - X. could make no objection to B.; I do not think that she has a - thought for any other suitor; but she does not want to marry at - all! “I want to read,” she said. “I wish to remain _like you_!” - - ‘This opened our eyes to a peril in the infant Church, of - which you probably never would dream. Ellie and I set to - counting up young maidens who are of a suitable age to become - brides,--well-educated, nice girls,--and came to the conclusion - that a kind of fashion is setting in _not to marry_. The Native - delights in imitating the European. The girls see that most - female Missionaries, whom they love and honour, are unmarried. - They enjoy freedom.... Christian women are at a premium. _Widows_ - are eagerly sought as Bible-women.... - - ‘Of course, I would never wish X. to marry one she does not - care for. I have told her father that the matter is at an end. - But _he_ looks grave enough, and sees the peril to our Infant - Church as clearly as we do. If our nice maidens scorn to marry, - where are our fine, well-educated men to find Christian wives? - How are girls--except in very rare cases--to work in zenanas - without the care of a husband? It would be thought improper, - hardly safe. - - ‘“The consequences are” that I have written a little book - in honour of the holy estate of Matrimony; which--the new - book--has had Ellie’s approval, and I am sending it to Herbert - for his. What we want in India are good wives and mothers. No - science or literature can make up for the lack of such.’ - -It was in the summer of this year that Miss Tucker mentioned in -one letter a curious little scene at the railway station. She had -gone there to meet a friend, who failed to arrive. Two young Native -Christians happening to be present, and also a young English officer -of her acquaintance, she brought them together with a kind of half -introduction. When she had left the station, the officer began talking to -the two, asking lightly why they had left their own religion for another. -‘It’s all the same,’ he said. ‘Muhammadans, Hindus, Christians, all -know that there is One God.’ This far from brilliant remark received an -answer which it well deserved. ‘If so,’ one of the Indians replied, ‘what -difference is there between you, us, and the Devil?’ The train moved on, -carrying the speaker away; and no more could be said. But more might have -weakened the force of the retort. - -A few slight memoranda, contributed by two Native Christians, come next. -The first are sent by Dr. I. U. Nasir, formerly one of the boys in the -Baring High School, already quoted in an earlier chapter. He speaks -of himself as an adopted ‘son’ of Miss Tucker’s, not, like others a -‘nephew.’ The second set of extracts, which I give last, not because -they are of inferior interest, but because I wish to accentuate one -suggestion, by letting it end the chapter, are from the Rev. Mian Sadiq, -at one time Indian clergyman in Amritsar, and later the same in Batala. - - -I. - - ‘Of all the India’s sons, especially those with whom she had - to deal at Batala, it was my privilege to be called her “son.” - She was an “Aunt” to a good many Missionaries, but only did she - allow me to call her “Mother”; and she did love me as a true - mother.... - - ‘The one thing most noticeable about her was that she was so - self-denying and humble, considerate for others’ feelings, and - tender-hearted. She would tend the sick with such motherly - care; and if the disease was a dangerous one, or infectious, - she would insist on sitting by the bedside, and not allow - others to run the risk of contracting the disease. On one - occasion a poor, dirty convert was suffering from fever, and - had no clothes. Miss Tucker gave him her bedding for the night, - and spent the winter night herself sitting before a fire. Above - all she hated “I’s.” I remember only one occasion when she - desired us to do something for her. She had regular morning - and evening walks in the fields; but getting a little tired - sometimes of waiting till the Church bell sounded, she wished - a small terrace to be raised, just sufficient to seat her. A - small rude platform was raised for her by the side of a babūl - tree. She may have selected that particular spot, because it - gave a very picturesque view of the “stately palace,” with the - “tank with lilies blowing” in the foreground,--now turned into - an artificial canal. - - ‘Her reticence regarding her own life and work was extreme. - This much I remember from her occasional talks, incidentally - dropped from her: that she was eight years old when she read - Shakespeare; she was eleven when she began to compose; and - at twenty-one she sent her first book to press.[117] She - wrote to me once how much she exulted over her first printed - composition.... - - ‘At that advanced age how much she could accomplish in a single - day was a wonder to everybody. Her vast correspondence, reading - of books and papers, her literary compositions, her school - classes, Bible-meetings, various interviews, were so gracefully - and naturally managed. Still, all these were held in the - background, and jealously guarded against encroaching upon her - Missionary work.... - - ‘She was reading the sermon (Spurgeon’s) on Christ’s first - miracle at Cana. She read there that our duty was to fill - the jars to the brim; and it was Christ’s work to turn them - into wine. This led to the self-examining question, “Am I - filling the jars to the brim? Can I not work a little more - for Christ than I have hitherto done?” This gave her strength - in her feebleness; and from that day she spent an hour more - in the zenanas than she used to do. Considering the various - discouragements she met in her Missionary work, it was no small - matter to take this step,--and this too at a time when it was - an effort to walk, not to speak of ascending perpendicular - flights of stairs in the zenanas.... - - ‘The one thing which was not liked by some people about her was - that she had an extreme disgust of Natives taking to English - dress, which she invariably designated “ugly.” She regretted on - several occasions that her age and habits did not allow of her - adopting the “graceful _dopatta_” (head cover) in preference to - her hat.... - - ‘Her ideas about the burial system were very definite. She - would take up the thread of St. Paul’s argument, and compare - the human body to a seed of grain, which should be simply - buried under the earth, and not shut up in a box and placed in - the ground. She several times expressed her desire to be simply - wrapped up in a clean sheet and carried by her boys to the - cemetery when her turn came, and then laid in the grave as one - naturally sleeping.’ - - -II. - - ‘During Mr. Baring’s absence in England in 1881, one cold night - Miss Tucker noticed in the Chapel a man shivering with cold. - He was one of the non-Christian servants of the school. After - Service she called him, and asked him if he had more clothes. - The man said “No.” He was shivering, as he had fever. She told - him to wait, and ran upstairs. She came back in a minute with a - beautiful rug. She told the man she could not give it to him, - as it was a present from her sister, but she would lend it to - him for the night, and would buy a country blanket for him the - next day. I asked her what she was going to do herself. She - said she would keep a fire in her bedroom, and that would keep - her warm. - - ‘I saw her many times picking up pieces of broken glass or - bottles. She said poor people who walk barefoot get hurt by - these. She has known cases in which men suffered for weeks from - wounds received from these. - - ‘She was not kind to men only, but to animals. One summer - morning, as she was coming from the city, after doing her - work in the Zenanas, she saw a poor donkey with a sore back, - troubled by a crow. She came home, took a piece of cloth, went - to the place where she saw the donkey, tied the cloth, and came - back and took her breakfast.... - - ‘Her example has done a great deal in removing caste feelings - among Christians. Batala was a place for feasts. In these - feasts all Christians were invited. She generally sat with - low-caste Converts, and ate with them.... - - ‘Once for sending a girl to an orphanage she sent for a - prospectus of the school. In it two warm dresses were put down - in the list of clothes. ‘It is very unreasonable,’ she said, - ‘to require two warm dresses.’ She had herself only one, and - that she had been using for the last nine years. Her poem, - “What a Missionary Miss Sahiba should be,” is an embodiment of - what she was.’ - -One more short sentence from the same source is worthy of particular -attention: ‘When ill, Miss Tucker did not like to inform her friends of -it, lest her friends should leave their work and come to nurse her. She -often expressed a wish that there were MISSION NURSES, who could attend -to the sick Missionaries. Without these, when one got ill, others were -taken from their work to nurse her.’ - -In an earlier chapter it was suggested that some ladies, wishing to -find a vocation, might offer themselves as Honorary helpers to the more -regular Missionaries in certain lines, among which Nursing was included. -Here it seems that the same thought had distinctly occurred to the mind -of Charlotte Tucker. Why should not a little Band of Honorary Nurses for -India be organised,--Nurses, trained and capable, holding themselves -ready to go wherever their services may be required by any sick -Missionary, so that the steady work of other Missionaries should not be -unnecessarily interrupted by the illness of one of their number? The idea -is at least worth consideration, since apparently it would have met with -the approval of A. L. O. E. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -A.D. 1885-1886 - -ON THE RIVER’S BRINK - - -Changes again were impending. Mr. and Mrs. Weitbrecht, after two years’ -work in Batala, were to quit the place; and in their stead would come Mr. -and Mrs. Corfield,--the former as new Principal of the High School. It -is singular to note one Missionary after another thus coming and going, -while Charlotte Tucker, with resolute perseverance, held to her post. - -At last she too began to think of a change. Not of leaving Batala; not -of going home, for even the shortest of furloughs! Such an idea perhaps -never so much as occurred to her mind. She simply began to think of -altering her residence in Batala. At Anarkalli she had lived with Miss -Swainson, with Mr. and Mrs. Beutel, with Natives alone, with Mr. Baring, -with Mr. Baring and his wife, with Mr. and Mrs. Weitbrecht; and now -another ‘upheaval’ had become imminent. - -The notion of a move was apparently at first her own, though others soon -looked upon it as desirable. Two German ladies, Miss Hoernle and Miss -Krapf, dwelt together in the cosy little Mission Bungalow, which they had -named ‘Sonnenschein’ or ‘Sunshine.’ No room remained for a third inmate; -but Miss Tucker formed a plan of building a small annexe to the west of -‘Sunshine,’ for her own use; and to this tiny annexe she resolved to give -the name of ‘Gurub i Aftab,’ or ‘Sunset.’ - -Mrs. Hamilton, on first hearing of the scheme, was somewhat distressed -at the thought of such a change for her ‘Char’; but Miss Tucker wrote to -assure her of no move until the new building should be perfectly dry. -Also a long letter from Mr. Weitbrecht set before Mrs. Hamilton, with -kind clearness, the advantages of the plan. Among other reasons urged was -the overcrowded state of the palace, where more room for the School was -urgently needed; and also the desirability that Miss Tucker, in advancing -years, should not constantly have to climb a steep and awkward staircase, -which had of late greatly tried her strength. - -It is probable that for some little time past there had been a certain -failure of power, evidenced by such facts as this, though made very -little of by herself, and perhaps little marked by others, because of her -determined cheerfulness and persistence in work. - -Still, as always, she rose at six in winter, and at half-past four in -summer; had her little breakfast of cocoa and sweet biscuits; then read -and studied till eight. At 8 A.M., whether in summer or in winter, she -seldom failed to take her rapid ‘Devotional walk’ out of doors, up and -down, till summoned to Prayers by the Chapel gong. Then came breakfast -proper; after which she would still, as always, go out in her duli for -three or four hours of Zenana-visiting. Next followed correspondence; -lunch; classes of English history and English literature for the elder -boys; then afternoon tea; then sometimes more reading of a Native -language, and visiting of Native Christians. This was the manner of day -that she spent, week in, week out, month after month, often for ten or -eleven months at a stretch; varied only by itinerating expeditions into -neighbouring villages, or an occasional trip to Amritsar,--the latter -seldom, except on business of some kind. And she had been living this -life now for at least eight or nine years! Small wonder that a breakdown -should come at last. The marvel was that it had not come sooner. A chill -and a bad smell were the immediate cause,--they usually are in such -cases, acting upon exhausted powers. - -Up to Thursday, December 10, things were much as usual. That morning she -went on her ordinary city round, and then to a Native wedding, where -she was very much tried by a bad smell from a drain, though her innate -courtesy would not allow her to hurry away. On reaching home she was in a -chilled and shivering condition, with the beginning of a sore throat. In -the afternoon fever and drowsiness came on. - -For a day or two there seemed to be an improvement. Mrs. Weitbrecht, who -was to have left Batala before Sunday, on account of health, deferred her -journey until Monday. - -Nothing could induce Miss Tucker to remain at home on Saturday. She -started as usual for the city; and on her return she told Mrs. Weitbrecht -‘how glad she was to have gone,’ adding, ‘I am always especially glad -when I go to the city, feeling it a little effort to do so.’ One is -disposed to imagine that it must have been more than a _little_ effort, -on that particular day; and the words contain a revelation as to past -‘efforts’ when unfit for the work which she never would neglect. Dr. H. -M. Clark had been asked to come over, but she utterly declined to see -him, except as a friend, refusing to consider herself ill. On Sunday she -was at both the Church Services, ‘kept up,’ as Mr. Bateman said, ‘by her -indomitable spirit’; and in the afternoon she had, as always, her Class -of boys. On Monday morning she made her appearance early, to see Mrs. -Weitbrecht off,--very bright and cheery, wrapping up sandwiches, and -determinedly hiding how ill she really felt, for fear Mrs. Weitbrecht’s -departure should be again delayed. - -Things could not go on thus much longer. Miss Tucker had made a brave -fight,--too brave for her own good!--but illness was now fast gaining -the upper hand. She did not again attempt city visiting,--a sure sign -of her condition; and much time that day was spent in a half-doze. -Towards night she became light-headed, and was so weak that they had to -carry her to bed. Miss Hoernle decided to sleep at the palace, so as to -be within easy call if needed; but in the early morning she found her -patient up, writing a letter, and of course avowing herself ‘better.’ -The improvement, if it existed, was very brief. Fever again set in, with -weakness and delirium; and Dr. H. M. Clark was sent for. On Tuesday Mr. -Clark came too, and that evening he sent for Miss Wauton to go over from -Amritsar on Wednesday morning. Mr. Rowland Bateman also was speedily on -the spot. Somewhat later in the week a telegram summoned A. L. O. E.’s -nephew and niece, Major Louis Tucker and Mrs. Tucker. - -For three days the greatest possible anxiety was felt; and on the -Thursday another medical man was telegraphed for, that a consultation -might take place. The result of the consultation was not favourable. Dr. -P. on first seeing Miss Tucker thought she might live a week, but when -going away he expressed a fear that half that time would see the end. - -Both before and after Dr. P.’s coming there was excessive restlessness, -and a great deal of delirium, though the latter was never of a painful -kind, and she always knew those who were about her. She was at times -extremely anxious to get up, and she showed vexation at not being allowed -to do so. Once, when thus controlled, she said to Mr. Weitbrecht with -respect to her nurses: - -‘Couldn’t you take them to see the Church?’ - -‘But, Auntie dear, we have seen the Church already,’ they assured her. - -‘Then take them somewhere else,’ she said,--‘only take them _a long way -off_!’ - -This evidently remained on her mind; for the next day she began to talk -about the Salvation Army, and the doctrine of Perfection in this life, as -taught by its devotees. - -‘It is a doctrine of the devil,’ she said emphatically. ‘Tell ---- that -I had an outbreak of anger and petulance only yesterday. I wanted to go -to my own room, and I was quite cross when they would not let me. I think -the Lord let that be, that we might see how weak and sinful we are. I am -sixty-four years old,--and they who are so much younger than I am would -not let me get up! They treated me just as if I were a child; and I could -not bear to be made into a little child; and so the Lord put me down. -These doctrines are the snare of the devil. They make presumptuous people -more presumptuous; and they are calculated to drive conscientious people -_mad_!’ The last words were repeated; and Miss Tucker went on to mention -two cases, known to herself, where individuals had become actually insane -through ‘perfectionist’ teaching. - -She talked in her delirium almost incessantly, showing extreme mental -activity, an activity which never failed, even when exhaustion was -greatest. She dictated letters; she composed verses and comic parodies; -she repeated texts and long sentences in Hindustani; she sang with -animation a cricket-song for the boys, and then a hymn in Hindustani or -English. Sometimes her drollery was so intense that her nurses, in all -their anxiety, shook with laughter to hear the things she said. And all -through, from beginning to end, one thing never failed,--her radiant -happiness in the thought of going Home. - -While recognising those who were really present, she fancied that others -were there also, and talked to them. Generally she could reason quietly -about these appearances, saying that she knew they were ‘shadows.’ She -does not seem to have felt thus about the evil spirits, which she thought -she saw. She pointed to where she believed them to be, asking, ‘Do you -see them?’ Then addressing the spirits, she continued: ‘I am not afraid -of you! You can do nothing to _me_! I belong to Jesus! Don’t sit there, -at the foot of my bed. Go away; you cannot touch me!’ - -The strong doses of quinine made her very deaf, so that she could hear -little of what went on around her bed; but she heard what others could -not hear,--sounds of music filling the room. - -Sometimes she imagined herself to be in Zenanas, talking to the Bibis, -and pleading earnestly with them. Or again she wondered why her kahars -did not come to take her thither. - -‘What to me was most remarkable,’ wrote Mr. Clark afterwards, ‘was her -perfect cheerfulness and happiness; thinking of everything and every -one around her, and talking of the most common things, and doing it all -in the light of Eternity; standing on the very brink of another world, -and yet forgetting nothing, but thinking of almost everything in this.... -It was at times even amusing, for there was no sadness in her perpetual -sunshine.’ - -On Friday morning, the day after the consultation, Miss Tucker woke very -early, and asked to have her desk, that she might write. This of course -could not be allowed. Later in the same day Mr. Weitbrecht went in to see -her, just after an interview with Dr. Clark, and she inquired, ‘What does -the doctor say?’ - -Mr. Weitbrecht endeavoured to avoid giving any direct reply, speaking -only of one symptom which the Doctor had named as encouraging. Then came -the point-blank question: - -‘Yes; but does he think I shall die, or recover?’ - -‘He cannot tell.’ - -Miss Tucker was not to be so put off. An answer she would have. ‘I am -very deaf with the quinine,’ she said. ‘I can’t hear what you say. If he -thinks I shall stay, do this!’--holding up her hand;--‘and if sinking, -this!’--dropping it. - -There was no choice left. Truth compelled Mr. Weitbrecht to lower gently -his hand. ‘Whereupon,’ as Mr. Bateman relates, ‘a smile and an almost -shout of joy escaped her.’ - -‘I am so glad!’ she exclaimed. ‘So glad to be dying in harness! And to -think that I shall be no trouble to anybody!... It is too good to be true, -that I am going Home.... The bowl is broken at the fountain!’ Then she -repeated the simple verse beginning, - - ‘“And when I’m to die, - Receive me, I’ll cry, - For Jesus has loved me, - I cannot tell why!”’ - -What Charlotte Tucker experienced, on seeing that lowered hand, may be to -some extent realised by reading her ‘Dream’ of the Second Advent, given -in an earlier chapter. Heaven to her was ‘Home’; many of her nearest and -dearest were already in Paradise; and ‘death,’ so called, would mean -re-union with those dear ones. Charlotte Tucker could from her very heart -re-echo the poet’s words,--with a most practical belief in them,--‘There -is no Death; what seems so is Transition.’ During years past she had -longed for this Transition; striving only not to be impatient, but to -await cheerfully God’s own time. - -And now, it seemed, she was to go! Not only to leave sin and sorrow -behind; not only to be young and strong again; not only to see such -beauty and glory as our Earth can never show; not only to ‘mount up with -wings, as eagles,’ into splendid new spheres of knowledge and thought, of -employment and work. All these things, though real, were secondary. _The_ -overwhelming delight of going Home, whether by the Coming of Christ, or -through the ‘grave and gate of Death,’ was that she would meet her Lord -and Master face to face! That was the grand expectation which thrilled -her whole being, which drew from her an ‘almost shout’ of joy, even in -extreme weakness,--the prospect of seeing HIM, ‘Whom, not having seen,’ -she loved. - -So intense was the joy that it had a remarkable result. It appeared to -take the same effect as a powerful stimulant upon her sinking strength. -The very delight which she had in dying brought her back to life; the -very rapture with which she desired to go kept her from going. - -It is not needful to suppose that this alone saved her life. Skilled -physicians and devoted nurses had done and were doing their utmost; and -a fresh remedy was being tried, which brought down the very high fever. -But the fact remains the same, that, until Charlotte Tucker was told that -she would die, hopes of her recovery had been given up, at all events by -those best qualified to judge; and that, from the time when she learned -the verdict of the doctors, she began to revive. At the least we must -allow that the stimulant afforded by this eager rejoicing was a marked -assistance to other remedies; and that, without it, in all probability -she might have sunk. - -Nor need it be imagined that she was immediately out of danger. -Improvement was very gradual, and anxiety lasted long. Weeks later she -spoke of her own life as having been on Christmas Day still ‘trembling in -the balance,’ and this was nearly a week before Christmas. But hope had -revived, and every day it grew stronger. - -Having once made up her mind that she was to die, it was, we may be -sure, no easy matter for Charlotte Tucker to turn her mind earthward -again. ‘She dwelt on the thought continually,’ wrote one of her nurses -afterwards; and another friend said in a letter home, at the time, ‘She -is deaf to any suggestion of possible recovery.’ - -Full directions were given as to presents which she wished to have sent -to relatives and friends after her departure; and many messages also, -expressive of intense delight in the prospect which she believed to lie -before her. She was very particular as to her funeral. ‘I wish no one to -wear black for me,’ she said. ‘My funeral must not cost more than five -rupees. No coffin; only a plank to keep the body straight. You must make -a recess in the grave, so that the earth may not fall on my face. No one -must carry me but my dear Christian boys.’ - -Then she would believe herself to be in a Zenana once more, and she was -giving a farewell address in Hindustani to all her Bibis. In the midst of -such a serious exhortation would come in quotations from Shakespeare, or -odd little remarks about her food, making it impossible for others not to -smile, as the active mind passed rapidly from one subject to another. But -still her radiant expectation and rejoicing never faltered. - -‘What a happy thing it is to have conquered!’ she said once,--‘and to -know that I have a crown of glory awaiting me above! What happiness! But -I know I have no righteousness of my own. No one has that! My trust is in -the Blood of Christ _alone_! “The Blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from -all sin.”’ - -Repeatedly she remarked how ‘happy she was, dying in harness,--just as -she had wished!’ And again: ‘I want to go. You _must not_ pray for my -recovery. The Doctor _says_ I’m worse, doesn’t he?’ And again: ‘If the -Ladies of the Committee knew what a wreck I am, they would be glad that -I am going now. I cannot do any more work; but tell them that I depart -in the full, glad hope of Eternal Life, through Jesus Christ _only_! -His precious Blood _only_!... “Nothing in my hand I bring; simply to Thy -Cross I cling!” ... I am almost surprised at my ever coming out to be -a Missionary. I was so very ignorant! A Missionary needs very great -humility.’ - -At another time she asked: ‘How long is it likely to last? My sister -will be quite happy about me, now that I have completed my tenth year of -Missionary service.’ - -But near as Charlotte Tucker drew to the Gate of Death, which to her was -the Gate of Life, she was only allowed one glimpse inside; and then she -had to turn back into the wilderness of Earth once more. It makes one -think of the Pandit’s dream beside his dying wife. A ‘voice’ might well -have said, with angelic pity, of Charlotte Tucker, ‘She longs so to come! -I will take her!’ But if so, it would seem that the Divine Voice softly -interposed, ‘WAIT!’ Her hour of Rest was not yet reached. She was not -very much more than half-way through her toilsome Indian campaign. Ten -years of work lay behind. Eight years of work stretched ahead. This was -but the Rehearsal of the real Home-going. - -By Saturday morning there was so far a distinct improvement that Mr. -Clark felt himself able to return to Amritsar. Miss Tucker still counted -herself dying; and her last words to Mr. Clark were, ‘Give to our dear -and honoured Bishop my affectionate _adieux_!’ - -When Christmas Day arrived, though not yet out of danger, she was allowed -to see all her Batala friends who could come, including the boys of the -School,--no doubt a mere passing glimpse of each. Much warm interest had -been shown by the people of the city, as well as by the Christians who so -well knew and loved her. Before Christmas Day, however, Miss Tucker seems -to have accepted the fact that, so far as could be seen, she had not yet -fought out her battle, had not yet to exchange Cross for Crown. So early -as the 21st of December Miss Wauton wrote to Mrs. Hamilton:-- - - ‘I don’t think she will ever attempt so much active work again - amongst the people; but she said to me this morning, “Though I - shall probably not be able to do much amongst them, I can still - _love_ them!” Darling Auntie! _how_ every one does love and - honour her! This week has shown more than ever how she lives in - the hearts of those for whom she is spending her life; and how - dear she is to a very, very wide circle of friends, as well as - to her relations. The boys have been as quiet as mice all the - time she was ill; and the only sounds that reached her room - were their voices practising the Christmas hymns, which she was - delighted with, and fancied she heard them nearly all through - the night, long after they were all in bed.’ - -On December 28th Charlotte Tucker was able to dictate a letter to Mrs. -Hamilton:-- - - ‘MY PRECIOUS LAURA,--I have been in deep waters, but I rather - think I shall swim. I cannot tell you what I owe to the - splendid nursing of ---- and ----. You couldn’t have nursed me - more devotedly and tenderly yourself. Neither you nor I will - ever forget it.... - - ‘I’ve a noise going on for ever in my ears; but my mind has - been clear all through. The hard thing was not to be able to - pray for what I wished. I should so have liked to depart and be - with Jesus; but it didn’t seem God’s Will; and His Will must be - best. I tried to ask for patience and resignation. Good-bye, - darling....’ - -Loving messages to many friends are included in this letter; and she -also mentions having received on Christmas Day ‘Communion for the -Dying,’--though apparently she was then not really counted to be dying. -However, unless she misunderstood her doctor, he was not even then -hopeful to any great extent. Probably her own recollections were a good -deal more confused than she was at all aware of. - -It is not a little remarkable that, after all this, she should in -letters written somewhat later quietly and decidedly assert that she -had _not_ reckoned herself to be dying, but had fully expected to get -well! The explanation is, most likely, that her strong desire to pass -away was so dominant a feeling as to entirely push into the background a -consciousness that she would recover. At the time she doubtless refused -to listen to the voice of this consciousness; but afterwards it would -naturally recur to memory,--possibly in a somewhat exaggerated form. - -As soon as she was sufficiently improved for the move to be practicable, -she was taken to Amritsar,--being lifted into her duli, which travelled -by train, so that she was spared any further changes. At Amritsar she -was within easy reach of her Doctor; also she could be better nursed and -cared for there than in such an out-of-the-way place as Batala, where -personal comforts were few. Letters early in 1886 naturally contain a -good deal about her illness. - - ‘BATALA, _Jan. 2_.--My darling Laura, the last time the Doctor - came, I said to him, “Doctor, you’re winning the game of - chess.” He said, “You’ve been as bad as you could be; but, - under God, you owe your life to the excellent nursing.” ... My - sweet ladies watch me day and night, and seem to think it - fun.... I think in England we add to the miseries of sickness by - looking so anxious and grave. Then, another thing, love, is - this; don’t shut out friends, for fear they should tire the - patient. On Christmas Day, when my life was literally trembling - in the balance, I must have seen more than a hundred, and they - didn’t do me a bit of harm.... Good-bye, darling. Please give all - sorts of kind messages to dear Leila and your other dear ones, - and every one who loves me.... - - ‘Please pray for patience. That is the lesson I have to learn. - “Be still, and know that I am God.” “O rest in the Lord, and - wait patiently for Him.” I mustn’t think even much about - Heaven! I mustn’t be like a soldier pining to get home, when - he’s told to keep quiet in the trenches.’ - -It is impossible not to remember Archbishop Trench’s couplet:-- - - ‘Some are resigned to go; might we such grace attain, - That we should need our resignation to remain!’ - - ‘AMRITSAR, _Jan. 11, 1886_.--I hope that my telegram arrived - before the news that would trouble you. The doctor pronounced - me “out of danger” last Friday, the 8th; so I almost - immediately thought of sending a telegram. Now I’m going to - make a little confession of exaggeration. I told you that I saw - more than one hundred people on Christmas Day. Babu Singha told - me that there were only eighty-four at the feast; so, as babies - count at the feast and didn’t come up to me, I probably didn’t - see more than seventy. I questioned the doctor a little time - ago as to the influx of visitors; and he only told me, that, as - he thought I was sure to die, it didn’t matter whom I saw. But - _I_ didn’t think I was going to die; and you see I was right....’ - - * * * * * - - ‘AMRITSAR, _Jan. 18_.--Thanks were publicly returned in - Amritsar Church yesterday for the recovery of your Char. “Bless - the Lord, O my soul; forget not all His benefits.” ... I am - floating in a sea of delight, and shall certainly look back to - this time of terrible illness as one of the happiest periods of - my life. I am as happy as a Queen. A great deal happier than - the Queen! One of the images that most frequently rises before - my mind, in prayerful thought, is that of our own beloved - Queen. There is something so grand and pathetic in that image, - as our Sovereign Lady sits with her hand on the helm, solitary - at her post of duty, with a revolutionary storm howling and - shrieking around her. The Lord shield her head; strengthen her - hands; give her increasing grace and wisdom; and grant her the - victory over all her enemies. - - ‘I think it would gratify Her Majesty were she to know her - _personal_ influence amongst the Women of India. In zenana - or mud-village, “Maliká Muazima Kaiser-i-Hind”--I generally - give our Sovereign her full title among the Orientals, though - I love “our own dear Queen” much better!--is an object of - interest.... Of course, we inculcate loyalty among our Native - Christians, in our Boarding School at Batala. One of the first - things that would strike the eye of a visitor is “God save - the Queen,”--hung up in the schoolroom.... It would please Her - Majesty, could she hear our Christian boys singing: - - ‘“Let the world know, - Be it friend or foe, - We’ll be true to our Faith and our Queen!” - - The Hindus and Muhammadans might fail us should a storm arise; - the Atheists would be our bitter foes. I believe that many of - our noble Christians would be Faithful unto Death.... - - ‘I have had two such extraordinary attacks of malarious fever.... - For three days and nights, and more, I never slept for a - moment. My mind was sometimes carried, at other times goaded, - in unnatural activity. I had a torrent of thought, which I - could not stop; the first week is to me almost a blank.... Dr. - P. knew nothing of me, nor what a comically allegorical mind - I have. I remember nothing of our interview, but it must have - been inexpressibly funny....’ - -Letters thus far were only dictated. On January 20 is one in her own -handwriting, very feeble and shaky:-- - - ’ ... One does learn such lessons, when lying still for weeks and - weeks, with nothing to do but think. For instance, I remember - grievous sins of omission, which I have never thought of - before.... The duty of Intercessory prayer opens out before me. - Of course, I have always prayed for you, love, and a great many - more; no danger of forgetting. But I _have_ forgotten numbers.’ - -In a circular letter to English friends, dated January 25, she again -and more emphatically asserts her own non-expectation of death during -the late illness: ‘On the worst day I talked Urdu, nothing else, from -morning till night, to imaginary bibis. Almost every one thought me -dying, _except myself_!... I asked the dear, kind, skilful doctor of my -state; he did not know what to say, for he thought me sinking. I asked -dear Mr. Weitbrecht, and he pointed his finger straight downwards. I -quite understood, but did not believe myself dying for all that!’ This -certainly was not the impression of those around her at the time, nor is -it borne out by the things she said. No doubt she was striving to believe -what she longed for,--was hoping that the doctors’ opinion, and not her -own inner sense, might prove to be right. - -Miss Tucker’s ‘horror of alcohol’ is particularly noted by Mr. Clark. -When getting better, she one day remarked to him, ‘What a dear, good -doctor Dr. Clark is! He has brought me through it all, without giving me -any spirits.’ Then, turning to one of her nurses, ‘Isn’t it so, dear?’ -A judicious answer was returned: ‘The doctor gave you just the right -medicine, and you were very good in taking it.’ A little later, when -having another dose of medicine, she said again, ‘Are you _sure_ there -is no alcohol in it?’ ‘It is what the doctor has ordered for you, Auntie -dear. You must just take it, and ask no questions.’ As letters show, it -was not till February that she learned the true state of the case, which -was that she had been kept alive by small doses of stimulant every hour. -The strongest brandy had tasted to her like water. As soon as Miss Tucker -understood how matters had been, she wrote to her sister, to say:-- - - ‘I made a great mistake in my letters home. If from them you - have given to others a wrong impression, please kindly correct - it when opportunity occurs. I wrote that I had had no stimulant - in my illness. I thought that I had not; but I find that I was - utterly wrong. I was kept from sinking, not only by quantities - of quinine, but brandy also. It was strange that I should not - have recognised it; but it was always mixed with something - else.’ - -So steady now was the improvement in her health, that before the middle -of February she was able to get out for drives; on the 14th she went to -Church; and by the 18th she was back again in ‘dear Batala,’--not at -the old palace, but in the Mission Bungalow, ‘Sonnenschein,’ with Miss -Hoernle. A crowd of boys welcomed her at the Railway Station, on her -arrival; and next day a grand Batala feast was given in her honour. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -A.D. 1886-1887 - -IN HARNESS ONCE MORE - - -So severe an illness could not fail to leave traces; and Charlotte Tucker -came out of it more distinctly an old lady than she had ever been before. -Ten years of perpetual toil had used up a large amount of even her -superabundant vitality; and she could not expect to be again fully what -she had been, either as to vigour or powers of endurance. - -But although strength did not return quickly, and work had to be very -slowly resumed, her interest in all that concerned Batala was as vivid -as ever. The letters of 1886 are full of details about various High -School boys,--either those who had been or those who still were scholars. -Letters to Mrs. Hamilton were as long as ever,--longer indeed than in -times of greater work-pressure,--and the shaky hand soon regained its -firmness. - -Immediately after her return to Batala, she wrote as to work generally:-- - - ‘O, there have been such stirring times in our Panjab Mission - field lately! On one side, or rather various sides, the poor, - low-caste people are joyfully receiving the Gospel. One - hears of them listening, with tears running down their brown - cheeks. Dear Miss Hoernle, my chum, is off to Futteyghur, - with a new Bible-woman specially for the poor peasants. - There, after _due examination_, Mr. Weitbrecht has baptized - whole families,--fifty-six individuals,--and I shall probably - hear of many more when Miss Hoernle returns.... All this is - comparatively smooth, for people do not flare up at poor people - being saved; but there has been desperate fighting over dear - lads of good family; prosecution, persecution, pelting, lying, - hand-to-hand struggling; even our chivalrous Missionary, Mr. - Bateman, always ready to be foremost in the fight, owns that he - has never had such a hard case as the last. The dear Convert, - not yet baptized, refused an offer of 10,000 rupees down and - 40,000 in reversion, rather than give up Christ....’ - -Many other particulars, too long to quote, follow. - -The 4th of March was to be, as she wrote, ‘a very great day here; the -greatest Batala has ever known! Our Church is to be consecrated; and -Christians will gather from far and near. One of the most interesting -features of the occasion will be, I trust, the presence of converts.... I -believe that many of them will gladly walk fifteen miles to be present. -One said, in regard to their dress, which is, as you may suppose, of a -very rough kind, “We will come in clean clothes, if it take us four days -to wash them!”’ The last few words were in allusion to very poor village -converts. - -A letter to a little great-nephew, the day after the Consecration, gave -some particulars:-- - - ‘We had a very grand day in Batala yesterday. The Bishop came - to open our fine new Church. A great many ladies and gentlemen - came also. There were two meat meals for them; we sat down - about thirty-four. But one of the most interesting things was - that a good many poor men and boys, whom dear Mr. Weitbrecht - had baptized in the villages, came too. Now, some people are - proud enough to scorn these poor men, because they are of the - low Mihtar caste. But, you know, my T----, that there is plenty - of room in Heaven for Mihtars; and when they shine in white - garments and crowns no one will despise them then. We thought - that it would be a good thing to eat a little with the poor - men, to show that we do not scorn them.... Mr. Bateman, Mrs. - Weitbrecht, and I sat down on the straw, where the poor folk - were eating their dinner, and ate some too. I own that I did - not eat much,--I had had the two meat meals already!... - - ‘Our Church looked very nice. We had to lend three mats for - it; and other things were lent also.... But three beautiful - cushions were not lent. Dear Aunt Mina, her Wilhelmina, and - Cousin Laura worked them years ago for our Church. We took - great care of them, and they look in fine condition.’ - -The Church of the Epiphany at Batala, consecrated on March 4, 1886, by -the Bishop of Lahore, is described as being ‘of brick, plastered with -lime. The style chosen is that of the Mogul period, adapted to the -requirements of a Christian Church. The Church at present consists of a -nave, with clerestory windows, chancel, and porch. Two side-aisles remain -to be added. The present accommodation is 200; when completed it will be -about 500. The Church is situated near the chief gate of Batala, on the -road leading to the railway.’ - -Then came the parting with the Weitbrechts; a sorrowful matter, after -two years together under the same roof. Miss Tucker, though still far -from strong, was sufficiently recovered to travel with them as far as to -Delhi, where she paid a short visit to a widowed niece. While there, on -March 18, she wrote:-- - - ‘Here am I, in the famous old city of Delhi, long the capital - of India; but I go about to see none of its many sights.... The - dear Weitbrechts and I lunched with the Cambridge Mission - yesterday. A fine set of Missionaries, whom one is glad to have - met. I was invited to dine also, I fancy, but I did not care - to have my parting at a dinner-party. I returned here; and - dear Herbert came at past 9 A.M. just to bid me farewell. It - was very kind in him. We were alone in the verandah; and the - parting was almost like that between son and mother.... - - ‘There is an interesting young Missionary here, Mr. Maitland of - the S.P.G. He has been almost at death’s door, and now appears - much in the same state as I was in Amritsar six or seven weeks - ago, coddled and taken care of. He wanted me to come and take - a cup of tea with him, which I did most willingly; and we had - a good chat together. Invalids like visitors, I think. I know - that I did.... - - ‘_22nd._--O, my Laura, have you actually been sending _more_ - money, to meet the expenses of my illness? I do not know what - to say or how to thank you. You must indeed stop overwhelming - your Char!’ - -A very troublesome horse, who broke his harness and refused to be -controlled, was named by her ‘Buzdil,’ or ‘Coward.’ ‘_I_ never attempted -to drive,’ she observed in an April letter, ‘but exhorted him, when I was -beside Maria; but he never minded what I said.’ Then came some ‘rough -lines,’ adapted to an old Scotch air, ‘He’s a terrible man, John Tod, -John Tod!’ - - ‘He’s a terrible horse, Buzdil, Buzdil, - He’s a terrible horse, Buzdil! - He gives start and skip, - Fears all--but the whip, - And cares not a straw for our will! - - ‘He’s broken his harness, Buzdil, Buzdil, - He’s broken his harness, Buzdil! - He’d plunge in a hedge, - Or back on a ledge, - But when urged to go on--he stood still! - - ‘He puzzles his syce, Buzdil, Buzdil, - He worries his syce, Buzdil! - If you take my advice, - He’ll be sold in a trice, - Ere our poor Mission ladies he kill!’ - -Miss Tucker planned starting ‘a very sober, safe kind of vehicle’ to -carry to Church those who could not or might not walk so far, even in -cold weather. It was to be a cart, with a cover to ward off the heat of -the sun, and was to be drawn by bullocks,--a humble conveyance, which -fact was no trouble at all to the mind of Charlotte Tucker. The more -humble, the better fitted in her estimation for a Mission Miss Sahiba! - -In June she went for a complete change to Murree, and was soon able, -while there, to speak of herself as being decidedly stronger, ‘able -without injury to walk twice to Church and back,’ despite a tough hill on -the way. - -One friend, Mrs. Rowland Bateman, meeting her at this time, wrote -afterwards:-- - - ‘It was so very delightful to see her dear face again, and so - nice to get her warm and loving welcome. You know what “pretty” - things she says; so on this occasion she said, “I came (to - the station) for silver, and I found gold!” Very pretty, was - it not? And now let me tell how I thought her looking. It is - five years since I saw her; so of course I saw a good deal of - change. She is looking very much older; but she is as bright as - ever, cracking jokes, and making us all laugh. Then of course, - since her illness, she is very thin, and that makes her face - look older than she would do, were she a little stouter. And - she eats more than she used to do. Five years ago she hardly - ate enough to keep a sparrow alive.... Another thing I was very - glad of, and that was that she does not attempt to do so much. - She gives herself time to rest.’ - -In July Miss Tucker welcomed with eager pleasure a present from her -sister of an ‘excellent likeness’ of the Queen. Charlotte Tucker’s love -for Her Majesty went far beyond ordinary loyalty. It was more of the -nature of a personal romantic passion. - -By the middle of August she was at work again. Mr. Weitbrecht was now -gone, and Mr. Corfield had been seriously ill; so once more the School -was for some time without a Principal on the spot. Many of the boys did -not return to their homes for the holidays; indeed, some young converts -literally had no homes to go to. A. L. O. E. therefore exercised her -powers to find interests and amusements for them. About this time also -she started Shakespeare readings in Batala, of which she says:-- - - ‘_Aug. 11._--Perhaps I told you that I had begun Shakespeare - readings. I had five readings of Henry VIII., with fair - success; so I thought that I would begin _Macbeth_, which I - think the most striking of all Shakespeare’s dramas. But it - was a dead failure here! The Natives could not understand it; - and those who came to the first reading were _non inventus_ at - the--what would have been the second reading. So I have changed - my book, and intend to-day to begin to read aloud my Laura’s - capital present, the particularly amusing _Life of Buckland_. - Fish instead of furies!--salmon instead of slaughter!’ - -From many letters it may be seen that she was soon in a steady swing -again, both with Zenana and with Village visiting; but the amount -attempted seems to have been more moderate than formerly. Few quotations -must suffice:-- - - ‘_Oct. 15, 1886._--Now I will tell you about a visit which I - paid yesterday to a Zenana, where the Bibi used to be very - bigoted. Yesterday I came on her husband, a grave, middle-aged - man. So he heard what I had to say. Then he asked me to give - him _a picture of Christ_. Very strict Muhammadans object to - pictures; but he wanted one of the Saviour. I, as a rule, never - give pictures, though I show them; but I happened to have three - small pictures, cut out from periodicals,--not coloured,--and - I felt impelled to grant the grave man’s request. I let him - choose. He took the copy of the famous picture--is it not - Leonardo da Vinci’s?--of the Blessed One, crowned with thorns, - and put it carefully by in a paper. Will that suffering, - pathetic Face speak to the Muhammadan’s heart? N. is no - unlearned man. He told me that he had been our K. B.’s teacher. - “Were you angry with K. B.?” I asked,--meaning for becoming a - Christian! The grave man quietly replied in the negative.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Nov. 6._--I have lately been paying more attention to - children in the Zenanas,--partly perhaps because they seem - to pay more attention to what I say. When they listen in - perfect stillness, one cannot but hope that the young hearts - are receiving some seed of life. I had very quiet, attentive - little listeners in a Zenana yesterday. When I went to another, - some of the children followed me, but the bibi forbade them to - come in. In vain I pleaded that they did not make the least - noise; she bade them go and play. But after I had read to that - woman, and proceeded to another house, children came after me, - I think two or three of the same ones. That little book, with - gaily-coloured pictures, about little Daisy, which you sent me, - is invaluable....’ - -Miss Krapf in her turn had had a serious breakdown; and she did not -return to Batala. In her place, towards the end of the year, came -Miss Minnie Dixie, who was to be Miss Tucker’s constant companion and -fellow-inmate of the Mission Bungalow for seven years or more. By the -time Miss Dixie arrived, as ‘Sonnenschein’ was made only to take in two -ladies, and Miss Hoernle was still there, Miss Tucker had doubtless moved -into her own little annexe,--the new west wing of the Bungalow, which she -had prettily named ‘Sunset!’ - -A ground-plan of the Bungalow gives a good idea of this latest earthly -home of Charlotte Tucker. One large room was divided by screens into -bedroom and sitting-room. In front and behind were verandahs; while one -side was joined to ‘Sonnenschein,’ and on the other lay dressing-room -and bathroom. Miss Tucker lived in her own tiny ‘Sunset,’ but she took -her meals with the other ladies in ‘Sunshine,’ and their evenings were -often, if not regularly, spent together. ‘We are a happy little band of -Europeans at Batala,’ she wrote in the November of 1886. - -The year closed with a characteristic little episode, by which it might -be seen that the old energy and impetuosity were by no means snuffed -out of existence. A young lady, not of the Batala party, was going to a -certain doctor at ----, of whose skill Miss Tucker was more than dubious. -She had, as we have seen, no very flattering opinion of the medical -faculty in general; always with charming exceptions, where personal -intercourse interfered with theories. On the present occasion it was not -a man but ‘a dreadful woman doctor’ in the case. On learning that all was -arranged, Miss Tucker exclaimed, ‘You shall not go alone, dear. I will -go with you.’ And go she did; regardless of age, of weakness, of cold -weather, of long journeying. - -Nor was this all! On reaching ----, Miss Tucker was so utterly -dissatisfied with the apparent state of things, that she flatly refused -to give up the patient to the doctor. After what she describes as ‘a -fight,--will against will!’ she fairly carried off her charge to the -house of a friend in the place; and next day ran away with her, by -train, to a distant town. The patient happily fell thereafter into kind -and skilful hands; and Charlotte Tucker congratulated herself upon -her own prompt and decisive action. Whether or no her fears were well -founded, one cannot but admire her self-sacrificing readiness to endure -any amount of worry, fatigue, and responsibility on behalf of another. -The last thing Charlotte Tucker ever did was ‘to pass by on the other -side,’ when a human being was in need of help. She never dreamt of -sparing herself. - -Many letters this year bear reference to the different pretty and useful -articles sent out by friends and working-parties for sale or for gifts. -With respect to those for sale, she did indeed exclaim in one letter: ‘I -wish dear kind friends would sell the things themselves, and simply give -us the money! They do not think of the added difficulty of insects and -climate! I fear that a good many things get spoiled.’ This however was -not the usual strain in which she acknowledged such parcels. Here are a -few specimen sentences, culled from letters of different dates, to Miss -Longley:-- - - ‘I received your kind letter to-day, and do not delay thanking - you heartily for the account of what the dear Warwickshire - children are doing for the Mission cause.... The dolls are - capital gifts to send. Our little Fatimas and Barakats, etc., - like them so much.’ - - ‘Your very nice box of attractive dolls, those that can open - and shut their eyes, and a number of prettily-dressed sisters - clustering together like birdies in a nest, safely reached - me to-day.... They have come in excellent time, for our annual - examination has been delayed.... How pleased our little Panjabi - maidens will be with their dolls,--even blind girls would be - charmed, I think! The clever dolls that can open and shut - their eyes ought to be very special prizes.... Dolls are great - favourites with Native children, and I do not wonder at this. - The Native toys look very coarse beside the elegantly-dressed - little ladies from dear old England.’ - - ‘Dolls are much liked by our dark-eyed little maidens. Not only - little girls; but I suspect that many a mother would be pleased - to possess one of the quiet, rosy-cheeked babies from England, - that never cry nor give any trouble. Your useful work-basket - must, I think, be presented to some Native Christian girl who - is fond of work.... Native Christians also would, I think, most - value the scrap-books so kindly prepared. At Christmas we have - a bran-pie, only for Christians, and we have to get ready about - eighty gifts, even in this out-of-the-way Batala. I begin my - preparations very early. I assure you that our children are not - “black.” Some of the Natives are quite pretty, and I think not - darker than Spaniards. I every now and then see a child with - brown hair, perhaps curly.’ - - ‘We have numbers of young people here. It would amuse some of - your workers to hear a few of their names translated. We have - amongst girls, Flower, Beloved, Lady of Light, An Offering, - etc.,--amongst boys, Valiant, Feet of Christ, Diamond-pearl, - Welfare, etc. A nice young convert has the pretty name of - “Gift of the Merciful.” A little boy is “The Mercy of God.” - His father’s name is “The Power of God.” Fancy a number of - dark-eyed men, women, and children, with these curious names, - assembled around our bran-pie (it is really a bath), and some - of the pretty presents from Warwick popping out to delight - them.’ - -Dolls are spoken of again and again, as if too many could not possibly be -sent; but many other things are mentioned also,--such as antimacassars, -pretty handkerchiefs, boxes of sugar-plums, a nice inkstand, and so on. -An unlimited amount of presents for Indian Christians at Christmas-time -was evidently a pressing need. Articles for sale had to be sent to -Amritsar or elsewhere, as there was no demand for them in Batala. - -In February 1887 two little ones came to her for a short stay at Batala -on their way to England,--the tiny grandchildren of her brother, Mr. -St. George Tucker. Children had always a great attraction for her; and -immediately letters became full of the small pair, their pretty ways -and sayings and doings. Miss Tucker had to make arrangements for their -journey home. Writing on March 17 to her niece, Miss Edith Tucker, she -exclaims:-- - - ‘O these children! they are such darlings! Edie will not be - three till the 19th, but she is as sensible as if double the - age; and seems to take a sort of care of her brother. She is - such an honourable little girl too. Mrs. C., the very nice - matron here, has been very much struck by this. “It must be - hereditary,” she said; “she could not have got it from her - ayah.”[118] ... My heart feels very tender towards the loving - pets, whom I shall never see on earth again. God grant us a - joyful meeting before the Throne!... - - ‘I sometimes think how proud dear Sir Frederick Abbott[119] - will be of his descendants. Please congratulate him and dear - Lady Abbott from me.’ - -In another letter, about the same date, and also on the subject of the -children, written to Miss Alice Tucker, A. L. O. E. speaks of having been -kicked by a horse in a small Muhammadan courtyard,--happily not a severe -kick. The horse struck out sharply, but she had just stepped back, and -the force of the blow was also broken by the umbrella which she held. She -escaped therefore with only ‘a harmless contusion.’ It might have been a -very grave accident. - -On March 26 comes a short letter to Mrs. Hamilton, jubilant at the -thought of a visit from her friend, Mr. Francis Baring:-- - - ‘To-day my darlings embark on the wide, wide ocean, dear little - “travellers by land and by water”! What sweet blossoms of the - fourth generation grow on our honoured Father’s family tree! I - am sure that you think _your_ pet no exception.... - - ‘I received a note the other day, which made my heart joyful: - it was from Mera Bhatija. - - “He’s coming again! he’s coming again! - Oh, but he’s been long awa’, - Far frae his ain,” etc. - - He is coming all the way from M----, for Batala’s ninth - birthday. I correct the boys’ letters to-day, and am pleased at - the tone in which they write regarding his coming. - - ‘R. “Won’t it be a grand thing to see our dear old Principal - again?” R. C. “The Rev. F. H. Baring will be here, and I hope - there will be a grand feast, and racing, jumping, etc. How - happy we shall be to see the father of our school!” ... I shall - like to look at dear Babu Singha’s face, when he grasps the - hand of his old patron.’ - -Another letter, April 6, refers to a slight operation which she had had -to undergo, for continued weakness of one eye. ‘It needed the prick -of the lancet and the entrance of the probe. It was a mere trifle of -an operation; Henry[120] is so gentle and kind, she wrote cheerily; -then, later in the same letter: ‘Now I must be off for church. We have -a great deal of church-going in this Holy Week. I have to play the -harmonium to-day. This week Minnie and I have been taking the privilege -alternately.’ - -She was greatly interested this year in a young Muhammadan, who seemed -much disposed towards Christianity, yet was never able to make up his -mind or to act with decision. He appeared, as she said in one letter, to -have clearly ‘two wills,--one desiring Baptism,’ the other drawing him -among the enemies of Christianity. ‘He swings from good to evil like a -very pendulum,’ she observed. ‘We cannot keep him from the Muhammadans; -yet the Muhammadans cannot keep him from Christ.’ In another May letter -she wrote of him: ‘B. P. interested me yesterday by trying to make me get -one of the boys here off with the latter part of a punishment. “You are -a kind of mother,” said he. “When the father is angry, the mother should -plead.” Natives do not clearly understand about discipline and justice; -even Christian Natives are apt to think that offenders should be quickly -forgiven, however disastrous the results might be. Abstract justice -to the Oriental sometimes looks like revenge. How often have I heard -Muhammadans say, “God is the Forgiver!”--with this they put conscience to -rest. But a good many, called Christians, fall into the dangerous mistake -of imagining the pure holy God to be too loving to be just. It is the -echo of Satan’s lie, “Ye shall _not_ surely die.”’ - -In June came one of the heaviest blows of all her Missionary career,--a -very dark shadow indeed upon its brightness. This was the sudden and -unexpected apostasy of one who for years had belonged to their little -band of Christians,--one of the first Native Christians whom she had -learnt to know on her earliest arrival at Amritsar,--one whom she had -loved and trusted, and whom she had looked upon as not only a follower of -Christ by profession but in very truth. She felt the defection of this -man with exceeding acuteness. He has been once or twice already referred -to as Z., or Maulvi Z., and he might have been referred to dozens of -times. The first letter on this sad subject to Mrs. Hamilton was written -while Miss Tucker was away from home, staying with Mr. and Mrs. Francis -Baring. - - ‘_June 23, 1887._--I am certainly stronger, and should like the - visit to the dear excellent Barings much, if I had not such - troubles. From Batala Mission has come such a shock! Fancy - Maulvi Z. and his family going over to the Muhammadans,--he who - for about twelve years had been such a well-known member of - the Church,--she who for eighteen months worked as an Honorary - Bible-woman! Both, with their nice eldest son, took the - Communion with me this very month! It is terrible! The wretched - Maulvi is to receive 40s. for teaching in an opposition school, - just set up to injure our Mission School.... The Muhammadans have - had rejoicings and fireworks,--the enemies of the Lord will - triumph and blaspheme. But I believe that Z. has no faith in - the false prophet, and that he _has_ loved the Saviour. The - prodigal may come back, but probably after terrible judgments, - for he is sinning against light and love. I have not the heart - to write on other subjects.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_June 29, 1887._--I propose starting for Batala early on - Monday the 11th. I must be in time for the prize-givings and - a feast. Mera Bhatija had a letter to-day from ----, who does - not think that Z.’s terrible apostasy has done any harm to the - Christian cause in Batala. The more respectable Muhammadans do - not trust him, and our preachers are listened to as well as - before. But oh, the wretched man himself and his family! I must - not dwell on a subject which has made me so unhappy.’ - -She could not, however, keep from recurring to it once and again, as -darker details came out. Indignation at the conduct of the apostate was -equalled by her pity for the unhappy man himself. Writing on July 29, -still on the same subject, she said: ‘He did harm in the school while -teaching here. Some of the Muhammadans despise him. A most sarcastic, -_withering_ article has come out in a Muhammadan newspaper against the -apostate.’ - -On reaching home another trial assailed her. One of her most trusted -servants, mentioned repeatedly as V., proved to be utterly dishonest, -and had to be dismissed. Miss Tucker felt this too very acutely. ‘In all -my Missionary life,’ she wrote on July 16, ‘I never knew such a year as -this.’ - -Miss Dixie was at this time away, and two or three short extracts from -letters to her may be given:-- - - ‘_July 18, 1887._--Welcome, dearest Minnie, _home_! We are to - have a picnic in celebration of your return. Please travel in - a duli, if the roads are very bad, as they are pretty sure - to be. Tell us when and where to send for you. We have had - many troubles at Batala since you left,--the unhappy Maulvi - not only apostatising himself and family, but slandering his - former friends right and left. I have dismissed V., and P. has - followed him. A sight of your dear kind face will be a cheer to - your affectionate Auntie.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_July 30._--What an adventurous journey my dearest Minnie - had! Thank God, dear, that you are all safe and right.... I seem - always to be asking you to excuse short letters; but the fact - is that almost everything is an effort to me. I just manage to - get through a little work, but seem not to be able for much - correspondence just at present.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Aug. 10._--I am glad that you are well and happy. You must - not think that I forget you, because I write little. It is - rather a case of “duties thronging round,” and not much - strength to perform them.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Aug. 16._--We have had _such_ floods! On Sunday there was - no attempt to reach the large Church. There was Service in - Anarkalli; but _that_ was surrounded with water. Some went on - horseback, some in dulis.’ - -One letter to Mrs. Hamilton contains a brief description of her own -work:-- - - ‘_Aug. 31._--I go, you know, to city work in the morning. After - our late breakfast I have a succession of people coming. For - instance, to-day,--1st, Munshi and four boys. 2nd, A convert - came, to read the Bible to me. 3rd, A teacher came, for me to - explain difficult English idioms. 4th, Three lads for English - lessons. 5th, A fourth lad more advanced. You see, love, that - this is not a sleepy life, though in this warm weather I - usually get some sleep in the daytime. I like having the dear - boys. They have done much to keep the heart green under various - Missionary discouragements.’ - -On the 9th of September, responding to Mrs. Hamilton’s letter upon the -unhappy subject related above, she said:-- - - ‘I fear that I cannot share your hopes.... A man who for nearly - twelve years passed as a Christian, took the Sacrament not - many days before he became apostate, spoke coarsely of the - Holy Communion to Muhammadans, and bitterly of Christians, - ... seems to me _almost_ past hope. He has, as far as he - could, “crucified the Son of God afresh” and “put Him to an - open shame.” ... Instead of, as you sweetly write, “bitterly - lamenting, like St. Peter,” poor Z. day by day sits by his - mosque, deceiving the people.’ - -One more quotation on this sad subject may be made from a letter, -dated April 12, 1889, when Miss Tucker was perplexed what to do about -seeing some relatives of the unhappy apostate, who were staying with -him. ‘Bishop French excommunicated ---- (we do not call him Z. now), -and forbade Christians having intercourse with him.... It would clearly -be wrong to throw over the ----s, who had _not_ left the Fold. I asked -counsel from Herbert, and guidance from One Higher.’ Eventually she did -manage to see the relatives while avoiding the apostate. - -Until the year 1886 Miss Tucker apparently kept no regular written record -of her daily work. But in the August of that year, doubtless from a sense -that her memory was becoming less trustworthy than of old, she started a -Journal, which was kept up until within three weeks or so of her death. -The Journal consists of 273 closely written foolscap pages; and, as Miss -Wauton says, they ‘give us a glimpse of the earnest, unremitting toil -of those seven years in the Batala Zenanas.’ The volume opens with a -list of about 173 names of those whom she was then visiting; and this -continued to be about the average number throughout the seven years; some -Zenanas being from time to time closed, while new ones were opened. To -quote again from Miss Wauton, whose long Indian and Missionary experience -renders her judgment especially valuable:-- - - ‘Besides being a record of Zenana work, the Diary records many - little incidents in connection with the daily life; _e.g._ - notices of the arrivals and departures of fellow-workers, and - of the many friends and visitors who came to see her. There - are numerous references to the boys of the Baring High School, - any sickness or death amongst them, the subjects taken in her - classes with them and with the boys of the Mission Plough.... - All speak of the many objects embraced by her wide sympathies. - But the Zenana teaching is always first and foremost. Other - things come in, as it were, by the way. The whole Diary shows - how carefully and methodically she carried on this visiting, - and what infinite pains she took to find out and invent things - which would help to attract the people, and open the way for - the delivery of her message. - - ‘Her inventive genius enabled her to do this very effectively; - and the wonderful pictures and allegorical designs she took - with her opened many doors, which would have probably remained - fast barred against a less winning visitor. These charms were - very varied. She seems generally to have taken one with her to - every place she went to; and to have changed it from time to - time, as the lesson to be taught from it had been learnt, or - the novelty had worn off. - - ‘These are all entered in the Diary as “Ladder,” “Jewel,” - “Zouave,” “Pagoda,” “Prism,” “Crosses,” “Tree,” “Purse,” etc. - The first was a ladder, painted in various colours, showing the - different steps by which the sinner mounts up from grace to - glory. The second is a jewel, covered over with several pieces - of cloth, representing the different veils, such as ignorance, - prejudice, self-righteousness, which, covering man’s heart, - conceal from his view and hinder his attainment of the jewel - of Truth. But these contrivances were not the only key with - which these bigoted Zenanas were opened. We find in the Journal - frequent memoranda of little gifts to be taken to certain - houses,--“sandcloth,” on the occasion of a wedding or birth, - “medicine,” “quinine,” “spectacles,” “tea,” “soap,” etc. The - Scripture subjects spoken upon each day are also entered.... - - ‘Her love of children was remarkable; and in many cases, where - the elder members of the household refused to listen, she would - get an interested audience from amongst the little ones. She - writes in one place, “Such nice children!” in another, “I found - myself stroking little cheeks.” ... Another striking feature of - Miss Tucker was the courage and indomitable perseverance which - she showed in the most difficult and trying circumstances. - “Nil Desperandum” was her favourite motto, and she carried it - out fully. Sometimes she was rudely treated, sometimes even - insulted; but nothing daunted her.’ - -Here are a few specimen extracts from the Journal, including one or two -of unusual length. The majority are exceedingly short. I do not give the -correct initials for either Zenanas or people:-- - - ‘_Aug. 24, 1886._--A. very nice sick father, twelve quiet - children; Mark ii. - - B. a little better, Christ blessing children. - - C. disappointing; outburst of bigotry; M. however silent. - - D. friendly; read three parables. Good listening. - - E. very indifferent. Bibis. Mark vii. N. left. - - * * * * * - - _Aug. 25._--F. fair. - - G. Had very nice talk with him. Prodigal Son. From John iii. - New. H.’s nice wife. Seemed almost Christian. Ditto. - - J. nice. Boy, ----, promised book if he comes. From Matt. x. - - K. Send cloth to new baby. Read a little of Xt.’s Birth. - - * * * * * - - _Aug. 26._--L. careless.... I do not remember what I read.... - - M. Only children attended. Children A., D.’ - - * * * * * - - _Sept. 1._--L. very cross, ill-tempered, loud voice. Rebuked by - elder woman. I showed picture of Christ healing, quoted “Learn - of Me.” After a while face quite softened, voice subdued.... Last - thing promised she would go to church....’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Dec. 15, 1886._--Rudely treated. Man with unpleasant face - and blemished eye shook the charpai (bedstead) on which I was - seated four times, to make me get off. Went to second place; - people noisy. A man asked me to read of Christ, and I began. - Was asked to go to more open place. Went,--found open place was - the _outside_ of the village. Had to go off. - - ‘B. H. (another village). Rejected here also. Even a tiny clod - was thrown. I told people at both villages that I prayed God - to forgive them for their conduct to His servant. Ours is a - religion of love.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Jan. 28, 1887._--P. very nice. Q., a youth, hearing of Last - Judgment, says that he wants to be a right-side one, and will - pray to be so. He is going to marry; says wife and he will both - be right side. He means to send her to our school. He learned - in Mission Plough.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_May 12, 1887._ ... (List of names.) Except ----‘s house, none - really satisfactory. My heart very sad. There seems hardly any - good ground in Batala.’ - -The names of Zenanas, villages, and people living in either, are -generally printed in dark letters on the left side of the page, while -the coming and going of Missionaries and friends, as well as items of -home news, are printed on the right side. On February 15, 1887, is the -terse entry, ‘Operation on eye’; and the very next day, almost equally -terse, ‘I was kicked by a horse.’ Towards the end of the same month is a -characteristic notice of the death of one of her nieces, printed large: -‘VESA LEFT EARTH!’ Death to her meant simply this,--leaving Earth for a -‘better Country.’ - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -A.D. 1887-1888 - -A VISIT FROM BISHOP FRENCH - - -One matter of marked interest in the year 1887 was the retirement of -Bishop French from the Bishopric of Lahore, and his return to the humbler -post of simple Missionary. This step appealed strongly to Miss Tucker’s -sense of admiration. On the 8th of October she wrote to Mrs. Hamilton:-- - - ‘I have already, as you see, written a good deal by this mail, - ... but I will not let the post for England go without at least - a few loving lines to my own dearest sister. The dear good - Bishop is resigning. I hear that he feels it sorely; but he has - no intention of leaving work. He resigns the _English_ part - into what he feels to be stronger hands,--but will, I believe, - continue Missionary work amongst Natives. He was _first_ a - Missionary; and--dear man!--it is not improbable that he will - die a Missionary. To lay down a mitre is no degradation!’ - -A few days later, having heard that the Bishop purposed paying her a -little visit at Batala, she wrote to him direct:-- - - ‘BATALA, _Oct. 20, 1887_. - - REVERED BISHOP,--Though I know not whether this will reach you - till after your return from Batala, I cannot forbear thanking - you for your affectionate letter, and intention of gratifying - me by visiting my simple little Missionary home. I received - your letter at Amritsar, having--for a wonder--left Batala to - be present at the wedding of dear old Mr. Newton’s grandson at - Ludhiana. This has occasioned a little delay in my replying. - Mr. Corfield also was absent, having gone to bring his wife - from Dharmsala; but we expect him to-morrow morning, and then - he shall know your wishes. I think that you will find the - Ghurub-i-Aftab very quiet. You will see visitors or not, just - as you please,--only give a hint of your wishes. When the dear - Lord’s Servants honour me with a visit, I say that they gild my - floors. - - ‘If it be not presumptuous in me to say so, I would express - my feeling that there is something beautiful and elevating in - the idea of one who was a Missionary before he was a Bishop, - becoming a Missionary _after_ leaving his Bishopric; laying - down the crozier and mitre, to take up the simple Evangelist’s - staff. Perhaps, my honoured Friend,--if permitted to call - you so,--your grandest work is yet to come.--Yours with - affectionate respect, - - C. M. TUCKER. - - ‘_P.S._--Please offer my affectionate and grateful remembrances - to dear Mrs. French.’ - -The Bishop’s visit came about, as hoped for; and it was a great pleasure -to Miss Tucker to receive him. Although they might differ on certain -points, they were one in absolute love and obedience to the same Lord -and Master; and each thoroughly appreciated, thoroughly delighted in, -the whole-hearted and single devotion of the other. In some respects the -two were much alike. There was in both, as Dr. Weitbrecht has said, ‘a -fiery impatience of difficulty or delay which sometimes led to mistakes.’ -In both also there was a remarkable _upliftedness_,--if the word is -permissible,--an absorption in things spiritual, which made earthly -matters seem altogether unimportant by comparison. - -The one drawback to Miss Tucker’s enjoyment was that she gave up to the -Bishop her own little ‘house,’--and such changes had at her time of life -grown to be somewhat of a trial. But she would not hear of a gentleman -being permitted to sleep in ‘Sonnenschein,’ with the younger ladies,--not -even her beloved and revered Bishop!! She had not perhaps entirely even -yet lost sight of her old favourite idea of a home for Mission Miss -Sahibas, into which a man’s foot might not enter. At all events, she -decided to sleep there herself, and to give up her little Sunset home to -the Bishop. Which she did. - -‘It was beautiful to see them together,’ Miss Dixie has said, when -speaking of this visit, which lasted somewhat under a week. The Bishop -and Miss Tucker went about in company, attended church together, and -had many a long talk,--both of them white-haired, fragile in look, worn -out with heavy toil, aged beyond their years. Both would be so utterly -absorbed in the subject under discussion, as to see nothing around, to -hear nothing that went on. There was about each of them a remarkable -_Other-worldliness_, to use a curious term, sometimes employed in this -sense. They were citizens of Heaven, not of Earth; and they realised the -fact to an extent not often equalled. - -But with all her ‘Other-worldliness,’ Miss Tucker never lost the sense of -fun and humour, as connected with the things of this world. One amusing -little incident is told of the Bishop’s visit. He had brought with him -a Muhammadan manservant. Miss Tucker habitually kept in her cupboard a -small bottle of brandy, in case of need,--the brandy being well dosed -with quinine, to render it unattractive. When the Bishop was gone, this -little bottle was found to have vanished also. Miss Tucker, on making the -discovery, went back to her friends, to exclaim, with an indescribable -expression, ‘That greedy Muhammadan has taken the brandy?’--then bursting -into a fit of laughter at the thought of his surprise on tasting the -quinine. She often referred to this afterwards with great amusement. - -It was remarkable in A. L. O. E. that she still, in old age, remembered -and carefully followed in small matters her parents’ wishes. Not of -course that her life was shaped by them. Probably old Mr. Tucker would -have disapproved of few things more highly than of a woman undertaking -such work as she undertook; but here she followed the dictates of her own -conscience. In slighter questions, where conscience was not involved, -she loved to do what they had of old desired. Still, as always, she rose -early to work, and went to bed in good time, according to the promise -given long, long before. Still, when she drank afternoon tea, she always -took something to eat with it, because ‘her Mother had liked her to -do so.’ And often, though old and weak, when she caught herself to be -stooping, she still would pull herself sharply upright, and say: ‘I -remembered,--my dear Father always wanted me to sit straight.’ - -While habitually much interested in engagements and marriages, she was -particular as to modes of speech on such subjects. Once or twice, when -some girl-visitor spoke with what she considered an unbecoming lightness, -upon some matter of love or love-making, Miss Tucker observed, after the -girl’s departure,--‘My dear, what a vulgar person!!’ - -The same curious diversity of opinion as to particular points of Miss -Tucker’s character which was observable in her English life, is also -observable in her Indian life. Here again are opposite opinions. One -says, ‘She was so peculiarly sympathetic!’ Another, with equally good -opportunities for judging, says, ‘Exceedingly kind, but not sympathetic.’ -One says, ‘She was so well able to put herself into the place of another -in trouble!’ Another says, ‘No tact; the kindest intentions, but she did -not always know how to manage.’ - -The explanation lies, no doubt, at least in part, in her own -many-sidedness, and in the very different manner in which she was -affected by different people. Some appealed to her tenderness; some only -called out her kindliness. She could and did love intensely; but only in -particular cases: and though to a wide outer circle she gave love, it was -of a less ardent nature. Moreover, she _could_ dislike people; and when -she once took a marked dislike, though this was seldom, it would be not -quite easy to make her view with fairness that person’s doings. - -She was very impulsive still; the same eager, enthusiastic warm-hearted -being, who had lived in girlhood at No. 3,--modified, but not -intrinsically different. Possibly, in old age, with weakened health, -after living practically much alone, the natural tendency to hasty -judgments may have somewhat increased. But if so, there was also an -increase in the spirit of humility, a far greater readiness than of -old to acknowledge herself mistaken or in the wrong. By nature she was -not gentle and had not self-control; and physical weakness doubtless -often rendered the fight harder,--yet she persevered in the fight with -never-failing resolution. - -Sometimes she would hear of a thing done by one of the younger -Missionaries, and would at once condemn it, not waiting to learn all -the circumstances, and speaking with some severity. A few days later -something would turn up, explaining more fully the why and the wherefore -of the action in question; and then she would say frankly, ‘Well, I -think I was wrong, after all! I think you were right to do as you did!’ -A smaller and less noble nature would probably have refused to see the -mistake, and would have clung obstinately to its own way of thinking. - -Although she would occasionally _speak_ hastily, she did not as a rule -_write_ hastily. If she could not in her letters praise a person, she -would cease to bring forward that person’s name,--at all events in -letters meant for general reading. - -It may also be noted here that, as time went on, Charlotte Tucker, in -her extreme desire for Missionary simplicity and economy, had become a -little apt to push matters in that direction to an excess. Few people -are constituted as she was, to toil hard and to live long upon the -smallest possible minimum of food. As some of the weakness of old age -crept over her, she was perhaps not always _quite_ reasonable respecting -Missionary requirements and necessities. She would at times seem to -expect others, for the sake of economy, to do with what she herself found -sufficient, but which to their different constitutions meant something -like semi-starvation. This at least is the impression of one who ought to -be accounted a good judge, and it appears to have been in some degree a -trouble to certain of her companions. - -During all those long years of Indian life, amid the variety of people -with whom she was thrown, while there were many whom she could love, and -some whom she could love most warmly, there were also naturally a few -who did not suit her, any more than she suited them. She may have been -somewhat of a trial to them; and undoubtedly they were very much of a -trial to her; yet despite all her natural impetuosity and impatience of -disposition, she bore long and patiently in such cases. As one says, who -was with her in some of those later years, ‘Although sometimes hasty in -judging, she was also capable of much forbearance.’ - -It is noticeable that one who knew her well speaks of a remarkable -softening and increase of gentleness during the last three years of her -life. Naturally very ‘up and down’ in her moods, she became then far -more uniformly bright. The fruit was growing very ripe, almost ready to -drop from the tree. Miss Wauton, too, tells of the growing loveliness of -expression in her face, as the end drew nearer. But we have not yet quite -arrived at those last three years. - -By this time Miss Tucker was a little apt to fall behind in new methods -of work, and to cling to what was old-fashioned. Needful changes in -the High School were at first a trouble to her, even though they might -be real improvements, tending to render the school more efficient. She -liked, for instance, to drop in at odd hours, and to ‘take a class,’ -after the manner of an English squire’s daughter dropping into the -village school. As numbers and discipline increased it was found to be -not always a convenient plan, and objections were made. Miss Tucker one -day, in a fit of depression at having to give up this and other things, -is recorded to have said, ‘My work is done! I don’t care how soon I go -now!’ - -This happily was a mere passing fit of sadness. It was soon after -arranged that a Class of the older youths should go to her for -instruction on Sunday afternoons; and in the class she found very great -interest. She would also ask her ‘dear boys,’ a few at a time, to spend -week-day evenings with her, for games of play, which she enjoyed fully as -much as they did. She was very much beloved by the boys; and they were no -less delighted to come to her than she was to have them. Her influence -over these boys, over Indian Christians generally, and over most of the -Missionaries with whom she came in contact, will never be forgotten. - -The springy step of earlier years was not quite lost, even in old age. -Another thing that she kept remarkably long was, as earlier stated, her -voice for singing. It had of course grown thin and weak, and was now a -good deal cracked; still she did not sing out of tune; and her enjoyment -in singing never failed. It was with her the natural expression of her -feelings. When she sang in Church, and when she played the harmonium, -her whole face would light up in a marvellous manner. Indians--not -Christians--would walk long distances, and be present in Church, simply -to look upon the face of the Buzurg Miss Sahiba, as she sang or played. -Such an illumination on the face of a human being was counted well worth -some exertion to see. Another account tells of a Native who would go to -Church for the express purpose of watching her look, when she recited the -_Gloria_. It was all so _real_ to A. L. O. E. Her very smile was a sermon -in itself. - -All these years Zenana teaching went steadfastly on. She ever had before -her mind a keen sense that her own call might come before another -morning’s dawn, and that the present might be her last opportunity of -speaking. Sometimes she would be depressed when reading of others who -had had more apparent results to their work; yet through countless -discouragements she never slackened. - -The same Native Christian from whom I have quoted earlier as to the -non-success, in his opinion, of her Missionary labours, says also -about Miss Tucker: ‘She was far from being a good judge of the Indian -character. I remember her pointing to a Native Christian, and saying that -the very light of Heaven was being reflected from his countenance, when -in fact he had almost apostatised.’ But this was simply a repetition of -the old tendency to think always the very best of everybody,--the habit -being cultivated to such an excess as materially to interfere with her -powers of perception in particular cases. It does not touch the question -of her general understanding of the Indian character. Penetration, as to -individuals, was hardly one of her gifts; and few would hesitate to agree -to the assertion that she thought a great deal better of many Natives -than, unfortunately, they deserved. Her eyes were opened slowly through -bitter and repeated disappointments. But to the last she would probably -have preferred to be sometimes deceived, rather than to be always -suspecting. - -In the continuous pressure of her work and trials, Charlotte Tucker was -a woman of prayer. Not that she was given to long and wordy outpourings; -but she lived on the border-land of the Unseen, and she held incessant -intercourse with her Divine Master. Whatever she felt, whatever she -wanted, when she was afraid, when she was depressed, when things went -wrong, when she could not see her way, the first impulse of her heart was -always--prayer! Then she would wait to see His Will. - -Systematic as were the entries in her Journal, those last few years -of life, she was apt to be a little forgetful,--which no doubt was the -very reason that she started the Journal. She would come in and say -to Miss Dixie, ‘Such a sweet young Bibi in a Zenana to-day, dear. She -wants to see you.’ When Miss Dixie asked where the young Bibi lived, -her recollections were confused, and she could not say. The name of -Bibi, husband, and house had all escaped. Miss Dixie would then have to -question the bearers as to where they had taken Miss Tucker, and so find -out particulars. - -The writing of books and booklets still continued to some extent; indeed, -it could not have been long before this that she achieved a good-sized -volume for young English readers, called--_Pictures of St. Peter in -an English Home_. As its name might imply, it was controversial in -character, being written against the errors of the Roman Church. She -could not, however, work so hard now with her pen as in earlier years. -Dr. Weitbrecht states that ‘her books for publication in England, the -proceeds of which went to support local work, were mostly written during -her brief summer holiday. It was when she felt her powers failing in -this line that she set aside part of her patrimony to endow the “Mission -Plough.”’ - -The absence of allusions to her own writings in years of correspondence -is remarkable. Once in a way she speaks of what she is doing, but this is -quite the exception. Her natural reserve showed strongly here. She had -also a curious dislike to being questioned--a fact noticed by relatives -in her English life years before; and one of her Missionary companions -tells of it also. If questions were put direct, she would say, ‘I am -not your Mother-Superior; don’t appeal to me!’--when her questioner was -longing to have the benefit of her years of experience. A story is told -of one gentleman, who came from a considerable distance, on purpose to -consult Miss Tucker about some books that he meant to publish. The call -was a failure. Instead of gradually getting into conversation, and -luring her on to tell what she knew, he asked point-blank the things -that he wanted to hear; and the result was _nil_. On his way back to the -station, he inquired whether Miss Tucker had not lost her memory. Not at -all, he was told,--but direct questioning always checked information. - -In the November of 1887 the small Star-Dispensary was opened by Dr. -Weitbrecht, for Miss Dixie. She had undergone some training in England; -and though not ‘qualified,’ she had it in her power to do much more for -the women and children of the neighbourhood than their own people could -do for them. Many objections have been made to the idea of a Dispensary -anywhere, without a properly qualified doctor; and no doubt as soon as -possible the latter should in all cases be supplied. But where a doctor -cannot be had, then in default of what is better, a trained nurse can -do a great deal to help, in ordinary cases of sickness or accident. The -reception given to this little Dispensary soon showed how much it was -valued. - -In a letter of December 9th are some words of depression under -difficulties, especially the difficulty of finding a new master for the -‘Plough School,’ as the former master was going away. - - ‘I send you and dear Leila a few words of St. Paul’s which - seem to me so sweet and restful,--a pillow for weary heads. - “Beloved of God, called to be saints.” It is often difficult - to realise that we _are_ beloved of God, because conscience - says we do not deserve to be so. I have often to fight against - discouragements.’ - -On the 21st of January 1888 is a mention of the ‘Missionary Ladies’ -Conference,’ to be held in Amritsar late in February, with a hope that -all would be ‘as friendly and good-tempered’ as on the previous occasion, -five years earlier. Towards the close of February comes her report of -what had occurred:-- - - ‘_Feb. 24, 1888._--I found your letter awaiting me this - evening, when I returned from the four days’ Conference - of Lady Missionaries at Amritsar.... Conferences are rather - tiring. Sittings each day from 10 to 1, and 2 to 4, and always - something besides. We had about sixty ladies, of various - Denominations and Societies and Nationalities too, English, - German, American, Indian. On Thursday, after our Conference - work, we went to Church, and had such a solemn spiritual sermon - from our new Bishop.[121] It was the first time that I ever had - seen him. - - ‘In the evening there was rather a large meeting of Christians, - both white and brown, to meet the Bishop. I was introduced to - him; and we had--in the midst of the room--a quiet talk, which - I do not think that I shall ever forget. It was almost as if we - could at once meet heart to heart.... I think that he takes up - his high office more as a burden and a Cross than a dignity. I - felt greatly drawn towards him, and thank the Lord for sending - us a holy and humble man.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Feb. 28._--I must tell my loved Laura a little about the - Conference, and the characteristic way in which M., the real, - took me down a peg this evening. The first day nice Mrs. - Perkins, presided; on the second another nice lady; I was - particularly requested to sit in the chair on the third and the - first half of the fourth days. - - ‘Now on the second there had been rather a hot discussion. - There had been a show of hands; but numbers were so closely - divided that we had to go by ballot. Even then there was only - a majority of _one_; and some of the members were absent, and - some imperfectly informed. In short, when Char succeeded to - office, the question was brought up again by a strong lady on - the one side,--and then a paper was read by a strong lady on - the other,--and I proposed that votes should be taken _again_, - which resulted in a majority of four, I being one of the four. - A lady of the minority called out, “It does not matter what - is voted; we will all do just the same as before,”--which was - more true than polite. Then there was another lady, who got up - time after time, to make impracticable propositions; and she - got snubbed and sat down and cried.... Oh dear, it does not do to - be so thin-skinned! So you see, dear, all did not go on quite - smoothly while I sat in the chair, with the bonnet on my head - which you wore at dear Fred’s wedding! - - ‘This evening ... Herbert asked M. about the Conference. “I - thought the first day nice, when Mrs. Perkins presided,” said - she. I laughed a little again, and, I think, complimented her - on her sincerity.... It was clear that M. did not admire my way - of presiding. Now, I had been voted thanks at the meeting; but - dear M.’s honesty made me feel more than I had done before that - I had _not_ been very efficient. It is a good thing to know the - truth. - - ‘Is not this a funny little glimpse of life?... I doubt myself - that there is much use in Conferences, except that it is nice - that some dear workers should meet and know each other. We had - many very choice ones.’ - -More than a year later Miss Tucker referred again to this Conference, -when writing to Mrs. Hamilton upon the subject of whether or not secular -teaching in schools should be undertaken by Missionary ladies:-- - - ‘I cannot explain to you all the difficulties that surround the - question. We had a kind of wordy battle on the matter at the - Ladies’ Conference; and it was no good! When a lady proposed - another Conference after another five years, I suggested - after _ten_, but no one seconded poor Char! I am not calm and - phlegmatic enough for these discussions, and, I am afraid, do - not always see both sides of a question. I more and more now - mistrust my own judgment, and sometimes feel rather disgusted - with--myself!’ - -There are thousands of people who lack the power of looking on both sides -of a question; but among them all few are humble enough to acknowledge -the fact!--still more, to distrust their own judgment. - -When the Conference was over, Miss Tucker remarked to one of her -companions, ‘I proposed ten years, because I thought that then I should -not be here.’ She was ‘here’ five years later, but was within a few -months of her call Home. - - ‘_March 17, 1888._--I will tell you of a curious surprise I - had a few days ago. I was in my duli in one of the streets - of Batala, when I met one of my most highly respected Native - friends, the dear old Pandit, now the Rev. K. S.... A crowded - street is not the place for a talk. The Pandit asked me to go - to his village, O----, and had evidently some particular reason - for his request. As the next day was one of my village days, I - promised to go then.... If I thought much about the cause of a - visit being desired, I guessed that it either concerned some - Mission work, or the health of the good Bibi. But I was utterly - wide of the mark, and so I think will my Laura and Leila be, if - they take to guessing. - - ‘The dear couple had set their hearts on presenting me with a - beautiful, richly embroidered white Cashmere shawl, which the - Bibi, I know not how long ago, had bought ... from some one in - distress. In vain I expostulated, in vain said that the lovely - shawl was fit for the Queen, and that it was not suitable for - me to wear anything so handsome; that it might be sold for the - Mission. Both the smiling husband and wife were determined to - have it round my shoulders; and I _had_ to go away wearing it, - though I took it off in the duli, and took care of it, as if - it had been a child. Now, the Pandit and his wife want nothing - from me; this was no case of giving in hopes of receiving. The - whole thing took me by surprise.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_April 21._--We are soon to go--all in the heat--to share a 3 - P.M. dinner at the Corfields, and meet the Bishop, Mr. Clark, - and dear Herbert,--such a galaxy of good men, that we won’t - mind the heat, especially as my plump wadded umbrella is a real - protection. - - ‘I am reading--slowly--like a child enjoying a cake, that - delightful _Life of Bishop Gobat_. I mean to buy a copy for - myself; it would be so good for lending or extracting from. It - is such a humbling book too. I feel like a barn-door chicken - looking up at an eagle, and chirping, “I’m a bird too!” A - pretty difference between them! Now to put on _your_ sun-hat, - and be off.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_April 26._--You are quite right if you think your unnamed - convert’s idea of his baptism killing his mother a false one. - It seems the _regular trick_ here to draw back converts from - Christ by telling them of a mother’s illness. We feel in such - cases the force of our Lord’s words, “Let the dead bury their - dead!” It seems hard at first; but experience shows us how - needful is the caution.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_May 1._--Neither has April gone out smiling, nor did “May - come laughing o’er the plain.” The one has gone out, the other - came in,--in such a passion. It was so dark yesterday that I - was reminded of a London fog. Minnie required a lamp to read - by; a lamp, at 4¼ P.M. on a summer-day, shed its light on our - dinner-table. This is my day for villages when I have extra - kahars. I had ordered them not to come, should the day be as - bad as yesterday; but come they did. Evidently these hardy - fellows do not mind a dust-storm. They rather seem to enjoy it, - ... and laughed merrily enough as we went along.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_June 1, 1888._--I have to thank my sweet Laura for helping - to provide me with a nice tussore dress for my visit to - Murree. I cannot wear white there as I do in Batala, where - it does not look odd, as almost every man, woman, and child - appears in white. There is nothing like it for such hot - weather. But in Murree, where there are many European ladies, I - must dress more suitably, and also be prepared for any kind of - weather, heat, cold, and torrents of rain. For my cold-weather - apparel I have the very elegant grey dress, which dear W. and - M. gave me a few years ago. When the weather is warmer my new - tussore will be just the thing. I do not like writing so much - about dress; but I wished to thank you for your kindness.... - - ‘Excuse a short letter, love. I have so much writing in the way - of thanking for gifts to the Mission. Friends are so very kind. - I have asked a kind Station-lady, Mrs. G., whether she will - help me to sell at Murree beautiful things sent from England - for the Mission. I am a bad saleswoman myself. I sometimes feel - inclined to tell people _not_ to buy what they do not require.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_June 19, 1888._--I was so much interested to-day by our young - Goorkha J.’s account of his own conversion and adventures, that - I will try to write out the gist of it for you and dear Leila.... - - ‘Born of a Brahmin family in Nepaul, our Goorkha thought of - himself as a kind of god. He would motion to beings of lower - dignity to sit at a little distance from him; he was not to be - polluted by their touch. The child, however, attended a Mission - School at D----, and came a good deal under the influence of - a Christian Convert, a Pandit (learned man). At the age of - about twelve the boy resolved to leave father, mother, all, for - Christ. He was too young to be baptized without his parents’ - permission, and was advised to go a long way off. To be able to - do so, the boy sold his valuable gold earrings and bracelets, - and, having thus a good stock of rupees, he made his start, not - by any direct route, but through wild, uninhabited jungle. - - ‘He was accompanied and helped by an older Hindu, a sad rogue, - who had his own object, it appears, in assisting the flight of - the wealthy young Brahmin. The country was rocky and infested - by wild beasts. For two nights the fugitives slept in the - trees, for protection against leopards, bears, and tigers. But - this extreme discomfort could not be endured a third night; so - they slept on the ground, after lighting fires to prevent any - attack from fierce animals roaming about. The boy awoke,--I am - not sure whether it was on that or a succeeding morning,--to - find that the false Hindu had decamped with his money, clothes, - etc. Happily, the boy-convert had secreted on his own person - fifteen or twenty rupees; and with these, in the torn dirty - clothes left to him still, the Brahmin went on, and found his - way to where some Hindus dwelt. These were kind, but tried - to dissuade him from changing his religion. The Goorkha was, - however, evidently a boy of strong character. He made his way - to a train, the first which he had ever entered, and reached - Calcutta at last. - - ‘Here he wandered from place to place, to find a school. - Providence at last put the boy under the kind, almost paternal, - care of the Rev. ---- B., who nursed him through illness, - and fed him himself. The Brahmin at first chose only to - drink milk; evidently he still clung to caste. However, his - prejudices wore away. Mr. B. took the lad on an itinerating - tour, and afterwards placed him at school, first at C----, - afterwards at R----. At R---- our boy, after receiving - more religious instruction,--for he says that he knew very - little,--was baptized by the name of J. After a while he was - sent to Batala.... I hope that after a while he will study at - a Theological College, and become a Catechist and Missionary - to his own people. J. has written two or three times to his - parents, but his letters have been returned.... - - ‘I am writing very early this week, as I propose starting for - Murree to-morrow.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘MURREE, _July 11_.--On Friday week I propose beginning my - homeward flight to Batala. It will be a different sort of life - at the Gurub-i-Aftab. Here there are morning callers, and - afternoon visitors, and luncheons, and tea-parties, and many - a box-wala[122] or kapra-wala brings his wares, to tempt us, - spreading out a variety of pretty things.... One of my pleasures - is to see the lovely fair blue-eyed children going about with - their ayahs. I am so much accustomed to see brown babies, that - some of the English ones look to me almost like cherubs. The - church-going is a great gratification; it is so nice to have - prayers and sermon in English, and I greatly enjoy the hymns.... - I enjoy my quiet morning walks in the lovely wooded paths on - the hills. This house is very conveniently situated near the - church; so one does not require much _mounting_, which is - tiring. I do not attempt long walks, but stroll about. My dear - Rowland and Helen have had much anxiety about their little - Robin.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘BATALA, _Aug. 9, 1888_.--As our Dr. Miss Sahiba, Minnie, is - away, I have now and then to try my ‘prentice hand a little, - but in a very humble, cautious way. I have nothing to do with - making pills, but have invested in big bottles of castor-oil - and turpentine. I have quinine, of course, and ammonia in case - of bites or stings. I don’t revel in physic, like Minnie; and - dimness of sight and want of steadiness of hand do not serve - to make me more fit to add Doctor to my name. What a blessing - it is that some people actually _like_ doctoring! I remember - saying to my ... kind-hearted ----, now a doctor, that operations - must be trying. “I _like_ them,” was his simple, truthful - reply. Well--Buckland liked playing with snails and snakes. _De - gustibus non disputandum!_’ - -On September the 10th, speaking of a planned trip to Lahore, to see her -nephew and niece, she continues:-- - - ‘I propose after parting with the dear ones to sleep at the - Mission House at Amritsar, and to-morrow go to the hospital, - to see my dear ayah, Hannah, whom we sent there, not knowing - that--as we fear--a deadly illness is on her. Dear, gentle, - loving Hannah! she has served me faithfully for about seven - years; and in all that time I cannot remember her doing _one_ - wrong thing, or saying _one_ wrong word. A humble, gentle - Christian, good wife, good mother,--ah! she is a sad loss to - her family of seven, ... and also to your loving Char.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Nov. 1. 1888._--The first of November, darling Laura, and - I am preparing for cold weather. I have taken my chhota - janwar[123] (little animal, _alias_ dear Fred’s splendid - foot-muff) out of its bag, to keep my feet warm in the morning, - before my bath is ready. Eiderdown petticoat, etc., etc. O - luxurious Char! It was a pleasure to me to-day to pay F., - my new ayah, her first month’s wages; there was a pleasant, - half-grateful look in her eyes.... I _like_ paying wages. - - ‘My last dear ayah is not forgotten. I have given orders for - a modest little monument of brick and mortar, to mark where - Hannah sleeps. We have no stones here. I went to the cemetery - with the mason, ... to give directions, and was struck by finding - a tiny but touching memorial already on the spot. A very little - wooden Cross, covered with paper, to facilitate the writing of - an inscription. There was the date, of course in Urdu, and “Not - dead, but sleepeth”; and “The Lord gave; the Lord hath taken - away; blessed be the Name of the Lord.” This tribute of love - had been placed over his dear Mother’s grave by J., the eldest - son here, a lad of about fourteen. I mean to keep to his - inscription, when the humble monument is placed over Hannah’s - dust. Dear woman! she was of the meek and quiet spirits who are - precious to the Lord.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Nov. 23._--The last mail brought me letters both from my - loved Laura and dear Leila; to both many thanks. My sunstroke - was nothing to tell you about; for though I was sickening two - days, the illness only lasted about six hours, and left, thank - God, no dregs behind. I awoke quite serene from the state which - had so alarmed my good friends, was able that very day to hold - a little Bible-meeting, and to go to my city-work next day.’ - -About this time Mrs. Herbert Weitbrecht, who was then in England, wrote -to Mrs. Hamilton, upon the question of Miss Tucker being advised to go -home. As will be seen from the following little extract, her view was -strongly adverse to this step. - - ‘For one thing, the cold, in which Mrs. ---- revels, would try - the Auntie very severely. But there is more than this. You - know she used to speak very freely to me; and I have a strong - impression that she did not let you and her other friends at - home know how much she suffered from the parting, how great a - wrench it was to her. She used to say that she ... dreaded above - everything the thought of having to go through such partings - again.’ - -Probably no persuasions would have induced Miss Tucker to return. She -had steadily made up her mind that in India she would live and die. -Unless, indeed, she should be called elsewhere! At this very time she was -deeply interested in the Andaman Islands, over which her nephew, Major -Louis Tucker, had been appointed Chief Commissioner. On learning that a -Mission among the Convicts was sorely needed there, she is said to have -offered herself for the purpose,--if she could do good by going. Probably -she thought of it as merely a temporary thing; as inaugurating, not as -carrying on permanently, the work. But at her age, and in her feeble -health, the very suggestion shows marvellous courage and energy. - -The next letter is about a difficult case in England: a young Indian, -with whom Mrs. Hamilton was acquainted:-- - - ‘_Dec. 1._--I have not answered your letter about poor Q. in - haste. I received it the day before yesterday. Perhaps you - will not like my thoughts; but you had better know them, sweet - sister.... - - ‘It is a characteristic of the Native character to have little - sense of sin. A conscience seems a thing to be created. Q. does - not seem to see how grievously he has sinned, _is_ sinning. - He is clearly denying the Lord Who bought him; and that for - worldly gain. Darling Laura, have you _quite_ realised the - greatness of the sin? To my view it was a mistake to ask Q. to - dinner. “With such an one, no, not so much as to eat.” Until Q. - deeply repents, he is not fit to sit at your table.... - - ‘You may cite the Parable of the Prodigal Son. That is exactly - what I would cite for _my_ view of the subject. Poor Q., if a - son, is the Prodigal Son, beginning to be in want, and hiring - himself out,--feeding swine. If, when he was longing for even - husks, he had been coaxed and asked out to dinner, would he - ever have “come to himself,” would he ever have cried, “I will - arise, and go to my Father?” Was it _easy_ for him to go, in - a far country, as he was? Was _he_ not ready to sacrifice his - pride, and go amongst his Father’s servants as a beggar? If - Q. would have the Prodigal’s reception, he must do what the - Prodigal did. - - ‘Perhaps my Laura will remind me of St. Paul’s injunction to - the Corinthians to take back and “comfort” a gross sinner. - But, remember, that man had first had some mysterious terrible - punishment,--“delivered over to Satan for the destruction of - the flesh,”--and he was so deeply penitent, that there was - danger of his being “swallowed up with overmuch sorrow.” When - Q. repents _like that_, let us all receive him and comfort him.’ - -Some may count this letter stern, viewed in the light of modern lax and -easy notions. But Charlotte Tucker knew what she was about. She was -living, at Batala, in the First Century of Christianity. Things would -often be very differently viewed by us in England, if we could see them -from the standpoint of the First instead of the Nineteenth Century. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -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] - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -A.D. 1890-1891 - -IN OLD AGE - - -Letters at this late period of Miss Tucker’s life become so abundant, -from numerous quarters, that the main difficulty is in selection, the -main cause of regret is that so few can be used. The history of 1891 and -1892 may be told chiefly by Miss Tucker’s details of what went on. Miss -Dixie remained her constant companion in the little Mission bungalow all -these years,--except when absent for her summer holiday, or on furlough. -Others came and went, remaining a longer or a shorter time in Batala. Dr. -Weitbrecht had settled down as C.M.S. Missionary in the place; and Mr. -Bateman, stationed at Narowal, came and went on itinerating expeditions. - -Charlotte Tucker still lived her life of rigid simplicity; though -perhaps certain indulgences, immaterial when she was younger and in more -vigorous health, had now become a positive necessity. Long Indian toil, -as well as sharp illnesses, had told upon her; and at seventy she had -every appearance of being ninety. Yet, through weakness, weariness, and -languor, she struggled on, and kept up her steady round of work. - -The little ‘Sunset’ house, in which she lived, consisted mainly of the -following: bath-room, size 8 feet by 8; dressing-room, size 13 feet by -8; the one large principal room, size 24 feet by 13, divided by a screen -into bedroom and sitting-room; and the verandahs. Miss Tucker’s chief -room has been described to me by one who spent months at Batala, as, at -this date,--‘Rather bare and shabby, and used to have rather an untidy -look.... As you went in from the verandah in front, the fireplace was on -your left, and a sofa, with a screen behind it, screening off the bed, -on your right. In front of you was the little table, where she used -to write. I cannot remember all of the furniture; there was not very -much,--I think some shelves on each side of the fireplace.’ - -This does not sound too luxurious. No doubt Miss Tucker might, without -expense, have made her rooms much prettier, but for her passion for -giving away. She seldom kept for herself more than was imperatively -needed. While on this subject, it may be worth remarking, as regards the -food of the Missionary ladies in Batala, that the cost of it has been -found to amount, on an average, to about eight annas a day,--an anna -being worth rather less than a penny. The said estimate applies to an -ordinary time, including a certain amount of entertaining of visitors. -Probably the cost would be much the same in other parts of the Panjab, -unless it were slightly more in large Stations. - -A few scattered sentences from the Journal may precede the letters of -1891:-- - - ‘_April 30, 1889._--Villages.... Sikh bibi very nice. I said, “I - am very weak. If you heard that I died, what would you say?” - Reply: “Gone to Jesus! Gone to Heaven!” After a while I asked, - “Were I to hear of your death, what should I say?” A little - delay; then a bibi observed on the _kirpa_, mercy, of Jesus, - and thought that He might take them too.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Aug. 31._--“Faint, yet pursuing,” must be my motto. The - two boys from ----, who came to Anarkalli, as if resolved to - embrace Christianity, but, being without root, left us again, - seem to have done much harm. The Muhammadans more bitter than - before. Twice this week I--an aged servant of Christ--have been - turned away from the Zenanas, to which I went in gentleness - and kindness. To-day I was rejected at a fourth.... It is a - strain upon the threefold cord of Faith, Hope, and Love, this - deliberate choosing of darkness instead of light, Barabbas - instead of Christ. We need the prayers of God’s people, and to - remember the promise, “In due season ye shall reap if ye faint - not.”’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Sept. 4._-- ... Two places very nice. B. is determined to be a - Christian, and teach his wife. Wants Urdu Gospel.... - - ‘_Sept. 5._-- ... Felt ill; half-blind; yet generally well-heard.... - - ‘_Sept. 6._-- ... Ophthalmia, but managed to go to Q. five - places.... - - ‘_Dec. 12, 1889._--D.G. Hindus cross. As I mounted dark stair, - heard “Buha band.”[127] However, I ventured up, smiling, and - said,--“When you come to the Dispensary, the door is not - shut.” There were four women; the two elder cross, not the - younger. At first no seat was offered me; then some one said, - “Buddhi,”[128] on which a small mat was brought, and the old - woman meekly sat down. I tried to make my visit pleasant, - showed my Golden Tree, and sang. It was a kind of breaking of - ice. I took care not to stay very long. When I had risen, the - two younger salaamed. I turned, smiling, to one cross old lady, - and coaxed her to return my salaam. After a little while she - did so; but I wanted to conquer the toughest also. The younger - women listened, much amused, to my polite expostulations on - her rudeness. At last the old hand went up to the brow, and I - departed, contented. The ice was broken. One can go again.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Dec. 25, Christmas, 1889._--Nice. D., B., and children, made - catechumens.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Dec. 27._--The best day, I think, that I have ever had - in Zenanas.... N. B., A very nice visit. Two fine young men, - and at least seven women of various ages, appeared pleased, - interested, and without any bigotry. So much inclined towards - Christianity did one man in particular seem, that I spoke of - the advantage of a united family accepting the Truth, and - expressed a hope that all would come out. “Sat!”[129] echoed - the Hindu heartily, throwing up one of his hands, as though to - give force to the word.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_June 29, 1890._--I have, three times in as many weeks, been - able freely to show a Bible picture in Islami schools, and - speak of Christ. To-day, as I walked in the streets, twice - tradesmen in their little shops wished to see my picture. I - stopped, and others gathered round, whilst I explained.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Sept. 2, 1890...._ K., she sad. Seems to regret death of her - poor young S., whom she kept such a prisoner, and of whom I - thought, “If any one in that quarter be a secret believer, it - is she!” I could seldom get into the house. The sweet S. was - quite a prisoner. I have even stood before the window, and - sung in the open lane, hoping that S. would hear the sound of - my voice, like imprisoned Richard. I hear that S. gave birth - to a girl, “a very beautiful tiny child,” who only lived for a - month, and the young mother soon followed. I have strong hopes - that both are with the Lord Jesus.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Feb. 9, 1891._-- ... I have suffered greatly from chilliness - this cold weather. Perhaps in no winter during my whole life - more. Old age. Ague.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_March 25, 1891._--Song. W. B. Buckle; but my best hearer - was R. L., very interesting schoolboy. He met me at my - first Zenana, and followed me to all the others. He was so - nice,--even singing bhajans--that I thought at first that - he must have learned at the Plough. With interest, amid - interruptions from women, listened to story of the three Jews - in the furnace, and told it afterwards in another Zenana. He - was a help to me, explaining the Buckle, etc., very nicely. - When the subject was Christ’s Ascension, the boy said that He - had gone up to God Almighty. I intend to write out the song - for the dear fellow.... His heart seemed so impressionable, and - his face brightened at the thought of the Crown to be given to - “those who believe in Jesus.” “I want to be a Christian,” he - said in English. Lord, bless him. Give him the Crown.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_April 13, 1891...._ R. E. took me into her arms; felt so slim - encircled by them. I noticed a quantity of jewels on her arms. - She popped her bare feet on my knee,--I was seated on the - ground,--to show me the jewels on them. Her amount of clothing - was by no means proportionate. Presently down went her forehead - on my lap. I silently hoped that there was not much oil on her - hair.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_May 14._--Hindus very nice. My A. B., cheerful-looking C. D., - another whom I do not know so well, E. F. These three all hope - to meet me in Heaven. When I said to C. D., “But how can we go? - We are sinners!”--her simple reply was, “Jesus Christ, Guide.” - I have hopes of these three.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_May 15._--F. G., nice intelligent man. I was surprised at a - _little_ boy, H. I., being able to read. Gave him hymn-book. - Was much followed about by boys....’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_May 25, 1891...._ Felt the weight of years much. Work a - struggle! Lord, help me!...’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_June 4...._ L. very nice. When I said that she was patient, - poor dying hand pointed upwards. Peace on face. Many listened....’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_June 22...._ I am to start to-day for Dalhousie. Feel old and - rather worn out. If I live to 1892 must not stay down[130] so - long....’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Aug 14, 1891...._ I sat outside with Bibis, in front of ----‘s - house. The door half open, behind it pretty smiling young Bibi, - who again and again silently made signs to me to come in. Did - so, and sat beside her. She did not utter one word, but by - her looks tried to show me that she received the Word, and - believed. She only said “Salaam,” when I left. I read to her of - Christ being the Good Shepherd, His own words.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Dec. 24._--J. ill; sweet. Told me that, sitting up in bed, - she saw beings come in, clothed in white shining raiment. Felt - frightened. Asked why they did not speak. Afterwards fell - asleep, and dreamed of being taken to a beautiful place. She - is, we think, a true believer, confesses herself sinful, and - looks to Christ for salvation. Asked her if she would like - baptism. “Yes.” “Would your husband allow it?” “No.”’ - -These are specimens of the longer entries. The majority are exceedingly -brief, consisting for the most part of names, initials, and single words. -Letters to Mrs. Hamilton in the early part of 1891 are unusually few: -not that the usual number were not written, but few have been kept. In -the spring of that year there was some discussion as to the name of ‘The -Plough School,’--her own favourite name for the School, which meant much -to her. One cannot but regret that any stir should have been made about -the matter, when she had been the ‘mother’ of the school. The criticism -having been put forward, however needlessly, she wrote to Mr. Baring:-- - - ‘By-the-by, the name “Plough” is objected to, as sounding - like a public-house.... How could we choose a name that would - signify entire dependence on God?... The Plough appears to be - flourishing. Boys come to it even from what we call the large - Government School. Numbers have arisen to about 113. To-day I - had no fewer than seven rather superior boys from the Plough. - They come for religious conversation and Bible pictures.’ - -On the 17th of June 1891 she wrote to Mrs. Gardiner about the recent -death of that remarkable man, Bishop French,--no longer holding the -position of a Bishop, but working as a simple Missionary. - - ‘MY DEAR MRS. GARDINER,--Though June in the plains is not the - most favourable month for letter-writing, especially to a - Septuagenarian, I will not let your kind note remain longer - unanswered. - - ‘Yes, indeed, our late loved Bishop French was a saint, one - whose memory is sweet, whose example is lofty. You will have - seen the article in the _Panjab Mission News_. I think that it - was written by Rowland Bateman, who, so like himself, feels not - having rushed off in all the heat, to have been at the side of - his venerated Friend, left alone in a land of strangers. But - the dear Saint was not alone! What a glorious ending to his - beautiful course! He reminds one, when dying in the grapple - with Muhammadanism in the very home of its birth, of the Swiss - hero, who broke the phalanx of the enemy by clasping the spears - of the foremost in his arms, and so receiving them into his - breast. - - “‘Make way for liberty,’ he cried; - ‘Make way for liberty!’--and died.” - - ‘Of course there will be a Memoir of Bishop French,--but where - is the Boswell competent to write it? Who could give all the - delicate touches, needed for a perfect portrait of one with so - many idiosyncrasies? - - ‘How well I remember the dear Bishop coming all the way from - Lahore,--when there was no railway,--to visit me, when I - was supposed to be dying.[131] He sat by my bedside, gently - talking. I do not remember that I said anything to him. I was - looking up at his face, and thinking what a lovely medallion - might be made of it in wax! It was an earthly thought; but when - you recall the delicate features, pure complexion, and saintly - look, of that countenance, you will hardly wonder at the sick - woman’s reflection. - - ‘My letters, or rather letter, from England came in when I was - engaged in writing, and you will not wonder at the blot on the - last page.... I feel now disinclined to write at all. My beloved - sister, Mrs. Hamilton, has been seriously ill; but, thank God, - to-day’s account of her is good.--Yours affectionately, - - C. M. TUCKER. - -TO MISS MINNIE DIXIE. - - ‘(_From the Hills_) _July 4, 1891_. - - ‘I am not timid about snakes; but H. has seen four lately, and - it is only common-sense to look under one’s bed, as the heat - compels open windows and doors. I have only fish-insects and - tarantulas at present, but am promised plenty of scorpions, - centipedes, and leeches, in the rains. You know I have not your - talent for squashing reptiles; and if I called out for help in - the unpleasant business, I doubt whether any one would hear me. - I rather think that this will be my last visit to the Hills, - and that Amritsar will be my Sanatarium in future.’ - -The two next letters to Miss Dixie are about the outbreak of smallpox -in Batala. She was ‘quite ready to nurse a smallpox patient, should -the malady spread.’ And again,--’ Why should I delay my return? As a -Missionary, I am liable any day to meet children with smallpox full out. -I hope to be with you in about a fortnight.’ - -TO MISS LANGLEY. - - ‘BATALA, _July 29, 1891_. - - ‘It is very kind of you to ask what kind of things would be - most useful here. For _sale_, pretty little articles of dress - for English children, from one day old to five years, are - most readily disposed of. We are afraid of woollen articles, - as they are so difficult to keep. White ants are a real - puzzle at Batala.... Happily cotton or silk they attack much - less. Gentlemen’s neckties, of a fashionable shape, would - be likely to sell well. Station-people in India think _at - least_ as much about fashion as Londoners do. A few pretty - cosies and toilet or tea-table covers would be nice, and some - elegant dolls. These would suit for sales. For presents in - schools--cheap dolls, gay and rather gaudy; bags, with cotton - and tape; kurtas, common gay print, that will wash. I dare say - that Miss Cockle could supply a pattern. The kurtas need to - be made of Oriental shape, or they would not be worn by the - school-children.’ - -An attack of ophthalmia in her eyes, which must have caused much -suffering, is made light of in her letters; and in the same passing -manner she alludes to a fall, whereby her face was turned black and blue. -The main point in connection with this accident seemed to her to be the -kindness and sympathy shown by Batala people, when she went to visit -them, and the fact that nobody smiled at her discoloured and swollen -features. - -TO MISS LEILA HAMILTON. - - ‘_Sept. 12, 1891._ - - ‘You will see a half-sheet; it belonged to a whole one, but - the first half, alas! I have had to tear up; for it gave such - a bright account of one, who, _only to-day_, I have found out - has been deceiving us for many months!... Let us drop the painful - subject. - - ‘I had a visit early this morning from a _real_ servant of - God, dear old K. S.! One thinks of him rather as the learned - and pious Pandit, than as the ordained Pastor; he leads such a - wandering life. His faithful heart was heavy to-day, from the - inconsistencies of professed Native Christians. He thought them - better out of the Fold than in it;--so do I, for many are not - _sheep_ at all! - - ‘I have not yet heard whether dear Mr. Bateman has recovered. - I have written to him to-day. My letter will not cheer him, - but he must know facts. Blindness is no benefit. We want - _light_ and _air_. Do you know, dear, that we felt our church - dreadfully close,--yes, for years and years. The cause was - obvious to us ladies. The doors and _lower_ windows were often - opened; the _upper_ windows _never_! It was troublesome to get - at such high ones; so year after year the bad air, which came - from breath, ascended, and had no vent. Last Sunday, after my - earnest protest, the windows were opened, and we breathed pure - air! - - ‘We are very quiet now; but in two or three weeks will begin - the rush _from_ the Hills; the season for work beginning, - and the season for visiting too.... It is possible that in the - beginning of October I may go for a week or so to Futteyghur - with sweet Daisy Key, to teach the Christian peasants in that - out-of-the-way spot. I think that the quietness, with one - choice companion, would suit me better than the bustle of many - arrivals at Batala. About the 1st of November I am engaged to - go for a short visit to dear Louis and Lettie at Rawal Pindi.... - The journey is not a very fatiguing one, as I can go all - the way by train. Rawal Pindi is a city at the foot of the - Himalayas; there is no mounting up.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Sept. 16, 1891._--My own sweet Sister, I do confess with - regret that I wrote too hastily about ----, as dear M. C. does - not think him bad, and hopes that he may be useful in time. - I was vexed and impatient at my Laura being so worried, year - after year.... But I was wrong, dear, I frankly own it! I wonder - when I shall be given grace to be really loving, gentle, and - patient! - - ‘Poor dear Daisy and I have been sadly tried lately by the - wickedness of those in our own compound. We both feel that it - will be a relief to get away for a while to Futteyghur, which - we shall probably do in the beginning of October.... But oh, - let me not be so ungrateful to the Lord, or so unjust to dear - excellent Native Christian friends, as to say in my haste, “All - men are liars!” Poor Daisy thinks Batala the most wicked place - that she has ever been in; and so do I? But precious jewels - come _to_ Batala, though very few _out_ of it.... - - ‘But I must not write only of trials, love. If you could have - dropped in upon us yesterday evening, you would have thought us - a very happy party. See Char, in one part of the room, playing - at chess with our good Pastor, Nobin Chanda;[132] ... dear Babu - Singha, the excellent and wise, a special comfort to me, - looking on in his quiet benevolent way. At the other side see - sweet Daisy, animated and bright, playing at our famous Batala - game with a choice set of Natives; ... and last, not least, - dear Rosie Singha, our honorary and very steady worker in the - Dispensary. I feel giving these kinds of parties a real duty; - and they give, at little cost, so much innocent enjoyment. It - is well for the Missionaries too to have pauses, in a struggle - with so much that is repulsive and saddening.... I think that - Rowland is not now actually ill, as he writes about being in - the midst of a sermon. I hope that he will be able to pay - Batala a flying visit before long.... He has so many Missionary - troubles, and we cannot help adding to them. But-- - - ‘“Soon and for ever, we’ll see as we’re seen, - And learn the deep meaning of things that have been!”’ - - ‘_Sept. 27, 1891._--I will steal a bit from the morning to - write a little to you. We are living rather in a bustle at - present; the tide of Missionaries running down from the Hills, - rather sweeping over Batala. Dear Rowland is here.... Miss Boyd - is here. She is to be married, please God, next week.... Her - visit has been a real help to me, at a time of much Missionary - difficulty.... Her Betrothed has been to Muscat, to gather - information about the last days of dear Bishop French.... Miss - ---- returned here on Saturday; Miss Dixie and the Corfields - start for Batala to-day. One lady comes here from Amritsar - to-day; we are to start her from hence at 4 A.M. to-morrow, - Tuesday.... I shall be very glad to be quietly off, ... out of a - kind of whirlpool. We will have eight at dinner to-day; quite - as much as our table will hold.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘FUTTEYGHUR, _Oct. 11_.--I watch with much interest the - Christian father, R. M., when at our long Services his little - four-years old Z. is beside him. It is lovely to see the - peaceful confiding loving clinging trust of the little child, - as she cuddles to her strong father, and his gentle tenderness - to the wee girl.... It makes me think of our Heavenly Father and - us, His weak little ones. But an elder girl of R. M. was bitten - by a snake; and then the tender father showed “the hardness of - love.” He resolutely cut out the poisoned part with a penknife. - The poor child screamed terribly, but still the parent cut on. - I dare say that his own heart felt gashed. The child was saved. - O when our Heavenly Father thus wounds to save, may we have - grace to lie still!’ - -One would much like to know the rest of this story, and how the poor -father managed to keep his little girl from bleeding to death. His -courage must indeed have been great. - -Later in the same letter, when again on the never-failing topic of -troubles and disappointments in the work, Miss Tucker says,--‘O what need -we Missionaries have of wisdom! We are so liable to make mistakes.’ - -TO ---- ---- - - ‘_Oct. 24, 1891._ - - ‘I was in Sikh villages this morning. The Sikhs are more - friendly than the Muhammadans. I have often told them that if - their respectable Guru Nanak were here on Earth now, he would - probably become a Christian. I said that I had heard that there - was something about our Lord in the Granth. The Sikh with whom - I was conversing at once gave me the “Slok,” and translated its - difficult antique Panjabi. This is the Slok in English; “That - Cutter of demons’ heads, the world’s revered Jesus!” The Sikh - said that “Isa” (Jesus) was thought by them to be “Ishur,--God - Almighty.” I replied that we too called Jesus, God!’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_Oct. 30._--Many many thanks, mine own sweet Sister, for - yours of the 8th, and all your loving thought for Char.’s - comfort. You would keep the bird in a golden cage, lined with - soft fur! But Char. is a bit of a wild bird, and likes to fly - about freely. The fur will be delicious on cold mornings and - evenings; but to wear it all day, even in December, would feel - exhaustingly warm. One needs to adapt oneself perpetually to - the changes of temperature in December and January; this needs - a little Indian experience and common-sense. The want of these - two things is one cause of Indian break-downs. Inexperienced - Missionaries think it safe to do in India what they have done - in old England! If you consider, love, that I have kept my - health, with some few interruptions, for almost sixteen years - in India, you may allow that I am a fair manager of it. I am - thought rather a wonder. - - ‘As for having “a really nice capable maid to wait upon” me;--O - dear!--_dear_--DEAR!! I might fill a whole line with such - exclamations, to express my almost _horror_ at such a proposal! - Europeans, except good working Missionaries, who can _help_, - are dreadful anxieties and troubles. An Englishwoman in service - is always a _possible_ invalid, and a _probable_ grumbler. I - never in my life could stand a person running after me and - watching me. I have an ayah to attend to my room,--and could - have plenty of darzies to mend my clothes, but I prefer doing a - little stitching myself. I am not always tumbling down like a - ninepin,--but I would _prefer_ tumbling once or twice a month - to having any one always watching me. Dear Minnie insists on - handing me to my room at night. You must remember that I am the - adopted Aunt of a Doctor Miss Sahiba. - - ‘This is rather a frisky note, darling. When I am a _real_ - invalid, I am said to be a good one; but I am strongly averse - to becoming one when I am in fair health.... I know how dear - Laura and Leila would constantly be putting soft fetters of - love round me; but they would find me an obstreperous bird. I - should break the fetters by sudden astonishing efforts,--as I - fled from the Doctor lady who came from Amritsar. I knew that - the Weitbrechts wanted her to see me. After breakfast she went - with Dr. W. into his study, to look at something. I saw my - opportunity, hurried down the long stair, and into my duli;-- - - ‘“They’re gone! she’s gone,--over, etc.” - - I knew that I was safe, as Batala has twelve entrances; and no - one could tell which I had taken. It was rare fun, and seemed - to do me more good than physic could have done. So take no - anxious thought about me, love.’ - -The being ‘handed to her room at night’ was found to be a necessity in -her old age. After spending the evening in Sonnenschein with the younger -ladies,--generally either reading aloud, or playing games,--she had to -go out into the front verandah, and to pass along it till she reached -the door of her own little ‘Sunset’ dwelling. If alone, she was apt to -stumble, or to run against something, and the regular plan was adopted -of either Miss Dixie or one other of her nieces always accompanying the -older lady, on this small nightly pilgrimage. - -TO MISS LAURA VERONICA TUCKER. - - ‘_Nov. 18, 1891._ - - ‘Oh, dearest Laura Veronica, what a warm capital web you - have spread for her whom you call Fairy Frisket. Certainly I - look very unlike a _fairy_; and a very comfy rug is far more - suitable for me than gossamer wings or glittering wand! A bibi - expressed surprise to-day that a weak old woman could sing; but - I told her that I sing every day in my life. If I stopped for a - week, perhaps my throat might find out my age! I must not give - it a chance of so doing. The same with my feet; the dear kind - E----s were always offering me a drive, and I often took one - with L.; but--oh, my friends, Misses Feet, you had to do your - work too. No laziness tolerated; or you might presume to fancy - yourselves antiquated. Now I am back in harness again, have - been to the city to-day, and intend to visit a village-school - to-morrow, unless Daisy Key go instead. She is far better at - teaching than I am. But I am afraid that I have not yet thanked - my sweet niece for the capital rug. I do so now with a kind - kiss.... - - ‘Yesterday, in the railway carriage, I offered a wee book - by Spurgeon to a tall big man, connected with the railway - department. He asked me immediately if I were related to - ----, and gave his opinion that ---- was a real good man. - My frank companion expressed, however, a general dislike to - Missionaries. “Why do you not like us?” I asked mildly. He had - evidently not been fortunate in some that he had known,--their - names were not familiar to me. He disliked their preferring - working on Natives instead of their own countrymen, and - evidently thought them too comfortable! But what _can_ I - do, when my dear relatives send such charming gifts to your - attached old Auntie Char?’ - -TO MR. AND MRS. ST. GEORGE TUCKER. - - _‘Dec. 12, 1891._ - - ‘Your very handsome and very kind--only _too_ handsome--gift - reached me safely this morning; just the right time for the - arrival, as the air in the morning is very keen, and then fur - is a real comfort. Much has your fine jacket been admired,--so - “beautiful,” so “grand.” But it does not look unsuitable even - for Missionary use. Very many affectionate thanks for this - token of your affection. It quite strikes as well as gratifies - me, to see how little difference _sixteen_ years of absence - seems to make as regards the loving-kindness of my dear - relatives. They do not seem to forget the aged Missionary, or - weary of showing her tokens of love. - - ‘We are to have an interesting Ordination Service next Sunday. - F. M. and I. U., Converts from Muhammadanism, tried and true, - are to be appointed Deacons. We expect the Bishop on Thursday. - He will, we hope, lay the first stone of our Mission School - Building, so called,[133] on Saturday.... I have begged that the - building may be very plain,--dear Mr. Baring gave the money for - it.... It is a great matter for some religious instruction to be - given to more than 130 boys from Heathen and Muhammadan homes.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - _‘Dec. 21._ - - ‘We have been having a busy time.... On Sunday there was the - interesting Ordination. To-day the dear Bishop kindly laid the - first stone of Mr. Baring’s generous gift to Batala, a building - for the City School. A number of Muhammadans and Hindus were - present; but the service was most distinctly Christian. The - _Gloria Patri_ was repeated again and again; the precious - Name of Christ was not only on the stone, but in the prayers - and portion of the Bible read.... At the gathering I saw many - interesting persons, both English and Native.... The Bishop is - such a lovable man; gentle, bright, affectionate; showing not a - particle of pride. We do not call him “My lord,” but “Bishop.”’ - - * * * * * - - ‘(_Undated._)--Beloved Sister, this is the last Sunday of 1891; - may 1892 be rich in blessings to you and your loved ones of two - generations. “He leadeth me,--oh, blessed thought!” - - ‘It is good for me to be a while in this quiet place.[134] - Batala at Christmas time is too bustling. Merry festivities - are more delightful to the young than the old. I expected dear - Herbert and Mr. Channing to dine with us; and to my surprise we - sat down twelve. It was all right; we should use hospitality - without grudging, especially at Christmas time; but you know - that Char. has a sorrow at her heart. I retired from the merry - games, to prepare for the next day’s long journey. O my Laura, - ask for me a gentle sympathising spirit,-- - - ‘“To meet the glad with cheerful smiles, - And to wipe the weeping eyes.”’ - -Was the ‘sorrow’ here spoken of, the delicate health of ‘her Laura?’ If -the sister in India was ageing fast, the sister in England was failing -fast. Parted as they had been during sixteen long years, the loving -sympathy between them was as fresh and ardent as ever. A dread had long -oppressed Mrs. Hamilton that ‘her Char.’ would soon be called away. But -though the summons to the elder sister was indeed not far distant, that -to the younger sister was to arrive first. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -A.D. 1892 - -LIGHT AT EVENTIDE - - -The Evening of Miss Tucker’s life was passing fast away. Sixteen years -of her long Indian campaign were over. Only two years remained. But the -end of her Evening was to be Day, not Night. For nearly forty years she -had looked forward with joy to the great change; for more than twenty -she had longed with an impassioned craving for a sight, Face to face, of -that dear Lord and Master whom she loved. And though she did not know -it, the time was drawing very near. Could she have known it, the passing -troubles of these months would have seemed easy to bear, in the light of -coming glory. Barely two more years of toil and weariness,--and then--the -Home-going! - -One more heavy sorrow had to come first; one more sharp blow upon the -golden staff of her Will. Many a blow had fallen since she wrote her -little book, _The Giant-Killer_; many dear ones had been called away by -death. And now the summons was going forth for the dearest of all; the -sister-friend, who from very infancy had been one with herself. No shadow -had ever fallen on their love one for another. Before the close of 1892 -the shadow of death was to fall across it, leaving Charlotte Tucker more -lonely in heart than she had ever been before. But the shadow was to fall -for a very little while. Only a few months of separation; and then the -sisters would be together again. - - ‘“Stay thy hand!”’ Fides exclaimed, in the story by A. L. O. - E., as blow after blow fell on the golden staff. ‘“It can bear - no more!”’ - - ‘“Yet a little patience,” cried Experience, and struck it - again. Then the Will was restored to Fides,--straight, pure, - beautiful,--oh, how unlike that staff which had been so deadly - in the grasp of Pride! - - ‘As Fides stood gazing on the fair gift before him, once more, - and for the last time, the shining robe and star-wreath of - Conscience flashed on his sight. Never before had her smile - been so glad, so beaming with the radiance of Heaven. - - ‘“The work is done,--the fight is over!” she exclaimed. “Thou - art summoned to the Presence of thy King! A messenger is even - now waiting to conduct thee to the Home which thou so long hast - desired! Go, bearing with thee the offering of a conquered - Will, the acknowledgment that not even that should be thine - own, and the remembrance of foes bravely met and overcome, - through the might of Him Who armed thee for the fight.... Go - where all is gladness and rejoicing and peace,--where war and - danger shall be known no more!”‘[135] - -The work was nearly done; the fight was nearly over. But Charlotte Tucker -could not yet see the starry form, could not yet hear the gentle accents, -which soon would bid her to ‘rise and come away.’ Before many days of -1892 had passed, she was back again in Batala; deep in her usual round of -work and interests. - - ‘BATALA, _Jan. 10_.--Here am I at home again. I did so enjoy - and benefit by my visit to Narowal. It was not leaving work - but leaving cares. I worked every day, but the work was more - encouraging, and the feeling of repose so refreshing. If I live - to see another Christmas, I think that I shall run away to some - quiet spot, like Narowal, where the railway whistle is never - heard.... - - ‘When I was at peaceful Narowal, I happened to read in a - printed paper a kind of fable, which has been such a comfort - to myself, that I have put the idea into verse, and my Laura - shall have a copy.... As we Missionaries have a great many more - _little_ annoyances than great afflictions, I am inclined--for - myself--to change the last line but one into - - ‘“Change petty worries to plumage on wings.” - - ‘You know there are on a bird’s pinion, not only the long - feathers, but the little tiny ones; but how that fluffy downy - sort add to beauty and comfort!... - - “WEIGHTS AND WINGS. - - ‘“Sweet is a parable which I have read; - Birds at the first could not soar into air, - Bound to the earth; till their Maker, ’tis said, - Gave to each two little burdens to bear. - Proud ones refused the least burden to lift; - Others, submissive, obediently cried,-- - ‘All that He sends we will take as a gift; - Feeble are we, yet will strength be supplied.’ - - “Raising her burdens, each bird with surprise - Finds to her weak frame most closely it clings; - Soft, light and beautiful, radiant with dyes, - Lo! every _weight_ has expanded to _wings_! - Woe to the creatures that clung to the ground! - They could not flutter bright wings in the sky; - Ne’er could they rise above Earth’s narrow bound,-- - Whilst their companions were soaring on high. - - “Take we up burdens of sorrow or care, - Looking to Him Who the trial has given, - Grace will give courage and patience to bear, - Make burdens wings to uplift us to Heaven. - When disappointment its heavy cross brings, - Lord, in each trial Thy love let us see; - Change e’en our heaviest woes into wings, - Onward and upward to bear us to Thee!”’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Feb. 12, 1892._ - - ‘MINE OWN PRECIOUS SISTER,--Again have you been called to the - trial of sickness and suffering.... These trials may seem strange - and unaccountable to the children of earth, but how differently - they are regarded by the children of light! They make us keep - closer to the Father’s side,--cling more to His supporting - Hand,--the weights _do_ turn into wings! O how often have I - during late days thought of that little parable! And when we - reach the Blessed Shore, and “know as we are known,” we shall - fully realise _why_ it is good that we should be afflicted.... - - ‘I was reading the Commandments aloud in a village yesterday, - when a bright young Hindu Pandit--rather well read--objected - to the Second. The poor fellow was probably conscious that he - himself was constantly breaking the Second Commandment. It - interested me to hear a middle-aged sensible-looking Sikh take - the other side, quietly, and with perfect good-temper. Each of - the men afterwards accepted a Gospel, one in Gurmukhi, one in - Urdu.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Feb. 18._--I am thankful for improved accounts of you.... We - have had rather an eventful week for Batala.... On Monday the - dear Bishop came in. Herbert asked me to take luncheon with him - on Tuesday. It was very nice; just the Bishop, Herbert, and - four nice Native Christians. I was the only lady.... At half-past - three we had a very interesting Confirmation Service in the - Church, to which the Bishop drove me. He gave a very nice - address, which Herbert translated beautifully into Panjabi, for - the benefit of the simple peasants. On the following morning - the Bishop gave in English such a practical _heart-searching_ - address to us workers! He looked so earnestly at us ladies, - and was evidently anxious to do us real good. His was no idle - display of eloquence; rather did his address resemble the - admonition of a kind wise father. We did not see him after we - left the chapel.... - - ‘We have had a singularly mild and bright cold weather.... How - curious it would be to an English farmer to see fields green - with corn in February,--the Spring crop,--and, at the same - time, other bits of ground being ploughed up for the sowing - of another crop! There seems something always growing. There - are lovely roses and fruit blossoms, but the weather is now - comparatively dark and dull.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_April 8, 1892._--The Muhammadans in Batala seem to be in - a much better humour than they may be expected to be during - the Ramazan--their grand fast. I have visited a good many - Muhammadan Zenanas this week; and in not one, so far as I - remember, have I heard a word about the fast, which was apt - to make them so bigoted and self-righteous. No one objects - when I repeat in Urdu the precious text, “By grace ye are - saved, through faith,” etc. Indeed, I believe that a good many - Batala folk think that after all our religion is better than - their own. I repeat “God so loved ----” more often, I think, - than any other text; and I have not lately heard the shocked - exclamation, “Tauba! tauba!”[136] Perhaps it will be different - to-morrow, when I propose visiting two villages, which were so - bigoted and disagreeable, that I at one time struck both out - of my visiting-list. Minnie induced me to give them--at least - one of them--another trial, as she had given medical aid to - the wife of the Maulvi (Muhammadan religious teacher of the - place), and had found him very polite. No doubt the Dispensary - opens doors. I found the Maulvi bigoted but civil, and ... - willing to receive a New Testament.... I enjoy the quiet walk, - and then ride in my duli, in the cool fresh morning, when I - visit villages. The harvest has commenced. Here I see fields - of ripening corn, there the scattered sheaves. But the harvest - is not so plentiful as it was last year. We had too dry a cold - weather; not nearly so chilly as the former one. I am taking - out illuminated texts just now. I have beautiful ones, both in - Persian, Urdu, and Gurmukhi. It is interesting to see peasants, - somewhat more intelligent than their fellows, spelling out the - precious verses from Scripture.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_April 12._--PRECIOUS DARLING LAURA,--The Mail has to-day - brought me in your letter of March 24th; the first _clear_ - intimation of the nature of your illness. I will not say that - my eyes are dry. I own that the selfish thought arose,--“Would - that _I_ had had it instead!” And yet I prefer knowing the - plain truth. I have comfort in the thought, “I am old; - whichever of us is taken _first_, the meeting--O what a joyful - meeting!--may not be far off!” ... - - ‘I am thankful that you do not suffer greatly. I fondly hope - that this trial may be spared. I do not feel inclined to add - more. I need not,--you know so much of your own loving Char.’ - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_April 13, 1892._ - - ‘Though I wrote to your beloved Mother yesterday, and shall - only be just in time to catch the post, my heart impels me to - send a letter to you, my dear afflicted God-daughter. I know - that you try bravely to bear up under your sore trial, so as - not to add to that of your precious invalid.... I am glad that - I have been told the worst. It has been good for my soul! - Only the day before the mail came in, I had been foolishly, - sinfully, brooding over trifles, till I even showed outward - irritation, instead of reflecting that small annoyances as - well as great troubles are God’s loving discipline for us. - Alas! that I should have shown temper! The next day the Lord - sent a _quiet, holy_ sorrow, and it did me good,--tears were - wholesome,--I felt that I had been petty and irritable, and - deserved a different kind of trial. I have been more under - discipline since I attained the age of seventy than I have - perhaps ever been before in India. But should _trifles_ disturb - the serenity of a Servant of a Crucified Saviour?... Thinking - of your real grief, I hope to be more patient with petty - annoyances.... - - ‘Write freely to me, dear Leila. To help you in your trouble - will not do me harm but good.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_April 17, 1892._--Beloved Laura, “The Lord is Risen indeed!” - This is the Easter greeting, and this is Easter morn. I shall - soon start for church; but first I would remind my darling - sister and myself of words like the clarion of a silver - trumpet, followed by the sound of an angel’s harp:-- - - ‘“The Lord hath triumphed gloriously; - The Lord shall reign victoriously! - Seals assuring, - Guards securing, - Watch His earthly prison! - Seals are shattered, - Guards are scattered,-- - Christ hath Risen!” - - ‘“No longer then let mourners weep, - Or call departed Christians ‘dead!’ - For death is hallowed into sleep. - Each grave becomes a bed.” - - ‘“It is _not_ exile--peace on high; - It is not sorrow,--rest from strife; - To fall asleep is _not_ to die; - To be with Christ is better life!” - - ‘How beautiful are these lines,--how true!... - - ‘Oh, what Heavenly wisdom Missionaries need!... It seems to - me that dear people at home have a very imperfect idea of - Missionaries, and, in their prayers, probably ask for comfort - in trial for God’s servants, rather than for the wisdom which - is from Above,--the gentle influence of the Holy Spirit. Ask - this for me, my Laura. I do get impatient sometimes, and I make - mistakes.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_May 2, 1892._--Books are a great enjoyment when I am alone, - or sitting, as I am at present, by the bedside of one who has - been ill, though now, thank God, recovering. We have had such a - sick house, your Char keeping well, when it seemed as if nobody - else would; delicate Miss ---- coming next on the roll of - health. She has been able to take the housekeeping, and to help - in the nursing, so we are getting on, and hope that all will - come right soon. Miss Dixie took four children to Clarkabad, - and returned April 23rd, quite ill.... Miss Wright is nursing - her. Then ... Daisy and Miss Copes came almost suddenly in from - Futteyghur; Daisy’s fever had alarmed Miss Copes.... Miss Copes - had her turn next, and has suffered severely.... Char has felt - some comfort from being of some use here.’ - -FROM THE REV. R. CLARK. - - ‘CHESHIRE, _May 3, 1892_. - - ‘MY DEAR MRS. HAMILTON,-- ... I saw dear Miss Tucker shortly - before I left Amritsar. She is, as you know, not strong; 2 Cor. - iii. 13, R.V., always occurs to me when I see her. God is daily - using her to be a blessing to us all.’ - -C. M. T. TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_May 8_ (_Seventy-first Birthday_). - - ‘I am sure that my precious Laura has been thinking of me - to-day, as I have been thinking of her.... - - ‘I think that it was some time before 5 A.M. that Mr. Corfield - and his boys came to greet me with a hymn. I was in my - dressing-gown, but hastily popped on my bonnet and went out - to shake hands with everybody. As it is well known that I do - not wish gifts, and prefer simple trifles that are useful, - my presents were judiciously chosen, and are, to my mind, - curiously symbolical. - - ‘The Corfields gave me a box of soap,--fragrant, and typical - of cleansing. Miss Wright, a pretty little box of vaseline. - This pleased me particularly. I have said, and I think written, - that every Missionary should have a box of ointment, symbol of - peace-keeping and peace-making! Now _I_ have one myself. Minnie - gave _pens_. May I make a good use of them!... Dear Babu Singha - has given me a hand-pankah (fan), which I waved gratefully - in church this morning. This is an emblem of refreshment in - oppressive heat.... - - ‘Dear Mr. Baring’s admirable building for the Mission Plough - is to be opened to-morrow by the Deputy Commissioner; and I - suppose that Muhammadan and Hindu big or little wigs will be - present. I am glad that my birthday falls on Sunday; so that - the tamasha is postponed till the next day. There is something - solemn about the Anniversary, when one has travelled so far - on the Homeward road. You will feel this, darling, on the - 20th.[137] ... Dear Herbert’s sermon to-day was on “Seekest thou - great things for thyself? Seek them not!” We should never have - known Baruch’s failing but for that warning word. I have been - very much tamed down, dearest.’ - -TO THE REV. F. H. BARING. - - ‘_May 9, 1892._ - - ‘I must tell you of the grand opening of your beautiful School - building to-day, while the scene is fresh in my mind, and - before the coming in of the home mail.... The thermometer has - been nearly 92° in my room this morning. - - ‘The fine building was well filled; the part nearest the - table with Europeans and Baring boys; the Plough boys, very - numerous, had the larger space; and in front, on chairs, in - stiff dignity, sat the city magnates.... We sang a hymn; Mr. - Wright ... read a Psalm; and, we Christians standing, Herbert led - the prayer. Then my Nephew[138] made a short speech, followed - by a nice one from dear Babu Singha, and a kind of brief, - satisfactory report from Nobin Chanda. - - ‘And then up rose the Deputy Commissioner, and, to my great - surprise and great amusement, gave, in rough Urdu, such a - _whipping_ to Batala and her magnates, as I never heard in a - speech in my life. First,--Batala, poor Batala, was not like - any other city; it was so quarrelsome! Clearly, the Deputy - Commissioner (like Mr. ----, who told me nearly sixteen years - ago that Batala was the most troublesome and litigious city - in the district) has no fancy for the place. Then the whip - came down on the shoulders of the poor rais;[139] and it was - mercilessly plied. The magnates had to bear the indignation - of the Englishman for doing their best--or worst--to prevent - our getting ground for the school or the proposed Mission - Hospital. For whose benefit was the latter? asked the irate - Deputy Commissioner. Not for our own, but that of the women and - children of Batala! In short, the Englishman whipped the poor - magnates, till he made them bleed--in their purses. He told - them that money was wanted for school-benches, etc., and let - them know that their aid would be desirable. Paper was on the - table.... Some put down rupees; some wrote down promises. About - 701 were thus collected.... The whole thing was so funny that I - could not help being greatly amused. I wonder what the scolded - Muhammadans said, when they went back to their Zenanas.... - - ‘Herbert said in his speech that your fine building will also - be used as Library, Reading-room, and Lecture-room. I think - there will be a Sunday-school also.’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘_May 15, 1892._--My precious Laura, you wish me to ask for - you more faith and love. I ask _more_, even for floods of joy. - Why not, darling? “Ask, and ye shall receive!” ... My trial, as - regards this matter, is different from yours. I have to learn - patience to restrain yearning to depart and be with Christ. I - have twice, as it were, in dangerous illness,--what men call - “dangerous,”--caught a glimpse of the River; and it seems - glittering with sunbeams! I _long_ to cross it; but I feel that - it would be wrong to pray to go. The Master only knows when - we are ready to go Home; but how my spirits rise, if I see - any likelihood of the time being near! I do not feel this at - present, for I have such a good constitution. Three out of four - of my Mission ladies here have been seriously ill; with the - fourth I can see that it is a weary struggle to get on; and I, - an aged woman, am not ill at all! I do not suppose that any of - the four really wish to quit the field--or the school. The one - who does _may_ be kept long at her post. None can tell! I fall - back on “The Lord knows best.”’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_May 20._--This is my own beloved Laura’s Birthday,--a day - which Char is not likely to forget. Sweet peace and joy be - yours, darling. You have added to the happiness of many. - You have, as it were, washed the disciples’ feet, and you - are sitting at the Lord’s Feet. That is what dear, saintly - Fanny described as “the position of a Christian.” Is it not - a wondrous thought that you and I may be welcomed by such as - Fanny? She was not beautiful on earth; but how fair she will - be, raised “in His likeness”! The Saviour will be “admired in - His saints,”--a very remarkable expression, and a sweet subject - for thought. There is so much in us now _not_ to be admired; - but when He comes to make up His jewels, _all_ will be bright - and fair.... - - ‘This has been a particularly hot season.... You would think - 91° warm in a bedroom at night. Miss ---- and Daisy sleep out - on the roof: but I think myself too old for the chance of a - midnight scramble in my night-clothes, carrying my bedding down - an outside stair, should a dust-storm or thunder-storm come on. - I keep on the prudent side, which is _in_side.... A Sunday-school - has been opened in Mr. Baring’s beautiful new School-house. - Attendance is of course voluntary; and Mr. and Miss Wright, who - have started the Sunday-school, and who only expected to find - about twenty boys, were pleased to find about _sixty_ pupils; - not only the “Plough” boys, but their teachers. Was not this - grand?... I hope that dear Francis’ new building will be one of - the best means of bringing hard-hearted Batala to the knowledge - of the Saviour. The laddies are often not hard at all, but - pleased and eager to hear about the Christian Faith. The next - generation may be very different from the present one.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_May 29._--Do not regret having told me about your state of - health. I like to know the truth, and at my advanced age may - well face it. Whether my darling Laura or myself be taken - _first_, the remaining one will have comfort. It is but a - “little while”-- - - ‘“Till He come! O let the words - Linger on the trembling chords, - Let the little space between - In their golden light be seen!”’ - -Early in June Miss Tucker took the long journey to Simla, accompanied -part of the way by Dr. Weitbrecht, and afterwards by Dr. Lankester. -Through the thoughtful kindness of various friends, the journey was made -as little fatiguing to her as possible. On her arrival she was so worn -out as to sleep thirteen hours, with only one break, but was afterwards -none the worse. Writing of the kind Cousins with whom she had gone to -stay, she says: ‘The boys are charming, so clever, bright, and loving. -They make of me as much as if I were a pet Grandmother. I bought a little -toy for them; and they were so much delighted with it, that I must have -had between the three boys nearly a dozen kisses for it. I wonder that -they are so fond of kissing a wrinkled old face.’ - -On June 17 she wrote from Simla:-- - - ‘I am treated here with great kindness and consideration. I am - not pressed to exert myself; but of course I take my part when - friends come to dinner. To-day we are to have four Calcutta - Missionary ladies for dinner and games. To-morrow an old friend - of mine, Carry H., and her husband, and Lord Radstock. One of - the most lovable guests that we have had is our own Bishop of - Lahore. I am to go to his lecture on Isaiah this evening.... - - ‘There is an excellent piano here, and dear Mackworth Young - plays exquisitely.... How you would have enjoyed Beethoven’s - Hallelujah Chorus, which he has played to me twice from memory! - “Worlds unborn shall sing His glory--the exalted Son of God!” - Do not those words recall the dear old Ancient Concerts? - Yesterday I was tempted, when alone, to open the piano myself; - and what do you think was one of the things which I sang and - played? My Laura’s “The Lord He is my Strength and Stay!” - _That_ too reminds of old times. O what will Heaven’s music be!’ - -The following letter, written from Simla to Miss Raikes, was on the -subject of a translation into Bengali of her little book, _The Story of -Dr. Duff_:-- - - ‘_June 20, 1892._--If I have neglected thanking you for a copy - of your translation, pray forgive an aged and half worn-out - Missionary;--I am seventy-one, and in weak health. In our - Panjab I have no intercourse with Bengalis, except such as know - English more or less; and I am not acquainted with a word of - the Bengali language, Urdu and Panjabi being what is spoken, so - that I could not myself judge of your translation. At Simla, - however, where I am on a visit, I hear that there are Bengalis, - and I might find some to whom I could present the book, which - has been your labour of love. I cannot but hope that you have - not published 2000 copies at your own expense. I never do; but - a Society prints, and takes the risk. If the Bengalis be like - the Panjabis, it will be difficult to sell so many copies at - 8 annas each. If I remember rightly, my little _Life of Duff_ - only costs 2 annas; and _our_ people think that a good deal! - But Bengal may be more liberal.’ - -The next letter--like one or two on the same topic, already quoted--is -of peculiar interest, because, some three years earlier, Miss Tucker had -been a good deal exercised in spirit about the fact of Bishop French’s -successor being a decided High Churchman, and had more than once written -in strong and melancholy terms to her sister on the subject. The tone -in which she now wrote, in 1892, is remarkable, as being by no means in -accord with her former prejudices. But Charlotte Tucker, as I have had -occasion to remark before, was not one of those small-natured people, who -always stick fast to what they have said, because they have said it. She -was ever ready for fresh light upon any matter. It appears to me that we -see here in her some measure of that widening of spiritual outlook, which -ought to become visible with advancing years and with a closer knowledge -of the Spirit of Christ. Probably she was not herself definitely -conscious of any difference. - - ‘SIMLA, _July 3, 1892_.--My beloved Laura, I have just come - from church, from partaking of Holy Communion. Our Bishop - preached. It was a sermon whose gist I do not think that I - shall ever forget; for it presented a most familiar text in--to - me--quite a new and very striking light: “Blessed are the poor - in spirit.” The Bishop said that many persons--I was amongst - them--“took the Blessing as meant for the _humble_”; but he, - referring to the parallel passage in St. Luke’s Gospel, showed - that this is a limitation of the meaning. The poor in spirit - are those who count themselves as actually _possessors_ of - nothing; the goods which are called theirs are merely _lent_ - of God, to be taken up or laid down simply at His pleasure. - In the face of a large congregation, in gay, fashionable, - money-seeking Simla, our Bishop with fervent energy preached a - sermon on _Unworldliness_! May God write it in the hearts of - the hearers! - - ‘I thank God for our Bishop. His influence is of untold value; - he is so gentle, courteous, considerate, that he does not, - I should think, usually give offence. I had the enjoyment - yesterday of, I think, more than an hour’s _tête-à-tête_ with - him. It interested me much, for Bishop Matthews never puts - himself on a pedestal. If his Episcopal position resembles - one, he comes down at once, with humility and frankness, and - seems like a brother. The Bishop never appears to mind in the - least my not calling him “lord,” either in correspondence or in - speaking. One has the impression that he does not care a straw - about it. I am struck by the pains which he is taking about the - case of a young Native Christian.... The Bishop is investigating - the matter with father-like interest.... It is a cause of deep - thankfulness that European or Native can appeal to a good, wise - Bishop.’ - -Miss Tucker does not, here or elsewhere, state why she objected to -calling a Bishop “my lord.” - -TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON. - - ‘_July 3, 1892._ - - ‘We had a Missionary Meeting last week, at which the most - striking speech was that of Mr. Lefroy[140] of Delhi. I could - not help thinking this, though the Bishop, Mr. Young, and - my dear nephew, Dr. Weitbrecht, spoke before him. In simple, - manly fashion, as one not thinking of human praise, Mr. Lefroy - described what seemed to me like a grand single combat between - himself and a Muhammadan Hafiz,--one who knows the whole Koran - by heart--of great influence. The Hafiz, a great opposer of - Christianity, asked Mr. Lefroy to have a _long_ discussion - with him, not saying that he must go, or was tired, etc. Our - champion accepted the challenge at once. The Hafiz appointed a - mosque as the place of meeting. - - ‘Mr. Lefroy went at the appointed hour, and, to his surprise, - found about 500 Muhammadans waiting for him. They were very - attentive listeners; but great, very great, must have been the - strain upon the noble and gifted Missionary. Till midnight, - for about five hours and a half, in hot Delhi, in the fiery - month of June, Mr. Lefroy held up the Christian Banner against - the Hafiz and others. At midnight, after one Muhammadan had - been arguing against our Faith, the Hafiz said to him: “If - you can bring forward no better arguments, _I will take the - Missionary’s hand, and go out with him_!” He did not do so - then; he had not sufficient courage to face the storm of - opposition; and again he failed on another occasion, to Mr. - Lefroy’s great disappointment. But after months, that Hafiz is - a Baptized Christian now. God gave His champion the victory at - last!’ - -TO MISS HOERNLE. - - ‘_July 18, 1892._ - - ‘I am still, as you see, at Simla, but expect to start on my - long journey downhill on the 21st. We have had a great quantity - of rain. I hear that Batala is flooded, so the heat will be - much lessened.... - - ‘Yesterday was Sunday, and the dear Bishop and a few others - dined with us, and we had nice hymn-singing afterwards. How you - would have liked to have occupied my seat at the dinner-table! - I was next the Bishop, and Dr. Weitbrecht sat just opposite.... - - ‘I need not tell you that the mountains are very beautiful; - especially, to my mind, when a white cloud, which has been, as - it were, quite blotting them out, is lifted, and one beholds - the glorious peaks and wooded valleys, lovely in the bright - sunshine. It reminds one of the American Poet’s striking lines - on a yet loftier theme,-- - - ‘“Soon shall the whole - Like a parchéd scroll - Before my amazéd eyes uproll, - And without a screen, - At a burst be seen, - The Presence in which I have ever been!” - - ‘Ah, dear Maria, well may we exclaim-- - - ‘“O to be ready, ready, for that Day-- - Who would not cast Earth’s dearest joys away!”’ - -TO MRS. HAMILTON. - - ‘BATALA, _Aug. 8, 1892_.--Daisy and I are living in a - remarkably damp world, as beautifully green as green can - be. The rain is pouring furiously. My kahars had to wade - through water to take me to the city. I had a good fire in - my Gurub-i-Aftab to-day, not for warmth, but to keep away - mustiness.... Damp is by no means as trying to me as cold, and it - is a comfort to be in no danger of sand-storms. No dust now; - only “water, water, everywhere.” Happily I cannot add, “not a - drop to drink”!... We have quite a bevy of our Mission ladies up - at the Hills. I am very glad that they are there. Hard-working - Minnie seems to be enjoying herself so thoroughly. Did I tell - you of a Hindu presenting, for her projected Hospital, a - piece of ground, worth 700 rupees? Herbert had a meeting of - principal Batala folk; and such interest was shown in Minnie’s - work, that--including a hundred rupees from the kind Deputy - Commissioner--551 rupees have been given or promised for the - proposed Hospital.’ - -TO MISS EDITH TUCKER. - - ‘_Aug. 18, 1892._ - - ‘I will tell you between ourselves, for I would not trouble - sweet Aunt Hamilton about anything, that, in my old age, - since I have attained seventy, I have had more experience of - difficulties and worries than perhaps at any other period of my - long Indian career. I need not describe the worries; they are - things that rub one, chafe one, make life’s burden heavier. And - why are they permitted, darling? I think that they keep us in - a more humble, _clinging_ position. We cannot ask sympathy for - such little things; we are pitied for some troubles; others we - must keep to ourselves,--the latter perhaps try us most. But - the dear Saviour knows! He experienced daily trials of patience - as well as great afflictions. It is good to remember this. - Christ, in addition to cruel persecution from open enemies, had - to bear the dulness of perception, the weakness of faith, the - ambition, the tendency to quarrel, of His daily companions. If - great troubles are like the burdens which expand into wings, - it seems to me as if petty worries may turn into the soft, - downy little feathers which line the wings. They make our wings - softer for those whom we have to shelter beneath them. For as - the Lord spreads His great Wing over us, He means us to spread - our small ones over others.’ - -TO MISS L. V. TUCKER. - - ‘_Sept. 21, 1892._ - - ‘You call me “Fairy Frisket,” dear. If I be like a Fairy, it is - not pretty little Frisket, but rather the old woman of Nursery - stories, with wrinkled face and high cap. Yet here I have - frisked to Futteyghur. We have a little Christian congregation - of peasant converts here, who assemble twice a day in a large, - neat room, which serves for a church. It is well matted, and - has a red curtain down the middle, to divide the men from the - women. All sit on the ground; only Auntie, on account of her - age, is allowed a low seat. It is quite easy to me to sit on - the ground; but to get up again,--“there’s the rub.” - - ‘“What o’clock is Service?” I asked of our excellent Native - Pastor. “Half-past five in the morning; afternoon half-past - five. Before sunrise, and before sunset.” I thought half-past - five A.M. rather early; but of course we accommodate our - convenience to that of the peasants, who have to go to their - work. Says I to Daisy, “You may trust me to awaken you at - five!” This is no hard matter to Auntie!... When I sallied forth - I could see Orion in the sky.’ - -A few more scattered extracts from Miss Tucker’s Journal may end this -chapter. - - ‘_Feb. 21, 1892. Sunday._--The best I have had since Narowal. - Prayer seemed answered. - - ‘_Feb. 22._--Villages. Little B. H. Gave one Urdu Gospel to - a young man. Some listened, but I encountered some rudeness. - Almost pushed away. Ladder. Widow of Nain.... Went to house of - Maulvi F.... He courteous. Some children rude. Sent him one of - Gwynn’s Gospels. - - ‘_May 3._--Blessed rain. Three invalids recovering. Thank God. - - ‘_May 4._--Plough. Subject Passover. K. very nice. Gave - Gurmukhi Primer. Saw P. D.... Remembers Maria. Wants to learn - Urdu. Had good conversation with S.... Saw pretty bibi and nice - brother. He read first part of Acts ii. I lent him _Daybreak_. - - ‘_May 29._--Too poorly to go to early church. - - ‘_June 1._--Too poorly to go out. Wrote to poor, dear R. C. - - ‘_June 3._--Plough. Short work; very weak. Too weak and poorly - for work. - - ‘_June 10._--Left Batala. Dr. Lankester my escort. - - ‘_June 11._--Reached Simla, much wearied. Slept about thirteen - hours. - - ‘_Aug. 3._--A. B. Man sent me off at once; but almost - immediately recalled me; and I had a very good talk with him. - - ‘C.’s Bibi. Courteous and pleasant. - - ‘D. E. Good visit. - - ‘F. Middling. - - ‘G. H. She nice; but grumbling zemindar came in. - - ‘Old J. indifferent as usual. - - ‘H. did not see her, but sweet J. K.’ - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -A.D. 1892-1893 - -THE LAST GREAT SORROW - - -With the coming of autumn, accounts of Mrs. Hamilton’s state grew -steadily worse. In the middle of October Miss Tucker went for a few -days to Rawal Pindi; and the last letter which she received there, -before starting on her return journey, prepared her for the coming blow. -Arriving at Batala station in the early morning, her first question was-- - -‘Is there a telegram?’ - -There was a telegram, and it was given to her immediately. Before seeing -a word, Miss Tucker knew what the missive had to tell,--knew that her -dearly loved sister had passed away. She opened it, and burst into a -flood of tears. Reaching home, Miss Dixie led her to her own room, and -there left her for a little while alone. - -Probably no sorrow in all her lifetime, except the death of her Father -and the death of Letitia, had touched her so closely as this sorrow; and -even they were not the same, because through them she always had still -her Laura. Now the sense of loneliness pressed upon her heavily. Whatever -she had thought, whatever she had wished, whatever had aroused her -interest or appealed to her sympathies, the immediate impulse had ever -been to tell it to Mrs. Hamilton,--perhaps even more during these long -years in a far-off land, than in her English life. But indeed from very -childhood, from the time when Laura was a little rosy, sweet-tempered, -merry maid of four, and Charlotte was a wild-spirited, impulsive, and -ambitious child of eight, the tie between them had been of a very unusual -nature. They did not love merely as sisters, but as the nearest and -dearest of intimate personal friends. What made the one happy made the -other happy. What grieved the one grieved the other. - -And now for a while the tie was seemingly broken; intercourse was at an -end. True, Charlotte Tucker had been for sixteen long years and more -separated by land and ocean from her sister. But the communion of mind -with mind had been incessant throughout. True, the break was for a very -little while. But this she could not possibly know. Old as she was, old -in some respects beyond her years, she yet had a strong constitution, -and a marvellous amount even now of wiry vigour. Weak she might be, in a -sense; nevertheless she could get through a round of work daily which few -women of seventy would dream of attempting. It was well within the bounds -of possibility that her life might be extended through another ten or -twelve years, or even longer. - -‘She felt her sister’s death most dreadfully,’ one of her nieces has -said. Yet she did not lie crushed beneath the weight of her grief. Work -had still to be done; and others had to be thought of and comforted. - -On the very day that she received the telegram she wrote to Mrs. -Hamilton’s daughter a letter full of sympathy for her niece’s loss, -scarcely mentioning her own. - - ‘I would take you as it were into my arms, ... and weep with you, - so that I might possibly even remind you of the sympathy of the - precious Mother, whom you have _not_ lost, but parted with for - a little while. O, when you meet in Eternity, what a little - while it will appear!... You have the blessing of holy memories; - you know that you were a great comfort to the precious Invalid; - and you have the joy of hope, the hope of re-union. We are only - pilgrims on the same road; and one arrives before the other. - Both have the same Home. - - ‘“And who can tell the rapture, when the circle is complete, - And all the Family of God around the Father meet?” - - ’ ... It will be a solace to you to look after your beloved - Mother’s poor. I am sure that many had cause to bless her. - All her works of love done so quietly and unostentatiously; - but every one marked down in God’s “book of remembrance.” - What a wonderful joy the opening of that book will be! Little - kindnesses, acts of love, words of holy counsel, all marked - down, not one forgotten.... Try to _realise_ your Mother’s - happiness! Has she not looked on the Lord Jesus, heard His - Voice, received His welcome?’ - -And again on the 27th of October:-- - - ‘Try, dear one, to comfort others; and then you will find - comfort yourself. This is a world of suffering; and the best - Memorial to your precious Mother will be something that will - be a blessing to others. To think of what _she_ would have - approved will be a solace to your mind.’ - -On the same day she wrote to her nephew, the Rev. W. F. T. Hamilton: ‘I -go on with my daily Mission work; it seems what I have specially to live -for. Is it not possible that your sainted Mother takes an interest in it -still?’ - -In the first letter to Mrs. J. Boswell, after receiving the telegram, she -spoke more openly of her own feelings:-- - - ‘_Oct. 23._-- ... Your letter to Lettie, which I saw at Pindi, - before my own followed me there, quite prepared me for Edith’s - thoughtful telegram. I received that telegram at the Batala - station, after my long dark night’s journey back from Pindi. I - thank and bless God for my precious sister’s bliss; but to me - the blank----! I suppose that the funeral will be to-morrow; - in thought I follow my poor bereaved Leila,--but my mind - dwells less on the grief of those left, than the joy of her - who is with her Saviour. I thanked God for her to-day at Holy - Communion. - - ‘I hope that there will be no unnecessary gloom to-morrow. It - seems to me so incongruous to throw a heavy black pall over the - dear form, when the spirit is wearing the shining white robe. - I hate black,--the colour of sin and spiritual death! My own - beloved sister had nothing to do with either. My tears fall as - I write; but I dare not, cannot, murmur; though life seems to - me a weary pilgrimage. I am very home-sick, my Bella; but the - Lord will call me when He knows that I am ready. He gives me - some work to do for Him. I must live for that.’ - -And again, on the 4th of November:-- - - ‘This has been a year of trials. Since I reached seventy, I - feel as if my path had grown steeper, and flowers wither. But - when the summit of the Hill is reached--what joy! I can hardly - help envying my sweet Laura; and, oh, I am thankful that she - was spared acute suffering! Her end--as regards this world--was - indeed peace; her happiness will be never-ending. You see that - I am again at Futteyghur, for about five days, to keep Miss Key - company.... It was no sacrifice to me to come out to the village, - for I was glad to be in a very quiet place just now. Batala is - too full of friends and too cheerful for my present mood. Work - is congenial; not cheerful meetings. Mrs. Corfield gave a sort - of Concert on Wednesday, to which every one was invited; but I, - of course, stayed at home. There is no one but Daisy Key and - myself here.’ - -From the Journal entries it is evident that Miss Tucker gave herself only -one clear day of rest--and that day a Sunday--for indulgence in any wise -of her sorrow. She had the telegram on a Saturday; and on Monday the -usual round of visiting went on. - - ‘_Oct. 20._[141]-- ... My precious Laura departed.’ - - ‘_Oct. 22._--Returned to Batala. Telegram.’ - -This is the brief Diary notice of what occurred. - -The next few months were marked by no very especial events; only the -usual ups and downs, anxieties, disappointments, encouragements, of -Missionary work. Missionaries came and went as usual; and partings took -place, some of which tried her much. Miss Eva Warren, who had spent -several weeks with her in 1889, came in November to be a permanent inmate -of ‘Sunshine’; no small pleasure to Miss Tucker. But Miss Warren, like so -many others, broke down under the Panjab climate; and in the spring of -1893 she had to give up her post and return home. - -In April 1893 Miss Tucker wrote to her niece, Miss L. V. Tucker:-- - - ‘Though I have written playfully to your father, I am not in - a playful mood. This is such a year of partings for your poor - old Auntie. You know about my Louis and Lettie; then energetic - Minnie Dixie left us; to-day I go to the station for the - last look of the dear, good Corfields ... and their three fine - children, accompanied by Rosa Singha, who has been such a help - and comfort here. On Monday week sweet Eva Warren, one of my - most lovable companions, leaves me.... I do not expect to see her - again on earth. Next month Rowland Bateman, my very tip-top - favourite amongst all Missionaries, is to start for England. - What a blessing it is that there is One Friend Who says, “I - will never leave thee, nor forsake”; “Even to hoar hairs I will - carry you”!’ - -A few slight recollections of Miss Warren’s may well come in here. They -are of particular interest, being almost entirely of this last year of -Miss Tucker’s life, after the death of Mrs. Hamilton. The two had been -very little together before November 1892, when Miss Warren returned from -eighteen months’ sick-leave, to be again in three months invalided. - -‘She was very impulsive,’ Miss Warren says. ‘We used to say of her -sometimes that she needed cool young heads to guide her. Her energy was -very remarkable. During the last cold weather I was with her, I could -see how much she felt the cold, but she would not give in in the least.... -Being an Honorary Missionary, she was very scrupulous about not taking -any extra privileges in the way of holidays.... My impression is that she -had formerly known the language better than she did latterly. In spite -of her efforts not to forget what she had learned, some had slipped away -from her. She said to me one day: “I speak Hindustani as the Duke of -Wellington used to talk French.” “Oh,” I said, “how was that?” “Bravely!” -she said. She had a very merry way of laughing, when anything amused her. - -‘She said to me once: “I think what is wanted out here is--Missionaries’ -graves. Not the graves of young Missionaries, who have died here, but the -graves of old Missionaries, who have given their whole lives for these -people!” ... She was very humble about her own work, and used sometimes to -be quite depressed after reading accounts of other people’s successful -work, thinking that she had met with no success.’ - -Miss Warren relates also how she would not unfrequently say: ‘So-and-so -is one of those people who think me a great deal better than I am.’ Her -conversation was still very bright and full of interest; the active mind -had by no means parted with its vigour. Sometimes she would talk eagerly -about old days, and tell stories of the Duke of Wellington, a subject -which always aroused her. Or again she would plunge into the topic of -Shakespeare’s Plays. Or she would read some of her favourite Spurgeon’s -Sermons. Another pet book of hers was Baxter’s _Saints’ Rest_; and this -she read through with Miss Warren. Occasionally still she would read -aloud one of her own stories in the evening. Happily, she retained her -old love of games; and they must have been a great relaxation after -the hard day’s work. Sometimes, when Miss Warren had been reading or -studying, she would say: ‘Now you must come and frisk a little!’ - -The old untidiness in dress had never been overcome; and the mixture -of colours was often remarkable. But though the clothes might not be -artistically chosen, or put on with great neatness, they were always -daintily clean,--no matter how many years they might have been in use. - -Thin and fragile-looking as Miss Tucker had always been, she was by this -time hardly more than mere skin and bone; and her face was singularly -covered all over with fine wrinkles. This it was, no doubt, which helped -to give her the appearance, spoken of by so many, of being far older -than she really was,--rather like ninety than like seventy. The vigour -and energy which she still retained were, however, certainly not like -ninety,--or even like seventy. - -Here are a few more selections from the Journal in the year 1893,--the -closing year of Charlotte Tucker’s Indian life:-- - - ‘_Feb. 21._--Village. B. Saw fourteen girls; only eleven worthy - of being counted. Heard of five more. C. D. Did not see him, - but E., F., and another familiar face. Men and women listened - to story of Knocking, etc. Some man said, did not understand - me. I repeated John iii. 16, and asked E. to repeat it too. He - did so, and no one could pretend not to understand. I asked E. - to instruct them; he said simply that it was difficult for a - Hindu to teach about Christ, and twice said that a Christian - preacher should be sent. Hindu Bibis nice. Seeing the picture - of Knocking, they seemed to understand; and one or two appeared - to _have_ opened the door of the heart....’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Feb. 22._--G. H. Gentle, pleasing. I lent her _Stories for - Women_. J. nicer than I have ever found her. K., a delightful - visit. Her husband, L. M., a fine-looking man, has returned, - and the family are _so_ happy. I saw first one, then another - child, on the father’s knee; the sweet wife’s face is full of - pleasure. L. M. says that he is going to be a Christian.... His - brother, N. O., seems a thoughtful, nice man. He is puzzled - about God’s having a Son, but told me that he did not ask - questions for controversy, but wishing to be instructed....’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_March 27._--Village. P. Sirdar’s house. Pretty bibi, not - attentive, and bhatija ill-mannered. Other boys listened, - specially nice R. ... Take more Urdu and Gurmukhi, and a little - Hindi next time. Gave three Gospels and other books. Weather - cold.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_May 19._--S. T. Charming. U. V. sixteen years old. Appears to - be the wife of the uncle of some and _grandfather_ of others, - in the house.... Has Gospel and _Pilgrim’s Progress_. Read and - translated to me some pages of latter, with great emphasis. - Seems a believer. I have sent her Psalms in Hindi....’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_June 15._--Adopted Lefroy as Nephew.... Fancy-fair.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_June 17._--With W.’s bibi and Ayahs, Ascension and Pentecost. - Evening walk, met two respectable-looking men. Had Urdu and - Hindi Gospels in my hand. One man’s glance at Urdu encouraged - me to offer it. Man much pleased. Talked English; in some way - belongs to Viceroy. Wished to give me something for Gospel. - I said that I did not sell, but gave it with pleasure. Other - man readily received Hindi Gospel. A little farther met with a - curious-looking man, with appearance of a devotee. Offered him - Gurmukhi Gospel. Accepted eagerly, and, to my surprise, took - my hand, and said earnestly in English, “Thanks--dear--Madam!” - Lord, bless Thy Word!’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_June 27._--Returned from Simla. Happy journey downhill with - dear Lefroy. I have left Batala work for four weeks and four - days. - - * * * * * - - ‘_June 28._--Full of difficulties. Lord, help me! CLOSED - DISPENSARY.’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Aug. 31._-- ... Here closes August, a month of Blessings....’ - - * * * * * - - ‘_Oct. 28._--Village. P. started for V. But all V.’s - inhabitants seemed to have turned out for the funeral of a - young man. Probably eighty or a hundred present. I turned to - the left, where about forty women and girls were standing - or seated on the ground. I repeated twice over to them, not - singing, a little hymn which I had made; also the precious - verse, “God so loved.” Had not only good listening, but some - of the women repeated after me the burden of the hymn. I had - chest-cold, so could not have sung without coughing.’ - -The last page of Miss Tucker’s Diary, which follows immediately after -this entry of October 28, is reproduced in facsimile. - -Writing to Miss Minnie Dixie on July 21, 1893, she asked: ‘Have you heard -that I have a new nephew, Mr. Lefroy? He is Irish, of Huguenot descent.... -He is a gifted man, and a devoted Missionary.’ Mr. Lefroy, belonging to -the Cambridge Delhi Mission, which is in connection with the S.P.G., has -been mentioned in an earlier letter as arguing for over five successive -hours with Muhammadans in a mosque. This was probably the latest of her -numerous Indian ‘adoptions.’ - -She was for months in much trouble about the Dispensary, as it seemed -impossible to find any one, European or Indian, capable of undertaking it -and also free to do so. The attendance had been good; often more than a -hundred women in one day coming for help; and Miss Tucker was exceedingly -desirous to keep it open. But so many had broken down, or were absent on -furlough, that for a while the closing proved unavoidable. - -That, from time to time, Miss Tucker suffered from depression and -moods of sadness, there can be no question. She never allowed such -moods to interfere with her work; but she was not always in a state -of high spirits and rejoicing. If nothing else showed this, it would -be plain from certain brief passages in her journal, occurring at -intervals,--sometimes at long intervals. Such passages as these speak -plainly:-- - - ‘1888.--I have suffered a good deal from bodily languor and - mental depression.’ ‘1888. Depression has overtaken me. Thank - God, not doubt or despair.’ ‘1891. Felt the weight of years - much; work a struggle.’ ‘1892. I begin my seventy-second year - with a sense of weakness almost amounting to exhaustion.’ - -But these and others of the same description were exceptional. In a -general way her steadfast courage and cheerfulness were remarkable. - -On the 30th of August 1893 she wrote to Mr. Bateman in a strain as cheery -as ever, despite the weight of years and worries:-- - - ‘O MY DEAREST ROWLAND,--So you take to lecturing your ancient - Auntie, because she has come down to the Plains, where even an - old woman is _needed_, instead of being a weak, languishing, - fine lady up at Simla, where she was not needed one bit. Why, - I am ever so much more frisky here, more cheerful and well, - as well as more useful. Barring a few infirmities of age, I - am in as good health, I think, as I ever was in England. I - paid a good visit to-day to a village about four miles off, - and am none the worse. Why, Rowland, I am actually the _only_ - Missionary, man or woman, now in Batala; and I have not dear - Babu Singha, for he is at Chamba. Who would there be to escort - our little train of bibis and bachelors to Chapel every - afternoon, if an old dame were not here? I feel like a hen - with chickens; and Herbert said that we look like a school. We - are sometimes the better part of the congregation; for we have - little girls home from school, and expect more here, and two - little boys also from Narowal. Batala without a Miss T. would - be like a teapot without a top. - - ‘But you must not fancy that I am alone. Mr. Clark has - considerately sent me a lovely young German lady, to keep house - for me, which she does very nicely, and I am becoming a little - fatter. I often take her to Zenanas with me; but there she is - rather a hindrance than a help.... People will stare at her, - instead of listening to me. She cannot help being attractive. - She is very happy with me; but of course, as she does not do - Mission work, this arrangement must not continue after Miss - Clarke comes back from the Hills. - - ‘Now I hope that you are satisfied, dear Rowland, that there - has been no foolish imprudence, or worshipping of her old - broken net, on the part of your ever attached - - AUNTIE. - - ‘Kind love to Helen. Mr. Gray is to come for next Sunday’s - services!’ - -On the 13th of October, in a letter to Miss Edith Tucker, she observed: -‘I have such a nice Missionary companion, Miss Gertrude Clarke.... Batala -is filling again; it was so empty during the holidays, that, had not Miss -L. been sent to keep me company, I should have had no European within -twenty miles. I was sole Missionary here.’ - -On the 31st of the same month, October, she wrote to Miss Minnie Dixie:-- - - ‘I made a grand expedition last week,--I have still four days - of my six weeks’ holiday left; but as we enter November - to-morrow, I am not likely to take them. I actually went to - Bahrwal, and saw the Consecration of Mr. and Mrs. Perkins’ - choice little church; simple, but in nice taste.... The dear - Bishop was of course there, and held a Confirmation Service - in the afternoon, at which about twelve or fourteen Peasant - converts were received. I saw a good many friends.... - - ‘I send you a little hymn, which you may like to sing. It - is perhaps the last thing which may be composed by your - affectionate aged Auntie, - - C. M. TUCKER.’ - -From these words it would seem as if already some dim sense had come -that her time on Earth was nearly over. She was indeed drawing very -close to the dark River, which to her did not look dark but bright; -and perhaps her eyes had already caught the ‘glitter’ of its waters. A -friend, writing soon after, observed: ‘She had been growing more and more -conscious of weakness, if not actually weaker, and was looking forward -eagerly to release.’ In the month of November came what she was wont to -call ‘her Indian Birthday,’--the day on which she had first landed on -Indian shores, eighteen years before. And, as she soon after said, when -ill, though not yet so ill as to cause anxiety: ‘When the Anniversary of -my arrival in this country came round this year, I felt that my work was -done, and that I should not live to see another.’ - -To some minds it may appear as if this perpetual longing for death -contained something of a morbid and unhealthy nature. No doubt, as -a general rule, it is perfectly natural to cling to life, to shrink -from death; and where a desire for the latter exists, it often is -romantic and unnatural, or else it arises from impatience of life’s -troubles, and from a wish to escape those troubles. This, however, was -not the case with Charlotte Tucker. Her romance was never unhealthy -romance; she was not cowardly, nor was she in the least morbid. On the -contrary, she was thoroughly healthy, high-spirited, vigorous in body -and mind,--exceptionally vigorous for her years, through the greater -part of middle life and old age, till within a short time before her -death. And although she had certainly numerous trials in the course of -her seventy-two years,--as who has not?--hers was in many respects a -very happy life. She had freedom from money cares; she had plenty of -interests; she had success in her pursuits; she had abundance of loving -and steadfast friends; she had, above all, one most satisfying intimacy; -and, in addition to these things, she had a natural buoyancy, a keen -sense of fun, a ready appreciation of the ridiculous, which in themselves -would brighten life, and which are _not_ characteristics usually found in -morbid and self-centred people. - -What was unusual in her was the strong and intense realisation of the -Other World. Spiritual things to her were absolutely real. That which -is unseen was to her as if seen. The love of Christ was more to her -than the love of all earthly friends. Paradise was more to her than -Earth. It was not that she did not love Earth, but that her love for -Heaven was greater. It was not that she could not enter into the bright -things of this world, but that she found the things of the Other World -brighter still. She could never be satisfied with the present life; -because she was always craving for the higher existence, always longing -to rise ‘nearer--nearer’ to God. She was like a caged lark, impatient -for freedom. And at last, after all these years of waiting, the time was -come. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -A.D. 1893 - -THE HOME-GOING - - -Up to the end of October Miss Tucker had seemed to be on the whole much -the same as usual; though more than one watcher had noted a gradual -failure of strength. The expedition to Bahrwal, for the Dedication, -proved to be too much for her powers; especially as she insisted on -returning to Batala the same evening, so as not to break into another -day’s work. - -At the time she appeared, as Mrs. Wade afterwards wrote, ‘though frail, -wonderfully bright, ... full of conversation while talking to the Bishop -and others.’ When the ‘feast’ took place she sat upon the ground among -the Indian Christians, after her old style, utterly refusing a chair. -Some who were present left in the middle of the day, so soon as the -Dedication was over; but Miss Tucker remained till the evening, so as to -be present at the second Service. Notwithstanding her brightness, Mr. -Clark was much impressed with the alteration in her look; and he has -since said that ‘she evidently believed it to be her leave-taking.’ - -The day ended, Miss Tucker seemed very much exhausted; and when returning -by rail, with Mr. and Mrs. Wade, she lay down on the seat to rest. The -result of this expedition was a severe cold, with much hoarseness; and -though her daily work went on as usual, she must have felt very poorly. -Mr. Clark speaks of her as, a few days later, passing through Amritsar, -and calling to see himself and his wife. So ill did he think her looking, -that the expression he makes use of is: ‘Death was even then written on -her face.’ - -Others do not appear to have been so soon alarmed. On November 13, -writing to Miss Dixie, Miss Tucker mentioned casually, ‘I have a cold,’ -as an excuse for her shaking hand; and said no more. But it was ‘the -beginning of the end.’ - -About this time she kindly took in a friend, Mrs. C----, who seemed -poorly and in need of change; and who, after coming to ‘Sonnenschein,’ -proved to be seriously ill. Miss Tucker sat much with her, in a hot room; -going out from thence, late each evening, into the night air, to reach -her own little dwelling. On the 11th, two days before her letter to Miss -Dixie, she confessed to pain in the side, telegraphed for a nurse, and -went to bed. Next day, Sunday, she was up again, and at Church. Then the -Nurse appeared, to be sent off on Monday, in charge of Mrs. C----, to -Amritsar; after which again Miss Tucker went down. - -Dr. Clark came to see her; and though the fever was not very high, and -no especial anxiety was felt, it was decided that she ought to go to -Amritsar to be nursed--a Doctor there being on the spot. Miss Tucker was -much grieved at the decision. She longed to remain, and to die in her -dear Batala; and even then, evidently, she was making up her mind to -the likelihood of death. But, however unwillingly, she submitted to the -wishes of others, and went. - -[Illustration: THE LAST PAGE OF A. L. O. E.’S DIARY] - -The journey did no harm; and on arrival at Amritsar Miss Tucker was most -tenderly nursed by her friend, Miss Wauton, and others, with the help -soon of a regular nurse. But though the fever yielded to remedies, and -the bronchitis improved, both the cough and pain becoming for some days -better, she was worn out, and had no rallying power. The weakness was -extreme, and the dislike to food could not be overcome. Steadily and -slowly she sank, lasting just three weeks from the date of the latest -tremulous entry in her Journal. - -Dr. Arthur Lankester[142] had written on the 27th of October: ‘Sorry to -say Auntie has taken a severe chill at Bahrwal; she looks very frail -and weak; only, she is so wonderful that we all hope she will soon be -about once more, to cheer us all with her bright, sweet smile.’ He wrote -again on Nov. 22: ‘Dear Miss Tucker has been moved to the Mission-house -here,[143] and I am thankful to be allowed to be with her. She is very, -very ill, but so bright, and longing to go “Home.” I fear she is fast -sinking. It is a great privilege to be allowed to help look after her.’ -And again, on Nov. 30: ‘Auntie sinking fast; the end can’t be far off. -O what joy and glory are waiting for her!--for us a terrible blank that -nothing can fill. No one could be quite like her.’ - -The last dictated letter of Charlotte Tucker was to her niece, Mrs. J. -Boswell, on the 21st of November:-- - - ‘MY DEAREST BELLA FRANCIS,--You will all like to know how I am - getting on. I have come again to House Beautiful in Amritsar, - where the four sweet damsels, Faith, etc., glide about to see - to my comfort. Yesterday dear Gertrude joined us, and also Miss - B. A., so there is a regular bevy. Dr. Clark said yesterday, - with a very broad smile, that we were getting on; but I cannot - quite see the pith of this. When a worn-out ekka horse tumbles - down on the road, and no one can make him get up, one can - scarcely say that he is getting on. Getting up must come first. - I ought to be very thankful for so much kindness; but you can - imagine, darling, that when I hope to soar on eagle’s wings, it - is rather a trial to have the doctor tie them down so tightly, - that when I hope to fly I cannot even creep. - - ‘I fancy this has been an attack of bronchitis and influenza. - Now this is difficult to me even to dictate. Would you have - little bulletins roughly printed on my account, and put them - in envelopes, and send them to ----?‘: after which follows a - list of relatives and friends in England, together with one or - two short messages, and a request that they would ask for her - ‘patience and perfect submission.’ - -The day succeeding Miss Tucker’s arrival in Amritsar Mrs. Wade came to -see her; and during either that call or the next Miss Tucker put the -question, ‘Is my face altered?’ Mrs. Wade hesitated, unable to deny that -she saw a change. Miss Tucker immediately added: ‘Don’t mind telling me. -It is harder to be patient on this pillow than to go inside the Golden -Gate.’ And to Miss Jackson she said: ‘To depart and to be with Christ is -so _very_ much better!’ - -Many friends came to ask after her; but on account of her excessive -feebleness a very limited number could be admitted; only one or two in -the day, and merely for a few minutes each. - -One day, on hearing Mr. Clark’s voice outside, she said, ‘Is that Mr. -Clark?’ They told her that she must not see any one; she was too weak. -‘But I must see him!’ she replied; and then, ‘I _will_ see him!’--with a -flash of the old determination. When he was brought in she said to him: -‘I am dying! I know it. I am very happy,--in perfect peace,--without a -doubt or a care,--but I have none of the rapturous feelings of triumph, -which I have rather looked forward to!’ Then she added: ‘It is best as it -is!’ The next day and the day after, when Mr. Clark was again admitted, -she was both times too ill to say anything. - -She was indeed this time far too entirely worn out and exhausted, both -bodily and mentally, for any shout of joy. All was quiet trust, perfect -confidence; but eagerness and exultation were physically out of the -question. She could only wait peacefully to be carried through the waters -of the River. Rapture would come when she reached the Other Side. - -Still, there was the same longing as ever to go. Several times she -said: ‘Do not pray that I may stay here.’ And another time: ‘Christ has -abolished death! I am longing to go Home!’ - -On Sunday, November 26th, Mr. Wade came to her room for Holy Communion; -Miss Wauton and Miss Jackson being present. Miss Tucker was perfectly -clear in mind, and able to join audibly in the responses; but the -after-exhaustion was great. - -Sometimes she would speak lovingly of her friends, and would wish that -she could see one and another. ‘It is a pity Rowland Bateman is not -here,’ she said. Also she would give directions for presents to be -sent to one and another after her death. On the 27th she sent for Babu -Singha, and mentioned particulars as to the manner in which she wished -her funeral to be conducted. The boys--her dear brown boys, as she had so -often called them--were to carry her to the grave, on a native charpai. -No coffin was to be used; and the expenditure might not exceed five -rupees. She was of course to be buried in Batala. Nobody was to shed -tears; nobody was to put on mourning; and her own funeral hymn, one which -she had written quite lately in Urdu, was to be sung. - -One day Miss Jackson repeated the hymn, ‘For ever with the Lord!’--and -Miss Tucker said, ‘That is my favourite hymn!’ So it too was afterwards -chosen to be sung at the funeral. - -On Wednesday, November 29, her temperature fell to 95°; and great -difficulty was experienced in restoring it to normal. Two days later -it fell again; and this time there was no rally. The cough and other -symptoms were exceedingly trying; and all Friday night she suffered -greatly from oppression, restlessness, and weariness. Again and again she -could be heard to murmur, ‘Quickly! Quickly!’ Nothing else that she said -could be distinguished. - -Early in the morning of Saturday, December the 2nd, she became more -placid; and when asked if she felt any pain she made a negative sign. -Dr. Weitbrecht came to read and pray with her. She seemed to recognise -him, and to understand what he said; but she had no power to articulate. -Soon after this unconsciousness set in, and lasted to the end, broken -only once by a lifting of the eyelids, and an upward look, as if she saw -something which others could not see. - -At a quarter-past three in the afternoon, calmly and without a struggle, -she passed away. - -The change which came over her in death was remarkable. A change is -often seen; a return sometimes to greater youth and beauty. Death -smooths away wrinkles, refines rugged features, sharpens the outlines. -But in this case the transformation was of a rare type. ‘I never saw a -face so altered,’ wrote Dr. Clark, who had attended her. ‘It became a -face of massive power; more like that of the Duke of Wellington than -anything else; the nose particularly so, and the jaw. A strong, massive, -determined, powerful face. I suppose the power was always there, but -masked by the habitual gentleness and tender consideration for all -around, which was so beautiful a feature in her beautiful character.’ - -This allusion to the Duke of Wellington naturally recalls her ardent -admiration for him. She would in life have probably counted no compliment -greater than to have been called like him. But the description is -singular, because her features had never been of the same type as the -Duke’s features. She had not a Roman nose; and while many describe hers -as a ‘bright face,’ ‘a sparkling face,’ ‘a long, thin face,’ and even -in one case ‘a small face’ no one ever uses such words as ‘massive’ or -‘powerful,’ as descriptive of her appearance at any period of her life. -The touch of death seems to have torn away a kind of veil, leaving bare -the original outlines; perhaps to some extent indicating what the face -might have become, if unsoftened by the moulding influences of discipline. - -Miss Jackson wrote from Amritsar, on Monday, December 4th: ‘Yesterday the -Dead March was played in Church, and all the congregation stood. It was -announced that all who wished to take a last look at the dear face could -do so at our house at a certain hour; and about sixty availed themselves -of this permission.’ And Miss Wauton adds: ‘Miss Jackson will have told -you that many friends in Amritsar came on Sunday afternoon, to take -their last look at the peaceful sleeper. The hands were clasped as if in -prayer. The face was thin and worn; but this only brought out a clearer -chiselling of the features; and the calmness of death gave a grandeur and -nobility to the expression, beyond anything we had seen in the face while -living. She looked, as one friend said, “like a Crusader.”’ - -On December the 4th they bore all that remained on Earth of Charlotte -Tucker from Amritsar to Batala. As she had forbidden the use of a coffin, -the body was laid upon a small Native bedstead, and, being carefully -secured in position, was conveyed thus, not by rail but by road. On -reaching Batala, the charpai, with its quiet burden, was placed in the -Church of the Epiphany,--known colloquially as ‘the large Church,’ to -distinguish it from the little School ‘Chapel,’--there to remain till -morning. Some of the Baring High School boys took turns in watching -beside the loved form all night through. - -Next day, Tuesday, was fixed upon for the funeral. It had been delayed -unusually long, to allow friends from a distance to be present. A great -many came from Amritsar, Lahore, and other stations; and a message from -the Bishop expressed his regret at being unavoidably kept away by a -Confirmation. The Archdeacon and the Bishop’s Chaplain were both present, -as also were Dr. Weitbrecht, Mr. Clark, Mr. Wade, Mr. Mackenzie, Mr. -Wright, Mr. Wigram, Mr. Shireff, Mr. Hoare, Mr. Coverdale, and Mr. Grey, -all in white surplices. A large congregation filled the whole Church, -including Missionaries, friends, Native Christians, Non-Christians of -Batala, and boys of both the High School and the ‘Plough.’ The first part -of the Burial Service was read there; and two or three hymns were sung. -Mr. Clark preached a short sermon from Acts i. 8. - -Then began the Procession from the Church to the little Christian -Cemetery; the latter being close to ‘Sonnenschein,’ and nearly two miles -away from the Church. Happily it was a cool day; and the roads had been -well watered beforehand. A Police-guard preceded the Procession. - -First came the surpliced Clergy; then the bier, which was covered with -a white chaddah; while many beautiful white Crosses and wreaths sent -by friends were laid upon it. Some of the older schoolboys carried the -bier, taking turns. Next came the ladies and other Missionaries; also -the general congregation, and the rest of the boys. Crowds of leading -Batala men were present. A letter from Miss Wauton, written at the time, -describes the scene graphically:-- - - ‘After the Easter hymn, “Lo, in the grave He lay,” the - congregation then formed into Procession; the Clergy first, - then the Bier.... The long line of followers stretched out, - till we could scarcely see the end of it. The distance being - about two miles, the walk occupied more than an hour. Hymns - were sung the whole way; and the groups of people, Hindus - and Muhammadans, who lined the road and crowded the tops of - the houses, as we passed the city, seemed much interested in - looking on. Many of them, I think, came as far as the Cemetery. - - ‘As we passed through the gates, copies of a hymn were - distributed, which the dear Auntie had composed about three - weeks before she was taken ill. On sending it to me at the - time, she added in her letter: “Perhaps you will like to see my - little funeral hymn. Perhaps it may be sung when I go to sleep.” - - ‘We also had the hymn, “Jesus lives”; and closed with her - favourite, “For ever with the Lord.” Deep feeling was shown; - and many of the boys could scarcely restrain their tears. We - all felt we had lost a friend, such as we should never see - again. The Mission is bereaved,--not only Batala, but the whole - of the Panjab; and we all mourn our loss together.... - - ‘Dr. Weitbrecht had arranged everything for yesterday most - beautifully. The whole Service was, I think, in perfect - accordance with her wishes; simple, sweet, and solemn, yet with - an element of joy and hope about it, which was suitable to her - bright, joyous nature. We could indeed give thanks for the - fight she had fought, the course she had finished, the crown - she had won; and so we laid her down,--till the Day break and - the shadows flee away. “Till He come!”’ - -Another eye-witness, Mrs. Wade, wrote:-- - - ‘We were very thankful that it was possible to delay the - meeting at Batala till Tuesday, as it gave opportunity for - friends from some distance to be present. We all met in the - Church for the first part of the Service and sermon by Mr. - Clark,--the dear familiar face no longer among the worshippers, - but in the King’s Presence.... The walk from the Church to the - little Cemetery, quite near her own home, is long, and occupied - an hour; during which time many hymns of faith and love were - softly sung, and at the grave her own hymn, one she had - composed not six weeks ago for her own funeral.... Dr. Weitbrecht - then completed the Service.... The silence of the onlookers, as - one went towards the grave, was very noticeable. Many of them - felt that they had indeed lost a friend. A large number of the - Native gentlemen of the City were present in the Church and - during the Service, with reverent demeanour; and when we had - left, I was told, many of the poor women came to weep at her - grave. - - ‘We thank God for all she was during the long life, and - especially in the eighteen years in India.... Batala will never - be the same. Many of the elder boys, who carried her, were - weeping.’ - -And from the pen of Dr. Weitbrecht we have the following:-- - - ‘After the Burial was over, I spoke a few words about her to - the many people who had assembled from outside, trying to - impress on them the motive power of her life: “The love of - Christ constraineth us.” After most of the Clergy and visitors - had left the Cemetery, a number of women from the city came - to take a last look, and to wail at the grave. Times without - number, gentlemen of Batala and men of lower standing come to - tell me how she went to their houses, and sympathised with - their wives and daughters in joy and sorrow. Not a few will - miss her open-handed charity; and, far more, her bright, - ever-ready sympathy.’ - -The Urdu hymn, written by Miss Tucker for her own funeral, has been -roughly translated as follows:-- - - ‘The beloved Jesus sleeps in the grave; - Morn breaks, and He Who came to save - Has risen, glorious King of Kings, - Victorious o’er all evil things. - It is Christ’s power, Christ’s glorious Crown; - His rule shall spread with much renown; - Christ has risen, ne’er to die; - Hallelujah! Victory!’ - -One fact may be mentioned, as a slight token of the loving esteem in -which she was held. When Miss Wauton took the hymn to be printed, the -Manager of the Press,--not himself a Christian, but one who had known -Miss Tucker,--said immediately, ‘Oh, are those lines Miss Tucker’s? Then -I will do them for nothing.’ He printed off some hundreds at his own -expense. - -Out of the innumerable letters written to friends, after the passing away -of Charlotte Tucker, three short extracts alone must be given. - -FROM THE BISHOP OF LAHORE. - - ‘For the simple yet always aspiring spirit the change will - be a blessed one indeed! Her endurance unto the end, and her - constant rejoicing in the Lord, have been a great example, - which many of us need to follow.... It was a beautiful and - consistent life; and she will still speak, though out of - sight.’ - -FROM THE REV. ROBERT CLARK. - - ‘Miss Tucker ... will not be easily forgotten there (at Batala), - nor indeed in India generally, where her name will long - continue to be a household word, both for what she was and for - what she did. In giving her to India, the Church of Christ gave - of her very best.’ - -FROM THE REV. ROWLAND BATEMAN. - - ‘There is but one voice from India, whether it comes from - Natives or Europeans.... Do you know those lines of Toplady’s, - beginning, “Deathless Principle arise”? They are old-fashioned - and out of date, _i.e._ out of the range of the rising - generation, but they are peculiarly beautiful, and keep - recurring, as I mentally pass through the ministry which Miss - Wauton and others were privileged to offer to our beloved Aunt - in Amritsar. There is one touch in Dr. Weitbrecht’s p.c. which - may not have reached you. He mentions that many women came from - the city, to wail at the grave. This is as it should be; for - though we know better than to wail or even weep over the grave, - in them it is but the expression of love and appreciation and - real kindred. Nobody--I speak of non-Christians--weeps and - wails except over relatives. We are sorely wounded, and our - spirits suffer a sort of collapse; but we have only to go over - the hallowed, holy memory of her converse and example, to feel - refreshed and braced again. - - ‘“With joy and gladness has she been brought, - And has entered into the King’s Palace.”’ - -So ends the story of Charlotte Maria Tucker; for fifty-four years A LADY -OF ENGLAND, and for eighteen years A LADY OF INDIA. It is the story of a -brave and self-sacrificing life, whether in her quiet English home, or -in the vicissitudes of her Indian career. I have done my best to present -her simply and truly as that which she was,--a very unusual and noble -character, with of course some of those defects which are found in even -the best and noblest of men and women. Charlotte Tucker would herself -have been the first to deprecate any attempt to make her out a faultless -being. Faultless she was not; but she _was_ singularly true, unselfish, -devoted, single-hearted, earnest-minded, and loving. - -The one aim perpetually before her eyes was to carry out the Will of her -Father in Heaven, alike in the greatest and in the smallest matters. -Whether she were striving to bring the Heathen to a knowledge of the -Truth, whether she were discussing difficult questions with a Muhammadan, -whether she were writing a book, whether she were entertaining a guest, -whether she were trying to cheer a sick friend, whether she were playing -a game with little brown boys,--in any case she put the whole of herself -into the task which she had in hand, and she did it ‘unto God.’ To the -utmost of her ability, all that she undertook was done thoroughly. There -was no half-heartedness, no slurring over of one thing or another. -Difficulties, oppositions, failures, discouragements, lack of apparent -results, all these, instead of disheartening her, seemed rather to spur -her on to renewed efforts. - -Beyond the few words above, no eulogistic ending to her Biography is -needed. If her Life as it was lived does not speak for itself, mere words -of praise would be thrown away. It is possible that her example, in going -out to India after the age of fifty, will lead others to do the same; -and if so, one object of her going will have been accomplished. That may -well be the result in England of her eighteen years’ toil. The results in -India lie beyond our puny powers of measurement. - - - - -FOOTNOTES - - -[1] It was a custom in the family, through several generations, to give a -Christmas present to each child of _new silver_, the amount given being -one shilling for each year of age, and sixpence in addition. Thus, a -child of ten would receive ten and sixpence, all in new silver. - -[2] One of a band of robbers. - -[3] Chief police-officer. - -[4] At the Official East India Company’s dinner, given by the Directors; -ladies being admitted to a gallery as spectators. - -[5] A pet name for her sister. - -[6] _Two Noble Lives_, vol. ii. p. 220. - -[7] Mr. Tucker. He was never knighted. - -[8] Prince and Princess of Wales. - -[9] Of the Marylebone Workhouse. - -[10] Daughter of A. L. O. E.’s sister Laura. - -[11] Mr. Henry Carre Tucker. - -[12] The lady’s-maid. - -[13] Otho’s youngest brother, who died an infant. - -[14] A tiny Memorial of Letitia, containing some of her verses. - -[15] The two chief interests of Otho Hamilton in his short life -were--Natural History, and Missions among the Heathen. This is doubtless -in reference to the latter. - -[16] Marriage of Miss Bella Frances Tucker to her cousin, the Rev. James -Boswell. - -[17] Mr. St. George Tucker retired this year (1869) from the Indian Civil -Service; and his sister Fanny was at this time paying along visit to him -and his wife. - -[18] Daughter of A. L. O. E.’s brother, Mr. William Tucker. - -[19] Father and Mother of Mrs. St. G. Tucker. - -[20] As a curious instance of differing views, another relative, who -perhaps had had even better opportunities for judging, says: ‘_Not_ -sympathizing; most kind, but could not place herself in the position of -another.’ - -[21] One of the Zenana Missionaries at Amritsar. - -[22] Doubtless covered with snow. - -[23] In a letter of Mrs. H. B. Stowe is the following passage, referring -to Niagara:--‘I felt as if I could have gone over with the waters: it -would be so beautiful a death: there would be no fear in it.’--_Life of -H. B. Stowe_, p. 75, pub. 1889. - -[24] Missionary Ladies. - -[25] Show. - -[26] Honorary mode of address. - -[27] Pronounced _purdah_. - -[28] Pronounced _Punjāb_. - -[29] Pronounced _Umritsar_. - -[30] Her travelling companion from Bombay. - -[31] Considerable allowance here and elsewhere must be made for Miss -Tucker’s habit of seeing things as far as possible _couleur-de-rose_. -Large rooms in the Indian climate are, moreover, not a mere luxury, but a -necessity for health. - -[32] Teacher. - -[33] Pronounced _chuddars_. - -[34] The Rev. Robert Clark. - -[35] Mrs. Elmslie. - -[36] Teacher. - -[37] Sometimes she would take a week or ten days additional at some other -season in the year. - -[38] Many Missionaries live upon less than £155. See next page. - -[39] A pet name for Mrs. Elmslie. - -[40] Often spelt by English writers _doli_, _dooli_, or _dhooli_. -Pronounced, _dooly_. - -[41] A learned Hindu. Pronounced, _pundit_. - -[42] Adopted nephew, the Rev. Rowland Bateman. - -[43] Miss Wauton. - -[44] Watchman. - -[45] Padri Sadiq, Native Clergyman. - -[46] German Missionary at Amritsar. - -[47] Native bedstead. - -[48] Tailor. - -[49] Queen. - -[50] Carrying things with a high hand. - -[51] Miss Swainson. - -[52] Mrs. Elmslie and Miss Wauton were away for a few weeks in the Hills -with Miss Swainson. - -[53] This was an early stage. _Now_ the learned Pandit, K. S., is an -Ordained Clergyman. - -[54] ‘My brother.’ - -[55] Meaning ‘bud of a pomegranate.’ - -[56] A clockwork toy. - -[57] Connected with the Government. - -[58] Rough roads, unmade roads. - -[59] Duli-carrier. - -[60] Idle. - -[61] Flat cakes of bread. - -[62] Native song, or hymn set to Native tune. - -[63] Divinities. - -[64] A kind of post-chaise. - -[65] Bananas. - -[66] This, unhappily, proved later to be a mistaken estimate. - -[67] The Catechist. - -[68] The Rev. Rowland Bateman, just recovered from severe illness. - -[69] Cream-coloured dress worn at a Conference. - -[70] Precipice or ravine. - -[71] Founder of the Sikh religion. - -[72] Miss Tucker in this letter ascribes the said change to the work of -others; but there can be no doubt that her own influence had largely -contributed to bring it about. - -[73] Mrs. Elmslie was going home on furlough. - -[74] Mr. Bateman, Mr. Wade, Mr. Weitbrecht, Mr. Baring.... - -[75] Adopted son of the Rev. Robert Clark; afterwards known as Dr. H. M. -Clark.... - -[76] Lentils. - -[77] Bishop French. - -[78] ‘My Nephew’; term constantly used by A. L. O. E. for Mr. Baring. - -[79] President of the Zenana Society. - -[80] Grove of mango trees. - -[81] Not always perfect security. Instances have occurred, though seldom, -of Missionaries themselves being attacked and roughly handled on such -occasions. - -[82] Pronounced _Grunt_. - -[83] Teacher. - -[84] Bibi Singha. - -[85] Muhammadan teachers. - -[86] Not _all_ actually Batala converts; some having come from Amritsar, -in connection with the school, etc. - -[87] Threatened war with Afghanistan. - -[88] Though I speak in the past tense, the same terms apply to the -present. - -[89] Cotton mats. - -[90] Early breakfast. - -[91] Idle. - -[92] Hats. - -[93] Marylebone. - -[94] Native Bible-woman. - -[95] Custom. - -[96] The Bishop of Calcutta and the Bishop of Lahore. - -[97] Mrs. Hamilton’s house. - -[98] Native official. - -[99] Very low caste. - -[100] Water-carrier. - -[101] Watchman. - -[102] Washerman. - -[103] One of the boys. - -[104] This particular Faqir, Miss Tucker meant. - -[105] Some Native ladies. - -[106] Mrs. Hamilton’s gift. - -[107] A Native clergyman. - -[108] Sir Charles Aitcheson, the Lieutenant-Governor. - -[109] Naughty ones. - -[110] A young Native. - -[111] A leading Salvationist. - -[112] Sect of Muhammadans. - -[113] Advice to her sister to enter habitually, without delay, upon the -subject of religion with Indians. - -[114] Miss Swainson. - -[115] A young Indian Convert in England. - -[116] Country people. - -[117] This is a mistake. She was thirty-one. - -[118] A very untruthful woman. - -[119] The father of Mrs. St. George Tucker. - -[120] Dr. H. M. Clark. - -[121] Bishop Matthews. - -[122] Pedlar. - -[123] So named by the Natives. - -[124] Not the same as spoken of in earlier part of this letter. - -[125] More strictly, about one-twelfth of a penny. - -[126] Miss Tucker had become by this time less strict in her earlier rule -of never walking in the city. - -[127] Meaning, ‘Door closed against you.’ - -[128] Old woman. - -[129] True. - -[130] _i.e._ Down in the Plains. - -[131] It is not clear which of her severe illnesses is here referred to. - -[132] The Rev. Nobin Chanda Das, for years Native Pastor at Batala, and -Head-master of the Mission ‘Plough’ School. - -[133] Formerly ‘The Plough.’ - -[134] Narowal, the Station of the Rev. R. Bateman. - -[135] _The Giant-Killer_, by A. L. O. E. - -[136] Deprecating; meaning something sad, something to be repented of. - -[137] The sentence as to her tenth birthday, quoted page 13, comes in -here. - -[138] Mr. Bateman. - -[139] Chiefs. - -[140] Later, an adopted Nephew; see pp. 498-9. - -[141] This was a mistake. Mrs. Hamilton passed away on October 14; but -the telegram was not sent for several days, to permit certain letters to -arrive first. Miss Tucker failed to allow for this fact. - -[142] Missionary. - -[143] At Amritsar. - - - - -LIST OF PRINCIPAL BOOKS BY A. L. O. E. - -Published in England. - - - _s._ _d._ - - 1852. - - Claremont Tales, Gall & Inglis, 1 6 - - 1853-56. - - Glimpses of the Unseen, Gall & Inglis, 1 6 - True Heroism, Do. 0 6 - Life of Luther, Groom, 0 6 - Wings and Stings, Nelson & Sons, 0 6 - The Adopted Son, Gall & Inglis, 1 0 - The Giant-Killer, Nelson & Sons, 2 6 - The Young Pilgrim, Do. 3 6 - Angus Tarlton, Gall & Inglis, 0 6 - - 1857. - - Daybreak in Britain, Religious Tract Society, 1 0 - The Roby Family, Nelson & Sons, 2 6 - History of a Needle, Do. 1 6 - Rambles of a Rat, Do. 2 6 - - 1858. - - Flora, Nelson & Sons, 1 6 - The Mine, Do. 1 6 - Old Friends with New Faces, Do. 2 0 - Precepts in Practice, Do. 3 6 - Futteypore, S. P. C. K. - Cottage by the Stream, Gall & Inglis, 0 3 - Harry Dangerfield, Do. 0 6 - - 1859. - - Idols in the Heart, Nelson & Sons, 2 6 - Whispering Unseen, Do. 3 0 - The Lost Jewel, Shaw & Co., 3 6 - - 1860. - - Pride and his Prisoners, Nelson & Sons, 3 6 - Gain and Loss, Gall & Inglis, 0 3 - Parliament in the Playroom, Nelson & Sons, 1 6 - - 1861. - - Illustrations of Parables, Gall & Inglis, 3 6 - Shepherd of Bethlehem, Nelson & Sons, 3 6 - My Neighbour’s Shoes, Do. 1 6 - - 1862. - - War and Peace, Nelson & Sons, 2 6 - Light in the Robbers’ Cave, Do. 2 6 - Christian Love and Loyalty, Gall & Inglis, 2 6 - Christian Conquests, Do. 1 6 - - 1863. - - Pretty Present for Pets, Nelson & Sons, 1 0 - Silver Casket, Do. 2 6 - Sketch of History of the Jews, Do. 1 6 - Crown of Success, Do. 2 6 - - 1864. - - Exiles in Babylon, Nelson & Sons, 3 6 - Miracles of Heavenly Love, Do. 1 6 - Ned Franks, Gall & Inglis, 2 6 - - 1865. - - Rescued from Egypt, Nelson & Sons, 3 6 - Fairy Know-a-Bit, Do. 2 6 - - 1866. - - Wanderer in Africa, Gall & Inglis, 1 6 - Triumph over Midian, Nelson & Sons, 2 6 - - 1867. - - Sheer Off, Gall & Inglis, 2 6 - Hymns and Poems, Nelson & Sons, 2 6 - House Beautiful, Do. 2 0 - - 1868. - - Living Jewels, Hunt & Co., 2 6 - Castle of Carlmont, Nelson & Sons, 2 0 - On the Way, Do. 3 6 - Hebrew Heroes, Do. 3 6 - - 1869. - - The Golden Fleece, Nelson & Sons, 1 6 - Claudia, Do. 2 6 - Braid of Cords, Gall & Inglis, 2 0 - - 1870. - - Cyril Ashley, Nelson & Sons, 3 6 - Picture Story-Book, Do. 2 0 - - 1871. - - The Lady of Provence, Nelson & Sons, 2 6 - The Children’s Tabernacle, Shaw & Co., 3 6 - Wreath of Smoke, Gall & Inglis, 1 0 - Freedom, Do. 0 6 - - 1872. - - City of Nocross, Nelson & Sons, 2 6 - Silver Keys, Gall & Inglis, 2 6 - - 1874. - - An Eden in England, Gall & Inglis, 2 6 - The Spanish Cavalier, Nelson & Sons, 2 6 - - 1875. - - The Haunted Room, Nelson & Sons, 2 - Every Cloud has a Silver Lining; and - five other Little Books, Nelson & Sons, _each_ 0 6 - - 1879. - - A Wreath of Indian Stories, Nelson & Sons, 2 0 - - 1884. - - The White Bear’s Den, Gall & Inglis, 2 0 - Pearls of Wisdom, Morgan & Scott, 3 6 - - 1885. - - Harold Hartley, Gall & Inglis, 5 0 - - 1886. - - Pictures of St. Peter, Nelson & Sons, 5 0 - - 1887. - - Driven into Exile, Nelson & Sons, 3 0 - The Fairy in a Spider’s Web, Gall & Inglis, 2 6 - - 1888. - - The Hartley Brothers, Gall & Inglis, 2 6 - Harold’s Bride, Nelson & Sons, 2 6 - - 1889. - - Beyond the Dark Waters, Nelson & Sons, 3 0 - - 1890. - - The Blacksmith of Boniface Lane, Nelson & Sons, 3 0 - - 1891. - - The Iron Chain and the Golden, Nelson & Sons, 2 6 - - 1892. - - The Forlorn Hope, Nelson & Sons, 3 0 - -_N.B._--The prices given may not be always correct. - - - - -LIST OF SOME SMALL BOOKLETS BY A. L. O. E. - -Translated into Indian Languages, and published at very low prices. - - - Widows and the Bible. - The African Child. - The Fountain and the Cloud. - Let in the Daylight. - New Way of Eating Kelas (Plantains). - The Oldest Language of All. - The Rajah and his Servants. - The Rainbow. - The Brahmini Bull. - A Brahmin’s Story. - The Rebel. - Vessels of Gold. - The Bag of Treasure. - The Ploughshare. - The Intercessor. - Gift to the Caliph. - For Whom is This? - Story of Dr. Duff. - The Child Marriage. - The Flower of Young India. - Story of the Pink Chaddar. - The Precious Trust. - Trees to be Cut Down. - The Turban with a Border of Gold. - The Twice-Born. - Walayat Ali, the Martyr. - The Search after a Pearl. - Story of a Farmer. - Eight Pearls of Blessing. - Flowers and Fruits. - Gideon the Hero. - India’s People. - The Mirror and the Bracelet. - The Prophet and the Leper. - Spiritual and Physical Analogies. - Wreath of Stories. - The Two Pilgrims to Kashi; and Other Stories. - Jai Singh, the Brave Sikh; and Other Stories. - The Wonderful Medicine; and Other Stories. - Etc. etc. - - Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to Her Majesty - at the Edinburgh University Press - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Lady of England, by Agnes Giberne - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A LADY OF ENGLAND *** - -***** This file should be named 54218-0.txt or 54218-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/2/1/54218/ - -Produced by MWS and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from -images generously made available by The Internet -Archive/American Libraries.) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: A Lady of England - The Life and Letters of Charlotte Maria Tucker - -Author: Agnes Giberne - -Release Date: February 21, 2017 [EBook #54218] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A LADY OF ENGLAND *** - - - - -Produced by MWS and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from -images generously made available by The Internet -Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 440px;"> - -<img src="images/illus1.jpg" width="440" height="650" alt="" /> - -<p class="caption">C. M. Tucker from a Photograph taken at Toronto in 1875.</p> - -<p class="caption smaller">W. Notman Photo. Walker & Boutall, Ph.Sc.</p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[i]</a></span></p> - -<h1>A LADY OF ENGLAND</h1> - -<p class="titlepage larger"><i>THE LIFE AND LETTERS</i><br /> -<span class="smaller">OF</span><br /> -CHARLOTTE MARIA TUCKER</p> - -<p class="titlepage larger"><span class="smaller">BY</span><br /> -AGNES GIBERNE</p> - -<p class="center smaller">AUTHOR OF ‘SUN, MOON, AND STARS,’ ‘RADIANT SUNS,’ ETC.</p> - -<p class="titlepage">‘<i lang="la">Nil desperandum</i>’<br /> -Motto of the Tucker Family</p> - -<p class="titlepage">NEW YORK<br /> -A. C. ARMSTRONG & SON<br /> -51 EAST TENTH STREET<br /> -1895</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[ii]</a></span></p> - -<p class="titlepage smaller">Edinburgh: T. and A. <span class="smcap">Constable</span>, Printers to Her Majesty</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[iii]</a></span></p> - -<h2>AUTHOR’S PREFACE</h2> - -<p>The principal mass of materials for this Biography was -placed in my hands last summer by the Rev. W. F. Tucker -Hamilton, nephew of Charlotte Maria Tucker (A. L. O. E.), -and since then many other relatives or friends, both in -England and in India, have contributed their share of -help, either in the way of written recollections or of correspondence. -A paucity of materials exists as to the early -part of the life; but in later years the difficulty is of a -precisely opposite description, arising from a superabundance -of details. Hundreds of letters, more or less -interesting in themselves, have had to be put ruthlessly -aside, to make room for others of greater interest. From -first to last the long series between Charlotte Tucker -and her own especial sister-friend, Mrs. Hamilton, takes -precedence of all other letters in point of freedom, naturalness, -and simplicity. The perfect trust and unshadowed -devotion which subsisted between these two form a rare -and beautiful picture.</p> - -<p>It has seemed to me, and it may seem to others, that -the main question in the Life of Miss Tucker is, not so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a></span> -much what she <em>did</em> here or there, in England or in India, -as what she <em>was</em>. Many a discussion has taken place, and -doubtless will again take place, as to the wisdom of her -modes of Missionary work, and as to the degree of success -or non-success which attended her labours. I have -endeavoured to give fairly certain opposite views upon this -question, even while strongly impressed with the conviction -that no human being is capable of judging with -respect to the worth of work done in his own age and -generation. Subtle consequences, working below the surface, -are often far more weighty, far more lasting, than the -most approved ‘results’ following immediately upon -certain efforts,—results which are, not seldom, found after -a while to be of the nature of mere froth. Nothing can be -more unprofitable, usually, than the task of endeavouring -to ‘count conversions.’ It is of infinitely greater importance -to note with what absolute self-devotion Miss Tucker -entered into the toil, with what resolution she persevered -in the face of obstacles, with what eagerness she did the -very utmost within her power.</p> - -<p>In writing the story of Miss Tucker’s life at Batala, it -has been impossible not to write also, in some degree, the -story of the Infant Church at Batala. My main object -has of course been simply to show what Charlotte Maria -Tucker herself was; and Mission work, Mission incidents, -Missionaries themselves, come in merely incidentally, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span> -part of the background to her figure. Mention of them -is accidental and fragmentary; not systematic. At the -same time there is no doubt that nothing would have -gratified Miss Tucker more than that any use should have -been made of her letters likely to help forward the great -work of Missions among the Heathen. Some years -before the end, when in severe illness she thought herself -to be passing away, she spoke of the possibility that her -long correspondence about Batala might be so employed, -and earnestly hoped that, if it were so, no one-sided -account should be given, but that shadow as well as sunshine, -the dark as well as the bright aspect, should be -frankly presented. I have endeavoured to carry out her -wishes in this particular.</p> - -<p>It is to be regretted that at least a few letters from -Mrs. Hamilton to Miss Tucker cannot be interspersed -among the many from Miss Tucker to Mrs. Hamilton. -None, however, have come to hand. Before Miss Tucker -went to India she destroyed the bulk of her papers, -after a ruthless fashion; and it does not appear that -while in India she kept any of the letters that she -received.</p> - -<p>After some hesitation I have decided to give generally -the names in full of those Missionaries, with whom she -was most closely associated. I have also decided <em>not</em> -to give the names of Indian Christians, with very few<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span> -exceptions,—as of the Head Master of the Native Boys’ -School at Batala, whom she counted a personal friend; -also of one or two Ordained Native Clergymen, and one -or two contributors of slight material towards this <cite>Life</cite>. -In many instances it would be very difficult to decide -wisely at so great a distance, and without a knowledge of -the individuals themselves. It is therefore best to be on -the safe side. Many of the initials are the true initials; -but many are not even that,—especially in the case of -those who are still Heathen or Muhammadan.</p> - -<p>In the spelling of Indian words and names I have -endeavoured to follow mainly the more modern plan, -adopted of late years, except in the case of a very few -words which are practically Anglicised. Miss Tucker’s -own spelling of Indian words and names varies extremely; -the word being often given differently when occurring -twice in a single page. The spelling has therefore been -altered throughout her correspondence. To avoid confusion -in the minds of English readers, I have also taken -the same liberty with letters from some others who have -not adopted the modern mode.</p> - -<p>In conclusion, I have only to express my sincere thanks -for the most kind trouble taken by many friends of -A. L. O. E. in contributing materials for my guidance.</p> - -<p class="right">AGNES GIBERNE.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Worton House, Eastbourne.</span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span></p> - -<h2>PREFACE</h2> - -<p>It would scarcely be fitting that this Volume should go -forth to the Public without a few words of Preface from -one of A. L. O. E.’s own family.</p> - -<p>Only my beloved Mother—the ‘Laura’ of these pages—could -have penned the words which should adequately -tell all that my dear Aunt was to those who knew her -best and loved her most fondly. And <em>she</em>, little as she -had expected it, was the first of the two to be called -Home.</p> - -<p>It has, however, been a great satisfaction to me to -intrust the preparation of the <cite>Life</cite> to Miss Giberne; -and I am glad to have this opportunity of expressing -my hearty appreciation of the literary skill, the sympathy, -and the fidelity to truth with which she has accomplished -her task.</p> - -<p>Averse as my Aunt ever was to any fuss being made -about her, nothing would have reconciled her to the -publication of a Biography, save the hope that its story -might be used of God to stimulate others to consecrate -their lives to the Service of Christ, whether in the Foreign<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span> -or Home Mission Field. It is in such hope that it is -now sent forth, with the earnest prayer that <span class="smcap">His</span> blessing -may rest upon it.</p> - -<p class="right">W. F. TUCKER HAMILTON.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Christ Church, Woking.</span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Note.</span>—Any profits derived by A. L. O. E.’s -relatives from the publication of this volume will -be apportioned among those Missionary Societies -in which she was especially interested.</p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[ix]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table summary="Contents"> - <tr> - <td></td> - <td class="tdr smaller">PAGE</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2"><a href="#PART_I">PART I</a><br /> - LIFE IN ENGLAND</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER I</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>THE STORY OF HER FATHER</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#I_CHAPTER_I">3</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER II</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>CHILDHOOD AND GIRLHOOD</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#I_CHAPTER_II">13</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER III</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>EARLY WRITINGS</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#I_CHAPTER_III">27</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER IV</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>A ‘FARCE’ OF GIRLISH DAYS</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#I_CHAPTER_IV">39</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER V</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>HOME LIFE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#I_CHAPTER_V">62</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER VI</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>GRAVITY AND FUN</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#I_CHAPTER_VI">71</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER VII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>THE FIRST GREAT SORROW, AND THE FIRST BOOK</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#I_CHAPTER_VII">83</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER VIII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[x]</a></span>CRIMEA, AND THE INDIAN MUTINY</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#I_CHAPTER_VIII">100</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER IX</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>LIFE’S EARLY AFTERNOON</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#I_CHAPTER_IX">112</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER X</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>A HEAVY SHADOW</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#I_CHAPTER_X">126</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XI</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>GIVING COMFORT TO OTHERS</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#I_CHAPTER_XI">137</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>THE OLD HOME BROKEN UP</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#I_CHAPTER_XII">146</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XIII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>VARIOUS CHARACTERISTICS</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#I_CHAPTER_XIII">159</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XIV</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>AN UNEXPECTED RESOLVE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#I_CHAPTER_XIV">173</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XV</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>BESIDE NIAGARA</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#I_CHAPTER_XV">184</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2"><a href="#PART_I">PART II</a><br /> - LIFE IN INDIA</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER I</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>FIRST ARRIVAL IN INDIA</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II_CHAPTER_I">197</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER II</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[xi]</a></span>A HOME IN AMRITSAR</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II_CHAPTER_II">209</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER III</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>CURIOUS WAYS</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II_CHAPTER_III">224</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER IV</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>A PALACE FOR A HOME</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II_CHAPTER_IV">239</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER V</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>DISAPPOINTMENTS AND DELAYS</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II_CHAPTER_V">253</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER VI</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>A BROWN AND WHITE ‘HAPPY FAMILY’</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II_CHAPTER_VI">267</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER VII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>PERSECUTIONS</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II_CHAPTER_VII">282</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER VIII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>EARLY CHRISTIAN DAYS IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II_CHAPTER_VIII">299</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER IX</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>THE CHURCH AT BATALA</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II_CHAPTER_IX">318</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER X</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>LOYAL AND TRUE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II_CHAPTER_X">331</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XI</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>CLOUDS AFTER SUNSHINE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II_CHAPTER_XI">344</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>THE FIRST STONE OF BATALA CHURCH</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II_CHAPTER_XII">359</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XIII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[xii]</a></span>SOME OF A. L. O. E.’s POSSESSIONS</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II_CHAPTER_XIII">374</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XIV</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>ON THE RIVER’S BRINK</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II_CHAPTER_XIV">395</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XV</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>IN HARNESS ONCE MORE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II_CHAPTER_XV">410</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XVI</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>A VISIT FROM BISHOP FRENCH</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II_CHAPTER_XVI">427</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XVII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>THE DAILY ROUND</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II_CHAPTER_XVII">445</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XVIII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>IN OLD AGE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II_CHAPTER_XVIII">461</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XIX</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>LIGHT AT EVENTIDE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II_CHAPTER_XIX">475</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XX</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>THE LAST GREAT SORROW</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II_CHAPTER_XX">491</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXI</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>THE HOME-GOING</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II_CHAPTER_XXI">503</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>LIST OF PRINCIPAL BOOKS BY A. L. O. E.</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#BOOKS">515</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>LIST OF SOME SMALL BOOKLETS BY A. L. O. E.</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#BOOKLETS">519</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="PART_I">PART I<br /> -<span class="smaller">LIFE IN ENGLAND</span></h2> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p> - -<p class="noindent">‘Constant discipline in unnoticed ways, and the hidden spirit’s silent -unselfishness, becoming the hidden habit of the life, give to it its -true saintly beauty, and this is the result of care and lowly love in -little things. Perfection is attained most readily by this constancy -of religious faithfulness in all minor details of life, in the lines of -duty which fill up what remains to complete the likeness to our -<span class="smcap">Lord</span>, consecrating the daily efforts of self-forgetting love.’—<span class="smcap">T. T. -Carter.</span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="I_CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1771-1835<br /> -THE STORY OF HER FATHER</span></h3> - -<p>Charlotte Maria Tucker, known widely by her <i lang="fr">nom -de plume</i> of A. L. O. E.,—signifying A Lady Of England,—as -the successful author of numberless children’s books, -deserves to be yet more extensively known as the heroic -Pioneer of elderly and Honorary volunteers in the broad -Mission-fields of our Church.</p> - -<p>Her books, which were much read and appreciated in -the youth of the present middle-aged generation, may to -some extent have sunk into the background, as the works -of successive story-tellers do in the majority of cases retire, -each in turn, before newer names and newer styles; but -the splendid example set by Charlotte Tucker, at a time -of life when most people are intent upon retiring from -work, and taking if they may their ease,—an example of -<em>then</em> buckling on her armour afresh, and of entering upon -the toughest toil of all her busy life, will surely never be -forgotten.</p> - -<p>She was the sixth child and third daughter of Henry -St. George Tucker, a prominent Bengal Civilian, and, -later on, Chairman of the East India Company. All her -five brothers went to India, and all five were there in the -dark days of the Mutiny. Thus by birth she had a close -connection with that great eastern branch of the British -Empire, to which her last eighteen years were entirely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> -devoted. People in general go out early, and retire to -England for rest in old age. Miss Tucker spent fifty-four -active years in England, and then yielded her remaining -powers to the cause of our fellow-subjects in Hindustan.</p> - -<p>It seems desirable that a slight sketch of her father’s -earlier life should precede the story of hers.</p> - -<p>Henry St. George Tucker came into this world on the -15th of February 1771. He was born in the Bermudas, -on the Isle St. George, whence his name, and was the -eldest of ten children. An interesting reference to this -event is found in a letter of Charlotte Tucker’s, written -February 15, 1890: ‘As I went in my duli to villages -this morning, I thought, “One hundred and nineteen -years ago a precious Baby was born in a distant island”; -and I thanked God for our beloved and honoured Father.’</p> - -<p>Henry St. George’s father was a man of good descent, -of high reputation, and of a leading position in the islands. -His mother, a Miss Bruere before marriage,—probably the -name was a corruption of <i>Bruyere</i>,—was daughter of the -then governor of the Bermudas, a gallant old soldier, -possessing fourteen children and also a particularly -irascible temper.</p> - -<p>The elder Mr. Tucker appears to have been a man of -gentle temperament and liberal views; I do not mean -‘Liberal’ in the mere party sense, but liberal as opposed -to ‘illiberal.’ Whatever his own opinions may have been, -he did not endeavour to force them upon his children; he -did not, in fact, petrify the children’s little fancies by opposition -into a lasting existence. It is amusing to read of the -opposite tendencies among his boys, one taking the loyal side -and another the republican side in the dawning struggle -between England and her American Colonies. Long after, -Henry St. George spoke of himself as having then been ‘a -bit of a rebel’; adding, ‘But my republican zeal was very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> -much cooled by the French Revolution; and if a spark of -it had remained, our own most contemptible revolution of -1830 would have extinguished it, and have fixed me for -life a determined Conservative.’</p> - -<p>He had on the whole a strong constitution, though -counted delicate as a child; and his early life in the -Bermudas was one of abundant fresh air and exercise. -Much more time was given to riding and boating than to -books; indeed, his education seems hardly to have been -begun before the age of ten years, when he was sent to -school in England. Whether such a plan would answer -with the ordinary run of boys may well be doubted. -Henry St. George Tucker was not an ordinary boy; and -he showed no signs of loss in after-life through ten years -of play at the beginning of it.</p> - -<p>One piece of advice given to him by his mother, when he -was about to start for England, cannot but cause a smile. -She was at pains to assure him that it would be unnecessary -to take off his hat to every person whom he might meet -in the streets of London. Henry St. George, speaking of -this in later years, continues: ‘But habit is strong; and -even now, when I repair to the stables for my horse, I interchange -bows with the coachman and the ostlers and all -the little idle urchins whom I encounter in the mews.’ One -would have been sorry indeed to see so graceful a habit -altered. It might far better be imitated. Exceeding -courtesy was through life characteristic of the man, and it -descended in a marked degree upon many of his descendants, -notably so upon Charlotte Maria, the A. L. O. E. -of literature.</p> - -<p>School education, begun at ten, ended at fourteen. The -boy worked hard, and rose in his classes quickly; though -at an after period he spoke of his own learning in those -days as ‘superficial.’ He had been intended by his father -for the legal profession, and many years of hard work were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> -supposed to lie before him. These plans were unexpectedly -broken through. One of his aunts, who lived in England, -acting impulsively and without authority, altered the whole -course of his career. She asked him, ‘Would he like to -visit India?’ A more unnecessary question could hardly -have been put. What schoolboy of fourteen would <em>not</em> -‘like to visit India’? Young Henry seized upon the idea; -and the said aunt, under the impression that she was kindly -relieving his father of needless school expenses, actually -shipped the lad off as middy in a merchant vessel bound -for India, not waiting to write and ask his father’s permission. -She merely wrote to say that the deed was done.</p> - -<p>Officious aunts do exist in the world; but surely few so -officious as this. The deepest displeasure was felt and -shown when Henry’s father learned what had happened. -But by the time that his grieved remonstrances reached -the boy, Henry was fifteen thousand miles away, ‘hunting -wild animals on the plains of Behar.’ In the present day -a boy so despatched might be sent back again; but in -those days India was separated from England by a vast -gulf of distance and of time. Any one writing from India -to England could not look for a reply in less than a year; -and his father was at Bermuda, not even at home, which -made a further complication.</p> - -<p>The boy’s condition must at first have been forlorn -enough. After a petted and luxurious boyhood, he had to -live for months together upon salt junk; and his bed was -only a hencoop. But there was ‘stuff’ in him, and hardships -of all kinds were most pluckily endured. On landing -at Calcutta he found himself in a strange country, among -strange faces, without money and without work, though -happily not quite without friends. His mother’s brother, -Mr. Bruere, was one of the Government Secretaries in Calcutta; -and in the house of Mr. Bruere and of Mr. Bruere’s -pretty little sylph-like wife the young adventurer found<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> -shelter for some months, until an opening could be secured -for him.</p> - -<p>Fifteen years followed of a hard and continuous struggle. -As long after he said of himself, he ‘looked the world in -the face’ in those days; and while a mere boy of fifteen or -sixteen he set himself resolutely to get on. From the first he -grappled with the Native languages, showing a vigour and -persistency in the study which, many many years later, were -visible again in his daughter Charlotte, when grappling -with the very same task. Only he was young; and she, -when she followed his example, was well on in middle life.</p> - -<p>Towards the end of those fifteen years resolution and -untiring energy triumphed; and from the age of about -thirty Mr. Tucker’s rise to a good position was steady.</p> - -<p>In 1792 he became a member of the Bengal Civil Service. -In 1809 he was made Secretary in the Public -Department. But he had had heavy work and many -troubles, and his health began to fail; so the following -year, after a quarter of a century of unbroken exile, he -set off for England, carrying with him Government testimonials, -couched in the warmest terms. These testimonials -spoke of his ‘long and meritorious services,’ of his ‘peculiar -abilities,’ of his ‘talents and acquirements of the highest -order,’ of his ‘unwearied diligence,’ of his ‘unimpeached -integrity.’ All this, of one who, twenty-five years before, -had landed on Indian shores an almost penniless adventurer, -without so much as a definite plan of what to do -with himself and his energies!</p> - -<p>That very year he was engaged, and the year after he -was married, to Jane Boswell, daughter of a Mr. Robert -Boswell of Edinburgh, who was related to the well-known -biographer of Dr. Johnson. The Boswell family was known -to have first settled in Berwickshire as far back as in the -days of William Rufus, and afterwards in Fifeshire and Ayrshire -at Balmute and Auchinleck. Mr. Robert Boswell’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> -grandmother, Lady Elisabeth Bruce, was a daughter of -the first Earl of Kincardine. Mr. Boswell was a devotedly -good and also an able man; a minister, not in the Scottish -Presbyterian Church, but in some smaller religious body; -and his death took place in a somewhat tragic manner, -before the date of his daughter’s marriage to Mr. Tucker. -While preaching, he quoted the text which begins, ‘All -flesh is as grass——,’ and as he uttered the words he fell -back, dead!</p> - -<p>A characteristic anecdote is told of his wife,—A. L. O. E.’s -grandmother. She had a large family, and was badly off. -One day a poor woman applied to her for help; and Mrs. -Boswell called out to her daughter Jane, to know what -money they happened to have in hand. ‘Only one seven-shilling -piece,’ was the answer. Mrs. Boswell’s voice -sounded distinctly,—‘Give it, then; give it to the woman.’ -‘But, dear mamma, there is no more money in the house,’ -remonstrated Jane. More decisively still came the response, -‘Give it, then; give it to the woman.’ And given -it was. The story almost inevitably recalls that of the -Widow’s Mite; even though from certain points of view -one is dubious as to the wisdom of the act.</p> - -<p>Despite the poverty of the family Mrs. Boswell’s -daughters settled well in life. One married Mr. Egerton -of the High Court in Calcutta; one married Dr. Roxburgh; -one married General Carnegie; one married Mr. -Anderson; one only, Veronica by name, remained unmarried; -and Jane became the wife of Henry St. George -Tucker. She was at that time a gentle and beautiful girl of -about twenty-one, while Mr. Tucker was already over forty.</p> - -<p>Early in the following year, 1812, they went out to -India together; and his delight was great in returning to -the country where he had toiled so long, and had made -many friends. This time, however, his stay in the east -was to be brief.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> - -<p>His first child, Henry Carre, was born that same year; -and two years later came his eldest daughter, Sibella -Jane. Also in 1814 fell the blow of his Mother’s death, -over which, strong man that he was, he wept passionately. -Then his wife’s health seemed to be seriously failing; -and this decided him to leave the land of his adoption, -throwing up all prospects in that direction. In 1815, the -first year of European peace, at the age of forty-five, he -‘retired from the active service of the Company,’ travelling -by long sea with his invalid wife and his two little -ones, and spending some time at the Cape by the way. -Before they arrived in England another little one, Frances -Anne, had been added to their number.</p> - -<p>A home was found in Charlotte Square, Edinburgh; -and for some years, till 1819 or 1820, he was well content -to remain there, living a quiet home-life, with a little -family growing around him. Two more boys came, -George William and Robert Tudor,—the former dying in -babyhood, the latter growing up to be slain in the Indian -Mutiny. Losing the infant George was a dire trouble to -his parents; and Mrs. Tucker, believing that he had -succumbed to the keen cold of Edinburgh, was never at -rest in her mind until the northern home had been exchanged -for one in the south. Such a change was not to -be accomplished in a day, but in the course of time it -came about; and meanwhile the remaining children were -a constant source of interest and delight. The ‘baby’ at -this date was Robert; afterwards a very favourite elder -brother of A. L. O. E. His children, known in the family -by the name of ‘The Robins,’ became in later years as -her own.</p> - -<p>Mr. Tucker could not long remain contented without -definite work. He was still in the prime of life, still -under fifty; and an eager desire took hold of him to enter -public life once more, to serve again his own country, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> -well as the eastern land of his adoption. These purposes -he thought might best be carried out by his becoming, -if possible, one of the Directors of the East India -Company. For the fulfilment of his desire—a desire, -not for gain or wealth or position, but for the means of -doing good—he had to wait a considerable time. He -had indeed to wait until his next little daughter, <span class="smcap">Charlotte -Maria</span>, was five years old. Then, at length, he -was appointed Director; one of the Twenty-four who, in -those days, practically ruled India. Thereafter his influence -was steadfastly exerted in the direction of a wise -and righteous government of the dark millions of Hindustan; -the land in which he had spent a quarter of a -century of his life, and to which afterward not only all -his five sons went, but one of his five daughters also, in -the advanced years of her life.</p> - -<p>While he waited for this long-desired appointment, -other changes took place. They left their home in Edinburgh -and moved south, first spending some months at -Friern Hatch, in Barnet, near Finchley; and there it was -that little Charlotte first saw the light of day. In 1822 -they went to live in London, settling into No. 3 Upper -Portland Place, whence no further move was made until -after the death of Mrs. Tucker, more than forty-five years -later.</p> - -<p>In Portland Place the family was completed. Two -years after the birth of Charlotte came her next brother, -St. George; two years later still her next sister, Dorothea -Laura, her peculiar companion and friend. The three -youngest, William, Charlton, and Clara, finished the tale -of ten living children.</p> - -<p>Mr. Tucker was, as may have been already gathered, a -man of unusual force of character and of indomitable will; -robust in body and mind; unwearying in work; self-reliant, -yet never presumptuous; an absolute gentleman, remarkable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> -for the polished courtesy of his bearing, alike to -superiors, equals, and inferiors in social position; open -and straightforward as daylight; firm in his own convictions, -but well able to look on both sides of a question, -and liberal towards those who differed from him; entirely -fearless in doing what he held to be right, and entirely free -from all thought of self-seeking. He was, as his Biographer -Mr. Kaye observes,—‘pre-eminently a man -amongst men,’—‘a statesman at eighteen, and a statesman -at eighty.’ He was also a man of deep and true religion; -a religion not much expressed in words, but apparent -in every inch of his career. In a letter written long -after his death by his daughter Charlotte, she remarked, -when speaking of the biography of some well-known man: -‘There is nothing to indicate that he ever said, as our -beloved Father said, “The publican’s prayer is the prayer -of us all!”’ Probably religious speech never came easily -to him. His life, however, spoke more eloquently than -mere words could have done.</p> - -<p>One of his main characteristics was an abounding -generosity. He was always ready to help those who -needed help, up to his power, and beyond his power. In -his own home he was charming; full of wit, full of fun, full -of gay spirits and laughter; full also of the tenderest -affection for his wife and children, an affection which was -abundantly returned. He was an intensely loving and -lovable man; his wonderful sweetness and evenness of -temper, never disturbed by heavy work or pressing cares, -endearing him to all with whom he came in contact. -While he talked little of his own feelings, he did much for -the good of others; and his life was one long stretch of -usefulness. The union in him of strength with gentleness, -of a masterful intellect with a spirit of yielding courtesy, -of nobility with playfulness, of generosity with self-restraint, -of real religious conviction and experience with frolicsome<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> -gaiety, made a combination not more rare than -beautiful.</p> - -<p>Many of his characteristics were distinctly inherited from -him by his daughter Charlotte; among others, his literary -bent. He was fond of writing, and in his well-occupied -life he found some time to indulge the play of his fancy. -In the year 1835 he published a volume of plays and -enigmas, called <cite>The Tragedies of Harold and Camoens</cite>, -dedicated to the Duke of Wellington, for whom he and his -family had the deepest esteem and admiration.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="I_CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1821-1835<br /> -CHILDHOOD AND GIRLHOOD</span></h3> - -<p>Charlotte Maria Tucker was born on the 8th of -May 1821, not within the sound of Bow bells, but, as -already stated, at Friern Hatch, in Barnet, no long time -before the family settled down in Portland Place.</p> - -<p>Details of her very early life are greatly wanting. We -should like to know how the childish intellect began to -develop; what first turned her thoughts into the ‘writing -line’; whether authorship came to her spontaneously or -no. But few records have been kept.</p> - -<p>It is not indeed difficult to imagine the general character -of her childhood. She was clever, quick-witted, full -of fun, overflowing with energy, abounding in life and -vigour. One of a large and high-spirited family, living in -a home of comparative comfort and ease, and surrounded -by a wide circle of friends and acquaintances, Charlotte -must have had a happy childhood.</p> - -<p>Long years after, when old and wellnigh worn out with -her Indian campaign, she wrote—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘It seems curious to look back to the birthday sixty-one years ago, -when sweet Mother called me “her ten-years old.” Do you remember -my funny little cards of invitation to a feast of liquorice-wine,—with -possibly something else,—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“This is the eighth of May,</div> -<div class="verse">Charlotte’s Happy Birthday.”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘I would not change this time for that. What a proud ambitious -little creature I was! I have a pretty vivid recollection of my own -character in youth. I should have liked to climb high and be -famous.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>In another letter she alludes to the fact that as a child -she had been accused of ‘liking to ride her high horse.’</p> - -<p>No doubt in those early days her ambition pointed to -higher game than children’s tales written ‘with a purpose.’</p> - -<p>In the gay young family party, two daughters and two -sons were older than herself. Of the latter the nearest in -age was Robert, four years her senior, the future dying -hero of the Indian Mutiny. ‘Our noble Robert’ she calls -him long after; and there appears to have been an early -and close tie between Robert and his ambitious, eager -little sister. Of Fanny, too, the next sister above her in -age, two years older than Robert, she was particularly -fond. But <em>the</em> tie in her life which was most of all to her, -perhaps taking precedence of even her passionate love -for her Father, was the bond between herself and Laura, -the next youngest sister, about four years her junior. -From infancy to old age these two were one, loving each -other with an absolutely unbroken and unclouded devotion.</p> - -<p>The two were counted to some extent alike, though -with differences. Laura was the gentler, the more self-distrustful, -the more disposed to lean. Charlotte was the -more impulsive, the more eager, the more energetic, the -more independent, the more self-reliant. In fact, Charlotte -never did ‘lean’ upon anybody. Both were equally -full of spirits and of frolicsome fun.</p> - -<p>In another letter from India to this sister, dated January -18, 1886, when referring to a recent illness, she wrote—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘My memory is very acute. I thought lately that it was a great -shame that I never should go back to dear old No. 3, which really -was the happy home of our childhood before our griefs. So what do -you think, Laura dear, I did lately? I acted over in my mind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> -Christmas Day, as in the old times, when you and I were girls. I -do not think that I left out anything; our jumping on dearest -Mother’s bed; the new Silver;<a name="FNanchor_1" id="FNanchor_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> the Holly and the Mistletoe; -the Christmas Box; the choosing the gowns; the Cake, etc. Then -I went to Trinity Church; I heard the glorious old hymn, “High let -us swell triumphant notes.” It was such a nice meditation. Then -Aunt Anderson and her dear daughters came for dinner. Of course -Aunt had her little yellow sugar-plum box!’</p> - -</div> - -<p>It is a pretty and vivid description of the olden days in -that dear old home, always spoken of among themselves -as ‘Number Three,’ which she loved ardently to the last. -Charlotte’s affections for everything connected with her -youth were of a very enduring nature.</p> - -<p>Another short extract from her later letters may be -given here, describing something of what the loved -sister Laura was to her in those early days. It is dated -December 10, 1892.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘My Laura loved me so fondly; we were so close to each other. -How we used to share each other’s thoughts from youth, as we -shared the same room! Our honoured Father loved to hear his -Laura’s merry ringing laugh; when we chatted together he would -say to her favourite sister,’—meaning herself—‘“<em>She combines so -much.</em>” I doubt that he saw any imperfection in a being so bright, -so sweet.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>And in yet one more letter to this same Laura, dated -November 1, 1884—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘You underrate your own qualifications as a companion, darling. -Don’t I know you of old, how playful and genial you are, as well as -loving?... You are choice company for a <i lang="fr">tête-à-tête</i>.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The earliest writing of Charlotte’s which comes to hand -is indorsed, ‘Charlotte, 1832,’ and is addressed to ‘Miss<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> -D. L. Tucker, 3 Upper Portland Place.’ It is a valentine -written to her sister; and it shows that at the early age of -eleven she had at least begun a little versifying; usually -the line first adopted by incipient authors.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘The snow-drops sweet that grace the plain</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Are emblems, love, of you,</div> -<div class="verse">With innocence and beauty blest</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Pure as the morning dew.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘Sweet rosebud, free from every storm</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Of life, may peace incline</div> -<div class="verse">To hover ever round thy bed,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">My dearest Valentine.’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Another early effort, undated, but possibly a year or -two later, is addressed, ‘To Dolly, the sweet little bud of -the morn,’—no doubt to the same favourite sister, Dorothea -Laura.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘Sweet bud of the morning, what poet can speak</div> -<div class="verse indent2">The glories that beam in thy eye?</div> -<div class="verse">The rosebuds that bloom on thy fat little cheek,—</div> -<div class="verse">And thy round head so stuffed full of Latin and Greek,</div> -<div class="verse indent2">Arithmetic and Geology.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘I send you a character-teller, my love,</div> -<div class="verse indent2">’Tis little and poor, but it may</div> -<div class="verse">My kindness, affection, <i>etcetera</i>, prove,</div> -<div class="verse">And show you, my dear little Dolly, I strove</div> -<div class="verse indent2">To make mine a happy birthday.’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>What the ‘character-teller’ may have been it is difficult -even to conjecture. Since Laura was four years her -junior, the Latin, Greek and Geology were of course -meant in the symbolical sense, standing for learning in -general.</p> - -<p>One more apparently early effort remains; not this -time versification, but a birthday letter to Laura, inscribed, -‘To my dear Lady Emma, from her affectionate Tosti.’ -Why Lady Emma?—and why Tosti? In these three<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> -effusions the handwritings are curiously unlike one -another, though all are childish. One is large and unformed; -another is small and cramped; the third is neat -and of a copperplate description. It may be that her -writing was long before it crystallized into any definite -shape; often the case with many-sided people. But for -the juvenile handwriting, it would be almost impossible -to believe that the following middle-aged production was -not written in later years. Children were, however, in -those days taught to express themselves like grown -people; and no doubt she counted that she had accomplished -her task well.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘Many joyful returns of this day to you, dearest Laura, and may -each find you better and happier than the last. I send you a little -piece of velvet, which you may find useful, for I do not think you -will value a present only for the money it costs; and I dare say you -will agree with me that a <em>trifle</em> from an affectionate friend is often -more valuable than great gifts from those who love you not.</p> - -<p>‘I hope, dearest Lautie, you may enjoy <em>a very particularly</em> happy -birthday, and that you may have as few sorrows in the year you are -just entering as in that you have just passed.—Accept my kindest -love, and believe me to be</p> - -<p class="center">‘Your affectionate friend and sister,</p> - -<p class="right">‘C. M. T.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>This letter may have been some years later than the -two copies of verses; but that hardly does away with -the difficulty. The style is almost as pedantic for the age -of sixteen or seventeen as for the age of ten or twelve.</p> - -<p>Side by side with the intense devotion for her sister -Laura, there was a considerable degree of reticence in -Charlotte’s nature. It may have developed more fully as -time went on; yet it must surely have been a part of herself -even in childhood. It was not with her a superficial -reserve, an acted reticence, such as may sometimes be -seen in essentially shallow women. On the surface she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> -was free, frank, chatty, quick in response, ready to converse, -full of liveliness, fun, and repartee. But underlying -the freedom and brightness there was a habit of silence -about her own affairs—that is to say, about affairs which -concerned only and exclusively herself—which to some -extent was a life-long characteristic.</p> - -<p>Neither Charlotte nor any of her sisters ever went to -school. Their father had a very pronounced objection to -schools for girls; indeed, he had himself made an early -resolution never to marry any girl who had been educated -at school, and he kept that resolution. The same idea -was followed out with his own daughters. A daily governess -came in to superintend their studies; and occasional -masters were provided. In reference to the latter Charlotte -wrote, many years afterward, to a niece: ‘No one -can do as much for us in the way of education as we can -do for ourselves. A willing mind is like a steam-engine, -and carries one on famously. When I was young my -beloved parents did not feel able to give us many masters. -We knew that, and it made us more anxious to profit by -what we had.’</p> - -<p>Twenty-five years of hard toil in India had not made a -rich man of Mr. Tucker; nor did his position as a Director -bring him wealth. It was his daughter’s pride in after-life -to know that he had died comparatively poor, because -of his inviolable sense of honour. Not that more money -would not have been acceptable! Ten children, including -five sons, to be launched in life, are a serious -pull upon any purse of ordinary capacity; and Mr. Tucker -was of an essentially generous nature. He had many -relatives, many friends, and the demands upon his purse -were numerous. On a certain occasion he gave away -about <em>one-quarter of his whole capital</em>, a sum amounting to -several thousands of pounds, to help a relative in a great -emergency. One who met him immediately afterwards<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> -spoke of his appearing to have suddenly grown into an -old man.</p> - -<p>In Charlotte’s earlier years anxiety as to money matters -was often experienced; and recurring Christmastides saw -a repeated difficulty in making both ends meet. This state -of things continued up till about the year 1837, when an -unlooked-for legacy was left to Mr. Tucker, as a token of -great esteem, by a friend, Mr. Brough. Besides the main -legacy to Mr. and Mrs. Tucker, the sum of two hundred -pounds came to each of the children, and was treated as a -‘nest-egg’ for each. From this date serious pressure -ceased, and Mr. Tucker became able to meet the various -calls upon him; not indeed without care and economy, -but without a perpetual weight of uneasiness. Some few -years later another friend, Mr. Maclew, left another legacy -in the same kind and unexpected manner.</p> - -<p>These facts serve to explain the paucity of masters when -Charlotte was young. But the sisters bravely accepted -the condition of things, and worked hard to make up for -any disadvantages. One distinct gain in such a home -education was that at least they were free to develop -each in her own natural lines, instead of being all trimmed -as far as possible into one shape.</p> - -<p>Charlotte’s ‘lines’ were many in number.</p> - -<p>She had a marked talent for drawing, and could take -likenesses of her friends; good as regarded the salient -features, though apt to grow into more of caricatures than -the young artist intended. Musical gifts also were hers, -including an almost painfully sensitive ear. Though her -voice was never really very good, she sang much; and -while well able to take a second at sight, she was in after -years equally ready to undertake any other part in a glee, -inclusive of the bass, which often fell to her share when a -man’s voice happened to be lacking.</p> - -<p>A gift for teaching showed itself early; and as a child<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> -she would try to impress geographical facts upon her -younger brothers and sisters by an original system of her -own. In the Park Crescent Gardens, near Portland Place,—their -playground; described by one friend in those days -as a “jungle,” because of its unkempt condition,—she would -name one bed England, another France, another Germany, -and so on, and would thus fix in the children’s minds -their various positions, though the shapes and sizes of the -beds were by no means always what they ought to have -been. That the mode of instruction was effective is evident -from the fact that her brother, Mr. St. George Tucker, -can recall the lessons still, after the lapse of fifty years, -and can say, ‘By that means I learnt that England was in -the north-west corner of Europe.’</p> - -<p>Another direction in which she excelled was that of -dancing. Even in walking she possessed a peculiarly -springy step, remarked by all who knew her; and this in -dancing was a great advantage. She was at home alike -in the dignified minuet and in the active <i lang="fr">gavotte</i>, and she -would perform the <i lang="fr">pas de basque</i> with much spirit. Indeed -dancing was an exercise in which she found immense enjoyment -through half a century of life.</p> - -<p>At home Charlotte was a leader in the games, herself -flowing over with fun and frolic. Her fertile imagination -left her never at a loss for schemes of amusement. Naturally -eager, impulsive, vehement, she had from beginning -to end an extraordinary amount of energy, -and in childhood her vigour must have been almost untirable.</p> - -<p>One can imagine how the house echoed with the gay -voices and laughter of the young people, as they pursued -their various games, led by the indefatigable Charlotte. -Mr. Tucker loved the sound of those merry voices; and -when he could join them he was probably the merriest -of the whole party. At one period, heavy and long-continued<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> -work in ‘clearing up the finances’ of the East -India Company kept him much apart from the family -circle; and the delight was great when he could leave his -big dry books, and be as a boy among the children -again.</p> - -<p>Bella, the elder girl, was pretty and of gracious manners, -with dark eyes, and with a capacity for dressing herself -well upon the very moderate allowance which her father -was able to bestow. Fanny, the next sister, though not -at all handsome, had also soft dark eyes, and a peculiarly -sweet disposition; and she too dressed nicely. It was -commonly said amongst themselves that Fanny was ‘the -gentle sister,’ and that Charlotte was ‘the clever heroic -sister.’ But Charlotte was not gifted with the art of dressing -well.</p> - -<p>In those early days, and for many a year afterwards, it -would not appear that gentleness or sweetness were characteristics -belonging to Charlotte. They were of far later -growth, developing only under long pressure of loss and -trial. In her childhood and girlhood, though doubtless -she <em>could</em> be both winning and tender to the few whom -she intensely loved, yet it was impossible to describe her -generally by any such adjectives. She was chiefly remarkable -for her spring and energy, her originality and -cleverness, her wild spirits, and her lofty determination. -With all her liveliness, however, she was in no sense a -madcap, being thoroughly a lady.</p> - -<p>In appearance Charlotte was never good-looking; and -in girlhood she could not have been pretty; though there -was always an indescribable charm in the vivid life and -the ever-varying expression of her face.</p> - -<p>One friend remembers hearing her tell a story of her -young days, bearing upon this question of personal -appearance. With a mirror and a hand-glass she examined -her own face, the profile as well as the full face,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> -and evidently she was not satisfied with the result. A -wise resolution followed. Since she ‘could never be -pretty,’ she determined that she ‘would try to be good, -and to do all the good in the world that she could.’ It -was a resolve well carried out.</p> - -<p>This sounds like a curious echo of an early experience -of her father. When a boy of about ten, he caught smallpox, -and ‘came forth,’ as he related of himself long after, -‘most wofully disfigured.... “Well,” observed one of -my aunts, “you have now, Henry, lost all your good looks, -and you have nothing for it but to make yourself agreeable -by your manners and accomplishments.” Here was cold -comfort; but the words made an impression upon my -mind, and may possibly have had some influence on my -future life.’</p> - -<p>And much the same thought is reproduced in Charlotte -Tucker’s own clever and amusing little book, <cite>My Neighbour’s -Shoes</cite>,—when, as Archie gazes into the mirror, he -says of himself, ‘One thing is evident; as I can’t be -admired for my beauty, I must make myself liked in -some other way. I’ll be a jolly good-natured little -soul.’</p> - -<p>In girlish days it may have been a prominent idea with -Charlotte. By nature she not only was impulsive, but she -no doubt inherited some measure of her great-grandfather -Bruere’s irascible temper; and the amount of self-control -speedily developed by one of so impetuous a temperament -is remarkable. High principle had sway at a very early -age; but this thought, that her lack of good looks might -be compensated for by good humour and kindness to -others, may also have been a motive of considerable -power in the formation of her character.</p> - -<p>It must be added that not all thought so ill of her -looks as Charlotte herself did. An artist of repute, who -saw her in the later days of her Indian career, has said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> -unhesitatingly, in reply to a query on this subject,—‘Plain! -No! A face with such a look of intellect as -Miss Tucker’s could never be plain.’ If matters were -thus in old age, the same might surely have been said -when she was young. But beauty of feature she did not -possess.</p> - -<p>In addition to her other gifts, Charlotte had something -at least of dramatic power, and in her own home-circle -she was a spirited actress.</p> - -<p>Mr. Tucker’s published volume of plays and enigmas -has been already named. Both <cite>Harold</cite> and <cite>Camoens</cite> -were acted by the young folk of the family, with the rest -of their number for audience. It is uncertain whether any -outside friends were admitted on these occasions.</p> - -<p>In the second play Charlotte took the part of the -heroine, Theodora; and her brother, St. George, took the -part of Ferdinand. Camoens, the hero, is betrayed to the -Inquisition by Theodora; the betrayal being caused by a -fit of fierce jealousy on the part of Theodora, who loves, -and is apparently loved by, Camoens. The jealousy has -some foundation, since Camoens decides to marry, not -Theodora but Clara. Theodora in her wrath is helped -by another lover, Ferdinand, to carry out her plot, and -together they bring a false charge against Ferdinand, who -is speedily landed in the dungeons of the Inquisition. -Theodora then, finding that Clara does not love Camoens, -and repenting too late her deed, goes mad with remorse. -Camoens is after all set at liberty, none the worse for his -imprisonment; but the distracted Theodora, meeting her -other lover and her companion in evil-doing, Ferdinand, -attacks him vehemently, with these words—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘<span class="smcap">Theod.</span> Ha! Ferdinand!</div> -<div class="verse indent4">Thou hast recalled a name!</div> -<div class="verse indent4">It brings some dreadful recollections.</div> -<div class="verse indent4">’Twas he who basely did betray my husband.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> -<div class="verse indent4">Go, wretched man! bring back the murdered Camoens!</div> -<div class="verse indent4">Go, make thy peace. (<i>She stabs him.</i>)</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Bian. </span> Oh! help!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Ferd. </span> I bless the hand that gave the wound.</div> -<div class="verse indent4">Thou hast redeemed me from a deadly sin,</div> -<div class="verse indent4">Or mortal suffering.</div> -<div class="verse indent4">Farewell, beloved unhappy Theodora.</div> -<div class="verse indent4">Guard her, ye pitying angels!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Theod.</span> Where am I?</div> -<div class="verse indent4">What have I done?</div> -<div class="verse indent4">I have some strange impression of a dream—</div> -<div class="verse indent4">A fearful dream of death.</div> -<div class="verse indent4">Young Ferdinand, who loved me!</div> -<div class="verse indent4">Dead—dead—and by this desperate hand!’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>After which Clara enters, and Theodora dies, completing -the tragedy. One can picture the force and energy -with which Charlotte would have poured forth her reproaches -upon the head of Ferdinand, before giving him -the fatal stab.</p> - -<p>It may have been somewhere about this time—it was -at all events before the year 1842—that Charlotte had -once a scientific fit, and for several weeks threw herself -with ardour into the study of Chemistry. At intervals in -her life a marked interest is shown in certain scientific -facts or subjects; sufficient, perhaps, to indicate that, had -the bent been cultivated, she might possibly have shown -some measure of power in that direction also. Books on -Natural History always proved an attraction to her; and -many little Natural History facts come incidentally into -her correspondence, sometimes given from her own observation. -In later years she even wrote two or three -little books for children on semi-scientific subjects,—not -without making mistakes, from the common error of -trusting to old instead of to new authorities. But the -early influences with which she was surrounded were not -of a kind to call forth this tendency, if indeed it existed in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> -any but a very slight degree. Her Father’s bent was -strongly poetical and classical; and probably his influence -over her mind in girlhood was stronger than any other. -The poetic and the scientific may, and sometimes do, exist -side by side; but the combination is not very usual.</p> - -<p>A great event of Charlotte’s young days was the fancy-dress -ball given by her parents in the spring of 1835. -The Duke of Wellington himself was present; prominent -still in the minds of men as the Deliverer of Europe, only -twenty years earlier, from a tyrant’s thraldom. All the -young Tuckers, not to speak of their parents, were ardent -admirers of the Duke. Laura, still a mere child, in her -enthusiasm slipped close up behind, when the Duke was -ascending the stairs, and gently abstracted a fallen hair -from the shoulder of the hero, which hair she preserved -ever after among her choicest treasures; and Charlotte -was no whit behind Laura in this devotion.</p> - -<p>At the ball Frances made her appearance dressed as -Queen Elizabeth,—‘very neat and very stately,’—while -Charlotte represented ‘the star of the morning,’ in a dress -of pure muslin, full and well starched, so nicely made and -so beautifully white that the impression of it lasts still in -the mind of a brother, after the lapse of more than half a -century. The prettiness of her dress on that particular -occasion was no doubt accentuated by the fact that in -general Charlotte did <em>not</em> attire herself becomingly; and -also by the fact of another young lady being present as a -second ‘star of the morning.’ For the other ‘star’ had -hired a dress for the evening; a muslin dress, which -was by no means white, but dingy and tumbled. In -contrast, Charlotte’s pure whiteness, relieved by a star -upon her forehead, drew much attention. Since she was -then only a girl of about fourteen, it appears that a close -distinction was not drawn in those days, as in these, -between girls ‘out’ and girls ‘not out.’ Her brother, St.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> -George, a boy of twelve or thirteen, was also present, -wearing a Highland costume.</p> - -<p>The hero of the day appeared in evening dress, according -to the then fashion, with a star on his breast. Frances, -in her queenly apparel, presented him with a bag which -contained a Commission to defend England,—a business -which, one is disposed to think, he had already pretty -well accomplished! The Duke received this offering -graciously; and a day or two later the following playful -letter arrived from him to Mr. Tucker:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Strathfieldsaye.</span><br /> -<i>Ap. 26, 1835.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">‘My dear Sir</span>,—When Queen Elizabeth gave me that beautiful -bag on Friday night, I was not aware that it contained a Letter -Patent which I prize highly; and for which I ought to have returned -my grateful acknowledgment at the time it was delivered.</p> - -<p>‘I beg you to present my thanks; and to express my hopes that -her Majesty continued to enjoy the pleasures of the evening; and -that she has not been fatigued by them.</p> - -<p>‘Ever, my dear Sir,</p> - -<p class="center">‘Your most faithful humble servant,</p> - -<p class="right">(Signed) ‘<span class="smcap">Wellington</span>.</p> - -<p>‘H. St. George Tucker, Esq., etc.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The delight and enthusiasm amongst the young people, -aroused by this letter, may be imagined. It seems to have -come later into the possession of Charlotte; and when -she went to India it was presented by her to her sister -Laura,—the envelope which contained it having in -Charlotte’s handwriting the following inscription:—</p> - -<p>‘<i>What I consider one of my most valuable possessions, -and therefore send to my beloved Laura, to whom it will -recall past days.</i>’</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="I_CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1835-1848<br /> -EARLY WRITINGS</span></h3> - -<p>One after another the brothers of Charlotte went out to -India. Henry Carre, the eldest, well known in Indian -story, had left in 1831, when she was only ten years old; -and in 1835 her particular companion, Robert, went also. -He was a tall, handsome young fellow; and though only -eighteen years old, he had already done well in his -studies. At Haileybury his remarkable abilities won him -the admiration of the Professors; and at his last examination -for the Civil Service he signalised himself by actually -carrying off <em>four</em> gold medals.</p> - -<p>Among other gifts he had a keen touch of satire, and a -power of easy versification. Some of the early verses -preserved show considerable power, and are very spirited -as well as amusing. A main feature of his character was, -however, his intense earnestness. He was of the same -stern and heroic cast of mind as Charlotte herself; with -perhaps less fun and sparkle to lighten the sternness. -Like her, he was markedly self-reliant, and was never -known to lean upon the opinion of others.</p> - -<p>With all Charlotte’s gaiety and merriment, her delight -in dancing and acting, and her love of games, there was a -stern side, even in those early days, to her girlish nature; -and in this respect she and Robert were well suited the -one to the other. She was, as one says who knew her well,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> -‘a born heroine’; indeed, both she and Robert were of the -stuff of which in former centuries martyrs have been made.</p> - -<p>At what date Charlotte first began to think seriously -upon religious questions it is not possible to say. Probably -at a very early age. Underlying her high spirits was a -stratum of deep thought; and strong principle seems -almost from the beginning to have held control over her -life. One of her brothers speaks of her as ‘always -religious.’ She may have thought and may have felt to -any extent, without expression in words of what she -thought or felt. The innate reticence, which veiled so -much of herself from others, would naturally in early -years extend itself to matters of religion. Later in life -reserve broke down in that direction; but silence in girlhood -was no proof whatever of indifference.</p> - -<p>An undated letter to her niece, Miss Laura Veronica -Tucker, written in middle life, gives us something of a -clue here.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I am much interested in hearing from your dear Mother that -you are so soon to take upon you the vows made for you in Baptism, -and I wish specially to remember you, my love, in prayer on -the 18th.</p> - -<p>‘To-morrow, too, you attain the age of fifteen.... I was about -your age, dear Laura, when the feeling of being His—of indeed -having the Saviour as <em>my own</em> Saviour, came upon me like a flood -of daylight. I was so happy! This was a little time before my -Confirmation. Though I have often often done wrong since, and -shed many many tears, I have never <em>quite</em> lost the light shed on me -then, and now it brightens all the future, so that I can scarcely say -that I have any care as regards myself—the Lord will take care of -me in advancing age—in the last sickness—in what is called death, -(it is only its shadow).’</p> - -</div> - -<p>To the majority of people religious conviction and -experience come as daylight comes; not in one sudden -burst, but gradually, heralded by grey dawn, slowly unfolding -into brightness. Brought up as Charlotte was in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> -an atmosphere of kindness, of gentleness, of unselfish -thought for others, of generosity, of high principle, and of -most real religion, albeit not much talked about, she -would naturally imbibe the latter almost unconsciously, -and as naturally would say little. The spiritual life, -begun early in her, would expand and develop year -by year, as fresh influences came, each in turn helping -to shape the young ardent nature.</p> - -<p>She was essentially independent; one who would of -necessity think questions out for herself, and form her -own opinions; and when an opinion was once formed, -she would act in accordance with that opinion, fearlessly -and conscientiously. All this came as a logical result of -what she was in herself. But the very independence -was of gradual growth; and side by side with it existed -always a spirit of beautiful and reverent submission to -her Father and Mother.</p> - -<p>Although she never published anything during her -Father’s lifetime—whether because she was slow to -recognise her own capabilities, or because he failed to -encourage the idea, does not distinctly appear,—her pen -was often busy. A small magazine or serial in manuscript, -for family use, was early started among the brothers and -sisters, and to this, as might be expected, Charlotte was a -frequent contributor.</p> - -<p>She also wrote several plays, following in her Father’s -footsteps; and some of these are extant, not <em>written</em> but -exquisitely printed by her own hand. She was indeed an -adept at such printing, as at many other things; and -one amusing story is told anent this particular gift. -About 1840, when her brother St. George was at Haileybury -College, the latter wrote an essay, which was copied -for him by Charlotte in small printed characters. Whereupon -a rumour went through the College that one of -the competitors had actually had his essay printed for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> -the occasion. Inquiries were made; and the ‘printed copy’ -was discovered to be the essay of Mr. St. George Tucker.</p> - -<p>The earliest in date of these unpublished plays, composed -for the entertainment of the home-circle, appears to -have been <cite>The Iron Mask</cite>; achieved in 1839, when Charlotte -was about eighteen years old. It was ‘Dedicated, -with the fondest esteem and affection, to her beloved -Father, Henry St. George Tucker, to whom she is indebted -for the outline of the characters and plot, by the Author, -Charlotte Maria Tucker.’ By which Dedication may be -plainly seen that Mr. Tucker encouraged his daughter’s -literary bent, so far as actual writing went, though he does -not seem to have helped her into print. The Preface to this -early work is quaint enough to be worth quoting. The -young Author had evidently studied Miss Edgeworth’s -style.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I cannot pretend to offer that most common excuse of Authors -that their works have been written in great haste and consequently -under great disadvantages. I have been a considerable time about -my little performance, and its defects are not owing to want of care -or attention on my part.</p> - -<p>‘I once had thoughts of myself writing a Critique on <cite>The Iron -Mask</cite>, to show that I am sensible of its faults, though I do not think -I have <em>the power</em> to remove at least all of them. But I have dropped -the idea, and am determined to leave them to be found out, or -perhaps overlooked, by the eye of partiality and affection.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The play is, of course, historical, and is of considerable -length. One short quotation may be given as a specimen -of her girlish powers, taken from Scene <span class="smcapuc">II.</span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">‘<i>Apartment in the Castle of Chateaurouge: a grated window -seen in the background.</i></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p class="center">The Iron Mask.</p> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘The glorious Sun hath reached the farthest west,</div> -<div class="verse">And clouds transparent tipt with living fire</div> -<div class="verse">Hang o’er his glory, bright’ning to the close.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> -<div class="verse">Now gently-falling dews refresh the earth,</div> -<div class="verse">And pensive Silence, hand in hand with Night,</div> -<div class="verse">Already claims her reign.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse indent12">Another day</div> -<div class="verse">Has past! another weary weary day,</div> -<div class="verse">And I am so much nearer to my grave!</div> -<div class="verse">Oh that I could, like yon broad setting Sun,</div> -<div class="verse">For one day tread the path of Liberty,</div> -<div class="verse">For one day shine a blessing to my Country,</div> -<div class="verse">Then, like him, set in glory!</div> -<div class="verse">Still come they not?—then Chateaurouge deceived me!</div> -<div class="verse">He said e’er sunset that they must be here,</div> -<div class="verse">And I have watched from the first blush of morn,</div> -<div class="verse">Before the lark his cheerful matins sung,</div> -<div class="verse">Before the glorious traveller of the skies</div> -<div class="verse">Had with one ray of gold illumed the east,</div> -<div class="verse">And still they come not!—’Tis in vain to watch,</div> -<div class="verse">They will not come to-night!—my sinking heart</div> -<div class="verse">For one day more must sicken in suspense.’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -</div> - -<p>The writing of the play as a whole is unequal,—what -girl of eighteen is not unequal?—but in these lines,as well -as elsewhere, there are tokens of genuine power, alike -poetical and dramatic.</p> - -<p>Next came, in the year 1840, <cite>The Fatal Vow; a -Tragedy in Three Acts</cite>; on the title-page of which is -found a dedication—‘To Jane Tucker; the Mother who -in the bloom of youth and beauty devoted herself to her -children, and whose tender care can never by them be -repaid.’ The play was written in less than two months; -its scene being laid in Arabia, while the characters are of -Arabian nationality. It is an ambitious and spirited effort -for a girl under twenty.</p> - -<p>Two years later she wrote another, <cite>The Pretender; a -Farce in Two Acts</cite>; respectfully dedicated to ‘Fair -Isabella, the Flower of the East.’ This witty and amusing -little farce shall be given entire in the next chapter, as a -fair example of what she was able to accomplish at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> -age of twenty-one. It also shows conclusively her love of -fun, and the manner in which she delighted in any play -upon words.</p> - -<p>In 1842, the same year which saw her produce <cite>The Pretender</cite>, -her brother St. George went out to India; and two -years later a paper of extracts from different letters, in her -handwriting, records the sister’s loving pride in the warm -opinions sent home about that brother. Also the same -paper contains an account of an affair in which he was -engaged; but the said account not being correct in all -details, I give it in different words.</p> - -<p>In 1844, one year and a quarter after the arrival of Mr. -St. George Tucker in India, he volunteered to assist his -joint magistrate, Mr. Robert Thornhill, to capture the -celebrated dacoit,<a name="FNanchor_2" id="FNanchor_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> Khansah. Upon the receipt of further -orders from his chief magistrate, Mr. Thornhill decided -not to make the attempt. Mr. Tucker, however, having -volunteered, thought it was his duty to go; and go he -did, accompanied by a Thannadar,<a name="FNanchor_3" id="FNanchor_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> four horsemen, and -some Burkandahs. On a January morning, in early -dawn, they reached the village in which the dacoit leader, -Khansah, was supposed to be concealed; and after many -inquiries they induced an alarmed little native boy to -point out silently which hut sheltered Khansah.</p> - -<p>Leaving the horsemen and the Burkandahs outside, Mr. -Tucker and the Thannadar went into the courtyard of the -house. In the darkness of the entry to one of the huts -stood Khansah, holding a loaded blunderbuss. At first -he was unperceived; but suddenly the Thannadar exclaimed, -‘There he is!’ and as Mr. Tucker turned to the -right, Khansah fired off the blunderbuss. The Thannadar -dropped dead; and Mr. Tucker’s right arm fell helpless, -from a wound in the shoulder. He climbed quickly over -the low walls of a roofless hut, then turned about, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> -with his left hand steadying the right hand on the top of -the outer wall, he fired his pistol at the dacoit,—and -missed him. Mr. Tucker then went round the back of -the hut to a tree which stood near the entrance; and -shortly afterward Khansah came out, calling—‘Kill the -Sahib!’ A struggle followed between Khansah and one -of the native police, which lasted some three or four -minutes. Then Khansah, having apparently had enough, -made away on the Thannadar’s pony; and Mr. Tucker, -regaining his own horse, rode back to the station, accompanied -by the Burkandahs and horsemen, who had carefully -kept in the background when most needed, but whose -courage returned so soon as the peril was over.</p> - -<p>Eighteen months later an offer was made by Government -of ten thousand rupees to any one who should give up -Khansah,—the dacoit being a very notorious robber and -murderer. His own relatives responded promptly to this -appeal, and Khansah speedily found himself in durance -vile. Mr. Tucker failed to identify the man in Court; -but other evidence was forthcoming, and Khansah, being -convicted, was hung. Charlotte, when noting down particulars -of the above stirring episode, observes: ‘We -cannot feel too thankful to a merciful God for my precious -George’s preservation.’ The brief account which she -copied out from the letter of a friend in India ends -with these words: ‘My husband tells me he (Mr. -Tucker) acted with great spirit, and showed much cool, -determined courage, and deserved great credit; but from -being almost a stranger to the habits of this country, he -failed in his attempt to capture the dacoit.’</p> - -<p>Another paper of copied extracts has a particular interest, -because it seems to show, even then, a dawning sense -in the mind of Charlotte Tucker of the needs of heathen -and semi-heathen lands. The sheet is dated 1844; and -the passages are selected from a book of the day, called<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> -<cite>Savage Life and Scenes</cite>. But probably at that period -nothing was further from her dreams than that she herself -would ever go out as a missionary to the East.</p> - -<p>The following undated letters belong to the years 1846-7. -A little sentence in the first, as to the solution of Mr. -Tucker’s enigma, is very characteristic of one who through -life was always peculiarly ready to give praise to others.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS D. LAURA TUCKER.</p> - -<p>‘How sweet, good, and kind you are! I hardly know how to -thank you and dearest Mother for <em>such</em> notes as I have received from -both, but I truly feel your kindness at my heart....</p> - -<p>‘My eye is exceedingly improved. Such a fuss has been made -about it here by my affectionate Fannies, that one might suppose -that, like your friend Polyphemus, I had but one eye, and that as -rudely treated as was his by Ulysses.</p> - -<p>‘We think that the solution of my noble Father’s enigma is -“Glass” or “Mirror.” Fanny was the first to imagine this. As for -going to Gresford the 3rd of next month, I do not wish to be one -of the party at all, at all! I calculate that Robin will then have been -on the waves 76 days; and though I do not expect him till October, -the S—— <em>may</em> be a fast sailer, and fast sailers <em>have</em> accomplished -the whole voyage in about that time, I believe. I drink the port -wine which Papa brought down, which I hope may serve instead of -bark.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS SIBELLA J. TUCKER.</p> - -<p>‘Having concluded my reading of old Russell, how can I do better -than employ the interval before the arrival of the Indian letters in -sitting down and writing to my fair absent sister? Colonel Sykes -let me know last night that Robin would not come by <em>this</em> mail, -which was, he says, only from Bombay, so that letters being all we -must expect before Saturday fortnight, you need not hurry home on -account of Robin’s return.</p> - -<p>‘Now doubtless you would like to hear a little how the world in -Portland Place has been going on since your fair countenance disappeared -from our horizon. In the first place <em>all</em> the three Misses -—— are coming. A comical party we shall have! There has been -no letter from Lord Metcalfe yet, that I know of. We had a very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> -nice evening yesterday. I wish that yours may have been equally -agreeable. The beginning was by no means the worst part of it. I -dressed early, and while Mamma and Fanny were upstairs, Charlie -and I enjoyed quite a stream of melody from my dear Father, who -sang us more than twenty songs, most of which I had never heard -before. I wonder that he did not sing his throat quite dry, particularly -after a Wednesday’s work. I must now write Lautie an -account of the Ball.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS D. L. TUCKER.</p> - -<p>‘Well, dearest Lautie, we had a nice Ball last night. There were -the Vukeels of S——, with their dark intelligent countenances, -Colonel Sykes, your friend, who is really becoming quite a friend of -mine, and honest, handsome Sir Henry Pottinger, the very look of -whom does one good. I chatted with both the latter amusing -gentlemen, and heard from Sir Henry a circumstantial account of -his attack of gout, when, he said: “I felt as though I could have -roared like a bull.” Sir Henry thinks that ladies should have a glass -of champagne after <em>every</em> dance, quadrille, waltz, or polka! “You -would see,” said he, “if my plan were followed, how many ladies -would come.” ... Papa has had applications for cadetships from -Lord Jocelyn and H—— T——. I suppose that in both cases it -will be, “I wish you may get it!”’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p>‘We have had such an amusing breakfast. Lord Glenelg was -here. And he and Mamma have been making us laugh so,—he with -his quiet jokes, and dear Mamma with her <i lang="fr">naïveté</i>. Mamma very -freely criticised Sir R. Peel’s and Lord John Russell’s manner of -speaking, to the great amusement of our guest, who threw out a hint -that he might inform, and that Mamma had compromised herself. -“It would be rather awkward,” he observed, “if I were to sit -beside Sir Robert this evening,<a name="FNanchor_4" id="FNanchor_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> after what has passed”; and when -he heard that Sir Robert was not to be present, he hinted that -Mamma was in the same danger in regard to Lord John Russell. -“But if I tell him that he opens his mouth too wide,” said Lord -Glenelg, “he may think I mean that he eats too much!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘I am sure that our guest enjoyed his morning’s gossip, and it -gave us all a merry commencement to what I hope may be a very -enjoyable though rather anxious day. Tudor is to take luncheon -with us, so we have amusement provided for that meal also; and -what a business it will be in the evening! Such a phalanx of -ladies as dear Mother is to head. The Misses Cotton, two Misses -Galloway, two Misses Shepherd, Miss Kensington, and our three -selves, all to set off from No. 3! It will look like a nocturnal -wedding.</p> - -<p>‘I have just come in from paying a round of visits, with a card of -admission in my hand.... My hand trembles with the heat, for it -is warm walking at this hour, and I always walk fast when I walk -in the streets alone. I look forward with much pleasure to the -evening’s entertainment. I only wish that you and dear Bella -could enjoy it too; but I hope that <em>your</em> dinner in September -may afford you as much gratification as this would have -done....</p> - -<p>‘We ... went to Mrs. Bellasis’ Ball last night. Mamma and I -thought it a nice one, but —— considered it very dull. The Eastwicks -were not there, but your friend, Colonel Sykes, appeared, with -his stern bandit-like countenance. He so reminds me of you! His -fair lady and sons were also there.... Sir de Lacy and Lady Evans, -the Hinxmans and Galloways were also at the Ball.</p> - -<p>‘How are the dear little Robins? I hope that we may soon have -them with us again. Pray give them plenty of kisses from Auntie -Charlotte.... I hope dear Robin got home comfortably.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Some of the above-mentioned names were of men well -and widely known. Lord Metcalfe, at one time Acting -Governor-General of India, was a wise and most courteous -Indian statesman, whose life has been written by Sir John -Kaye. Colonel Sykes was one year Chairman of the -Court of Directors. Sir Henry Pottinger was a famous -diplomatist. Lord Glenelg, living near, was often in and -out, and loved to have a cup of tea at hospitable No. 3.</p> - -<p>The habit of the family at this time, while spending the -main part of the year at Portland Place, was to go to some -country place in the summer, for several weeks, sometimes -renting a house where they could stay all together, sometimes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> -breaking into smaller parties. In 1846 they were -at Herne Bay; in 1847 at Gresford; in 1848 at Dover and -Walmer. While at Walmer they were a good deal thrown -with the Duke of Wellington, and the former acquaintanceship -ripened into more of intimacy. Before deciding on -Walmer, two or three of the party went to Dover, and they -had a somewhat perilous voyage thither, to which the -following letter makes allusion:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS D. LAURA TUCKER.</p> - -<p>‘I hope that you will all write us very affectionate letters of congratulation -on our escape from the waves. How talented it was in -Mamma to manage to send us letters so soon! We had no idea of -hearing from home by 6 o’clock on Monday morning. We are all -quite well. I was not well yesterday morning,—I imagine from the -effects of our adventure; but I am, like the rest of our dear party, -quite well to-day.</p> - -<p>‘We are to set out in a pony-chaise for Walmer, to see about a -house. Papa is to drive, and I have no doubt but that we shall have -a delightful little excursion.</p> - -<p>‘The immense cliff is a great objection to Dover. Unless we -undergo the great fatigue of getting up it, we should be quite -prisoners. Walmer is <em>much</em> flatter. We are anxious to hear what -has become of the poor <i>Emerald</i>. She landed us here on Saturday -morning, and proceeded on her perilous journey at about five in the -afternoon. Papa saw the carpenter’s wife, who told him that the -leak could not be got at because of the coals, that they would not get -to Boulogne, but must return in two hours. The poor woman’s -husband was in the vessel. She said that her eyes were tired with -looking at the steamer, but philosophically observed that those who -are doomed to sup salt water must sup it. The <i>Emerald</i> has <em>not</em> -returned, however. It is probable that she has put in to some other -port. I should like to hear about her fate. I should feel for our kind -sailor.</p> - -<p>‘My darling Papa has rather taken fright at Mamma’s letter. He -fears that she is not well, that she has been hysterical at the thought -of our danger, and seems anxious to go up to London himself, in -order to assist her and see about her. Fanny and I expostulate. He -is the best of husbands and fathers. I hope, however, that dearest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> -Mamma is <em>not</em> unwell, and that the sea-air may do her good and -strengthen her. Another objection to Dover is that the voyage is -likely to be rougher to it than to Walmer. Walmer is not situated -so near that terrible South Foreland.... This is Papa’s opinion, but -we cannot decide till we see Walmer.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Further particulars of the adventure alluded to are -unfortunately not forthcoming.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="I_CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV<br /> -<span class="smaller">A FARCE OF GIRLISH DAYS</span></h3> - -<h4>THE PRETENDER;<br /> -<span class="smcap">A FARCE IN TWO ACTS</span>; by <span class="smcap">Charlotte Maria Tucker</span>.</h4> - -<p><i>Characters</i>:—</p> - -<ul> -<li><span class="smcap">Colonel Stumpley.</span></li> -<li><span class="smcap">Charles.</span></li> -<li><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span></li> -<li><span class="smcap">Corporal Catchup.</span></li> -<li><span class="smcap">Weasel</span>—A Butler.</li> -<li><span class="smcap">O’Shannon</span>—A Soldier.</li> -<li><span class="smcap">Mrs. Judith Rattleton.</span></li> -<li><span class="smcap">Miss Sophia Rattleton.</span></li> -<li><span class="smcap">Miss Barbara Rattleton.</span></li> -<li><span class="smcap">Miss Horatia Rattleton.</span></li> -</ul> - -<p class="center"><i>Scene laid in Northumberland, in and near the house of Mrs. -Judith.</i></p> - -<h5>ACT I.</h5> - -<h6>SCENE I.<br /> -THE HIGHROAD BEFORE MRS. JUDITH’S HOUSE.</h6> - -<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Charles</span>.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> A cold, wet, and misty evening, and above all to one -whose pockets are not lined! My foolish fancy for the Stage has -brought me to a declining stage, if not a stage of decline. Heigh -ho! how dark it is getting! Just the sort of place to meet with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> -ghost of Hamlet, not the sort of hamlet that I’m looking after, for I -have done with theatrical effects,—I wish that I had done with the -effects of cold. How dark and gloomy that church steeple looks over -the trees! I’m close to a churchyard, I suppose. And—ey! ey! -what on earth are those white things upon the grass? Clothes put out -to dry; what an ass I was not to see that before! but fasting makes -one nervous. There’s a house. How cheerful the lights look in it! -I hear the sound of a piano going. There must be ladies there, and -ladies are ever good and kind. What if I were to try my fortune at -the door? My poor namesake Prince Charlie must have put -wanderers into fashion. Northumberland is near enough to Scotland -to have imbibed a little of its spirit of romance. Poor Prince! we are -fellows in misfortune as we were partners in ambition. We both -sought to play the King, I on the boards, he in Britain; but his -frea-king and my moc-king are both changed to aching on the moors, -and a skul-king too, which makes us as thin as skeletons. I’ll try -and muster up courage for a knock. [<i>Knocks.</i>]</p> - -<p>I should not look the worse for a new coat, I think. My knee-ribbons -are bleached quite pale with the wind and the rain. <i lang="fr">Mais -n’importe!</i> the man, the man remains the same! These locks have -proved the keys to a Lady’s heart e’er now; and then wit and eloquence! -When I was flogged at school for affirming that a furbelow -must be an article, as I knew it to be an article of dress, my Master -observed that all my brains lay at the root of my tongue; and the -best position for them too, say I! Who would keep a prompter to -bellow to one from the top of the Monument, and where’s the use of -carrying one’s brains so high, that one must send a carrier pigeon -express for one’s thoughts before one can express them at all? Better -have wit to cover ignorance, than silence to conceal sense. One -can’t squint into a man’s head to see what it contains. Here comes -a light to the door: now for the encounter.</p> - -<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Weasel</span> opens the door.</i></p> - -<p>Is Mrs. [<i>coughs</i>] at home? Pray present my compliments to her, -and say that a gentleman who has lost his way entreats the favour of -shelter for a night under her hospitable roof.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> Shall I take up your name, Sir?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> No, Sir, you may take up my words. [<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Weasel</span>.</i>] -Had the fellow been a Constable he might have taken me up also, -for in this apparel I look more like a highwayman than a gentleman -in a highway. How very cold it is! I wish that the triangular-nosed -fellow would make haste; and yet my heart misgives me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> -I must ‘screw my courage to the sticking point!’ Impudence, -impudence is my passport! I hear him shuffling downstairs. Be -hardy, bold, and resolute, my heart.</p> - -<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Weasel</span> opens the door.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> Sir, my Mistress begs you to walk up.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Go on, go on, I’ll follow thee! [<i>Exeunt.</i>]</p> - -<h6>SCENE II.<br /> -THE PARLOUR OF MRS. JUDITH’S HOUSE.</h6> - -<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Judith.</span> <span class="smcap">The Misses Sophia, Barbara</span>, -and <span class="smcap">Horatia Rattleton</span>.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> For all this unmerited kindness, most kind and fair -ladies, a lonely wanderer can only return you thanks.</p> - -<p class="center">[<i>The young Ladies whisper together.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> Handsome, isn’t he?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Such a flow of eloquence, such a command of language.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> I wonder, Ratty, who he is.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jud.</span> Do you come from the North, Sir?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> I have spent the last few months there, Madam, though -I was not born in Scotland. They were unfortunate months to me. -I came to England on my Company’s being broken up.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Your Company! did you serve King George?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> No, Miss, I tried to serve myself.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> [<i>Aside to Barbara.</i>] Strange, is it not?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> Why was your company broken up?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Because we were not able to raise a Sovereign amongst -us. We were sadly cut up.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> [<i>Eagerly.</i>] By the Dragoons?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Laughing.</i>] Do not inquire too closely, fair Lady.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jud.</span> May I ask your name, Sir?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Charles Stu— [<i>Aside.</i>] Ass that I am!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jud.</span> I beg your pardon, Sir, I did not hear you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] The first word that comes! [<i>Aloud.</i>] Dapple, -Madam, Dapple. [<i>Aside.</i>] I might have hit on a more romantic name, -but my brain seems in a whirl.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> It is a very curious study to trace the derivations....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jud.</span> Any way related to the Dapples of....</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> Down, Adonis, down! your dirty little paws....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> One would suppose them sometimes prophetical of -future events. Who can deny that Hanover....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> Our family name of....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> [<i>Raising her voice.</i>] Who can deny that Hanover has a -great resemblance to Hand-over, or that Cumberland is as just a -denomination for the bloody Duke as if....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> Pretty little pet he is, is he not?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> Our family name of Rattleton is said to be derived -from a famous Ancestor of ours, a chief of the ancient Britons....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jud.</span> My Cousin by the Mother’s side....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> Whose head being cleft from his shoulders as he was -driving his chariot into the thickest of....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jud.</span> The family of the Goslings....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Also passionately fond of Heraldry....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> His spirit seemed unconquered even by the blow which -decapitated him, and he drove on....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> A Lion rampant over 6 grasshoppers....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> Whence our name of Rattle-ton or Rattle-on is said to -be derived.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] This is beyond endurance. They stun me. -What a nest of parrots I am in! I cannot get in a word.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Thus, Sir, your name of ... I beg your pardon, Sir, it -has slipped my memory.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] Hang me, if it has not fairly bolted from mine!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jud.</span> Mr. Charles Dapple.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] I’ll change the conversation. [<i>To Horatia.</i>] -You seem much devoted, Miss, to scientific pursuits.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> O, they are my delight, my recreation! Ornithology, -Mythology, Geology, Conchology, fascinate me. I was first given my -taste for the higher branches of these intellectual sciences by....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> Mr. Dapple, have you remarked my pretty little....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> My Uncle in the Scilly Isles, whose mind....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> Have you remarked....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> A profound genius....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> My little poodle, Adonis?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> By-the-by, Mr. Dapple, may I ask your opinion on a -much disputed point, where I venture to differ even from my Uncle? -What do you think of the Aerolites?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Turning to Sophia.</i>] A sweet little dog, indeed: what -fine eyes!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Do you think them....</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> The little pink ribbon round its neck is so becoming.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> [<i>Raising her voice.</i>] Mr. Dapple, Mr. Dapple, do you -think the Aerolites....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] Help me, my mother-wits!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Do you agree in the generally received opinion....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] Some political party perhaps!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Or do you think them....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Why, ma’am, I think—I—I am decidedly of opinion—that—that—the....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> The Aerolites....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Are nothing more or less than Jacobites.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">All the Ladies.</span> Jacobites!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Why, Sir, I always thought them a sort of stone....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Stone-fruit, true, true; I spoke without thinking. Stone-fruit, -a species of—of—apricots.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> Hark, there is a knock at the door. Peep through -the shutters, Ratty, and see who it is.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] A little diversion for me. I am growing so -hot. Silence to cover sense would in this case....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> ’Tis old Colonel Stumply.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Starting up.</i>] Colonel Stumply! I’m dished.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Ladies.</span> Why—what—who——</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Perhaps you will permit me, ladies, to retire. I feel -indisposed—faint! [<i>Exit.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jud.</span> I must go and welcome my old friend. [<i>Exit.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Bab!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> Ratty!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> What a flash of electricity has burst on my intellect!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> His noble air; his wan features....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> A fugitive....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> A wanderer....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> His sudden alarm....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> [<i>Rushing into her arms.</i>] O Ratty, Ratty, what a day! -what an honour! what a surprise!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> How now, what’s the matter?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Brain of adamant! could not instinct direct you to -the feet of your adored Prince?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> The Prince! Is it possible?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> Charlie! Charlie! O! what a moment!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Did you not hear him describe the ruin of his army....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> Did you not hear ‘Charles Stew—’ upon his noble -tongue....</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> How he started when he recollected himself....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> And O, how exquisitely pathetic, how touchingly appropriate, -the name he gave instead! Dapple; to signify how his -fortunes are chequered—Dapple....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> How the Jacobites were running in his head when he -even....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> Little reason had he to fear us. If Daresby had been -here....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> And this vile Colonel: no wonder he started off!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> What shall we do to get rid of him?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> All that woman ever attempted I am ready to perform.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> I would die for him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> And I too.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> The handsome, brave, dear, darling young Prince! And -to think that Daresby’s a Whig!</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Mrs. Judith</span> and <span class="smcap">Col. Stumply</span>.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Good evening, young Ladies, good evening. I have just -returned from the North, where we are everywhere triumphant, -and our laurels should ensure us a welcome from beauty. ‘None -but the brave, none but the brave deserve the fair,’ you know. Hey, -Miss Sophy?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] Monster!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] Traitor!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] Butcher!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> What, all silent and aghast? I shall begin to fear myself -unwelcome. Hey, Mrs. Judith? But my Regiment is quartered for -the night in the village, and I was sure that I might throw myself -on the hospitality of an old friend.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jud.</span> We are delighted to see you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Is your little room unoccupied to-night?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jud.</span> To tell the truth there is a young....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] I could beat her! [<i>Aloud.</i>] It is quite unoccupied, -Sir, except—except in this cold weather we keep the pigs there.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> The pigs!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jud.</span> Why, Ratty....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Oh, it is not fit to receive you, Sir. The chimney -tumbled in during the last gale....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jud.</span> Why, Ratty....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> And every pane of glass is broken.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> [<i>Aside to Barbara.</i>] O Bab, such lying can never thrive.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jud.</span> What strange non....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] How on earth can I stop her tongue? -[<i>Aloud.</i>] Aunt, Aunt, is there any supper prepared for the Colonel?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Anything; anything; the cold ride has sharpened my -appetite; but a good blaze like this cheers the heart, and gives me -courage to face even the pigs, Miss Ratty!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jud.</span> The pigs! why....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Would you like to see that everything is comfortable -yourself, Aunt? [<i>Aside.</i>] I am in a fever!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Turn out the pigs, hey, Mrs. Judith?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jud.</span> If I ever....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Go, dear Aunt, precious Aunt, do go.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> A nice little dish of your own making would be so -acceptable.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> We’ll take care of the Colonel.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jud.</span> I cannot com—pre—hend—I—— [<i>The girls half lead, -half push her out.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> You will excuse me, young ladies; I always make a point of -looking after my horse myself. [<i>Exit.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> [<i>Sinking on a chair.</i>] I am exhausted. Stupid sticks, -why did you not assist me?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> I tried, but....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> What shall we do now?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> My heart beats so, I shall expire.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> The Colonel will stay in spite of the pigs.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> Where can we hide the Prince?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> [<i>Starting up.</i>] A thought has struck me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> What, what?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> You shall hear—it has been done before. You will aid -me in the execution of it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> [<i>Throwing herself into her arms.</i>] O my Ratty!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> We will save him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> We will, we will!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Or perish with him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> We will.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Come, come, no time is to be lost; let us fly to his -succour.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘Come weal, come woe,</div> -<div class="verse">We’ll gather and go,</div> -<div class="verse">And live or die wi’ Charlie!’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> - -<h6>SCENE III.<br /> -A CHURCHYARD BY MOONLIGHT.</h6> - -<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Charles</span>, <span class="smcap">Sophia</span>, <span class="smcap">Barbara</span>, and <span class="smcap">Horatia</span>.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Where on earth are you taking me?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> To safety, to safety.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> We know all.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> You know all?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Your name, your situation....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Then you must know that the coming of the Colonel is -hangably inconvenient to me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> We tremble at your danger.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> We will defend you with our lives.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Excessively kind, but it is not quite come to that yet. -A kick or a caning....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> You make us shudder.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> But I do not like promenading at this hour in winter! -Is it a country fashion? I am very cold, and tired, and sleepy, and -I would rather retire to rest.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Here then we have arrived at the spot. Descend, and -you will find a bed prepared for you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Descend! why, hang me if it isn’t a vault!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> If it would please you to descend....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Please me, you barbarous witches! would it please -any one to be buried alive? What on earth do you mean?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> The only way to preserve your rights....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Rites, do you call these rites? They are very inhuman -rites. Anything but the rites of hospitality. To offer a stranger -the shelter of your roof, and then make his bed in a vault! This is -your spare-room, is it? If I had guessed what you meant to do with -your guest, I would not have troubled you with my company.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> O, for your Country’s sake....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> My Country’s sake! what good can it do my Country? -I know your motives, you scientific Monster! you want to make a -petrifaction of me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Is it possible that a treatment so....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> A treat meant is it? If you mean it for a treat, I assure -you that I do not consider it as one. You may go in yourself and -enjoy it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> So short a space ...</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> A very short space I can see, and a very narrow space -too. I’ll be hanged if I get into it!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Who could have expected opposition from such a -quarter?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> Can the Hero shrink from so small a trial of his constancy? -Oh, descend, descend, and we will admire....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Add mire, you cruel wretches! is there not enough at -the bottom already?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> We would preserve you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Didn’t I say so? Some inhuman experiment! But -I’ll not be preserved to please you, not I.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> [<i>Throwing herself at his feet.</i>] O noblest of men! doubt -not our fidelity! yield to our agonized entreaties!</p> - -<p class="center">[<i>The others kneel.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Yield, indeed! I beg you will rise, fair Ladies. I know -not if you are jesting; ’tis but a cold jest to me. As for entering -that vault, you may kill me before you bury me, for while I’m alive -I’ll not go, Ladies; I say I will not go.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Then we must leave him to his fate.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Leave me, leave me, all alone in a churchyard. -Ladies, ladies, for pity’s sake....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> I am beside myself.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Remain then beside me. Or rather, why cannot we -return to the house? I am half frozen with cold and ... and excitement!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> You forget the Colonel.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> The Colonel. O, is that all? Can’t you hide me in -some quiet corner?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> I have it! the storeroom.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> But if a search should be made?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Search! who’ll search? The storeroom is the very -place. Come, come, the air is piercing; come.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> This way; by the kitchen door.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Once more into the house, dear friends, once more. [<i>Exit.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Is this the Prince? the Hero?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> O Ratty! our duty remains the same! [<i>Exeunt.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> - -<h5>ACT II.</h5> - -<h6>SCENE I.<br /> -THE PARLOUR.</h6> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Colonel Stumply.</span> <span class="smcap">Weasel.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Good-morrow, Weasel. An old campaigner, you see, learns -to be an early riser.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> I wish your honour a good morning. I hope you found -your room comfortable.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Most comfortable. No traces of the pigs, ha, ha! none the -worse for the chimney-top; ha, ha, ha! That Comet has a tail, I -guess. Well, Weasel, how has all gone on these two years, since I -last found myself at Rattleton Hermitage? Hey?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> Much the same as usual, your honour. Our only varieties -are Dr. Daresby and the rheumatics; till last night when....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> The girls—the young Ladies seem much grown, much -improved.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> O, for the matter of that, yes, though Miss Ratty’s -sadly taken up with the books, d’ye see. She’s poring all day long -over a lot of different sorts of learnings; I don’t remember their -names, but they all ends in <em>oddity</em>. Then she’s an out and out -Jacobite, and thumps the piano when she sings ‘Charlie is my -darling,’ as though she took it for a Whig. Indeed, your honour, -last night....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> And Miss Barbara?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> She’s quiet like, Sir. She’s never off her chair stitching -away. They says, your honour, that she makes holes on purpose -to sew them up again, d’ye see?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Sophy—Miss Rattleton is a charming girl.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> Ah, so thinks some one else. Did your honour ever see -young Dr. Daresby?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> No, what of him?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> O, nothing, Sir. But they walks alone together, and -sings duets together, and he gave her the little poodle, and they says, -your honour, d’ye see....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Yes, yes, I understand.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> She always feeds that fat little dog herself, your honour. -She gives it slices of bread and strawberry jam. But she’s a good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> -young Lady, Sir. Often I sees her going to the cottages with her -little pink bag filled with the good things which Mrs. Judith makes. -(I knows that from Mrs. Marjory who has to wash out the grease-spots -every day for Miss Sophy.) And there she goes mincing along -with her long veil hanging behind, and her little poodle running on -before her. But may I make bold to ask how Master Stumply is? -He was a very little boy when....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Not a word of him, Weasel, not a word of him! He’s a -wayward ... don’t speak of him! folly and indiscretion have been -his bane.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> [<i>Shaking his head.</i>] There’s some others I know seem -running the same road.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> How? Who?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> O, it is not for me to say, your honour.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Speak; explain yourself.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> I dare say ’twas all a frolic, your honour, but there were -odd doings here yesterday.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Tell me, tell me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> [<i>Mysteriously.</i>] Perhaps as an old friend of the Family -your honour ought to know all, and such a rum affair....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Go on, go on.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> Well then, your honour, yesterday was a cold evening, d’ye -see, and as I was stirring the kitchen fire there comes a knock, and I -goes to the door, your honour.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Well.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> There stands a tall, genteel-like lad with a ragged coat. -And he would give me no name, but he said he was a Wanderer, and -asked for a night’s lodging. So Mrs. Judith, who never can refuse -any one, ordered the spare bed to be got ready for him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> So I turned him out, hey, Weasel? There’s the secret of the -pigs; but why this mystery?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> Mystery, Sir, ay, that’s the word; but if your honour was -to hear what followed!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> What? where did they put him?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> [<i>Lowering his voice.</i>] When it was night, your honour, -what sees I through the chink of the kitchen door in the passage but -the three young Ladies lugging along a great bundle, and stopping -and panting and puffing? So says I, I’ll see to the bottom of this, -so I pops out suddenly and says, ‘Can I help you, Misses?’ quite civil -like. But O Sir, how Miss Sophy trembled and turned as white as -a lily, and Miss Ratty stamped and sent me to the village—at that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> -hour, your honour, company in the house—the ground covered with -frost—I subject to the rheumatics—and what for, d’ye think? to get -her twopenceworth of shoe-ribbon, your honour; and when I brought -it, would you believe it?—she roared out that it was too narrow and -sent me back again.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Most strange! most unaccountable! Have you any guess -what was in the bundle?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> I winked at it, your honour. There was a mattress and -blankets, I’m sure.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> For the Stranger, I suppose. But this mystery! I cannot -understand it. Where could they be going?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> To the churchyard, I thinks.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> The churchyard!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> Why, your honour, they certainly did not go into the -kitchen, and the back-door leads straight across the yard to the -Church, and the vault would be no bad hiding-place, your honour. -Miss Ratty has hid there herself, I knows, when the dentist was here.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Have you no other clue? What an extraordinary affair!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> Why, Sir—your honour, last night Mrs. Marjory overheard -Miss Ratty whispering Miss Sophy, and she said, Sir....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> What? speak out!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> ‘As long as the Colonel remains here the Prince must -keep concealed.’</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> [<i>Springing up.</i>] The Prince! ha, ha! I smell a rat! the -Pretender! the Pretender! if there was ever such luck, such fortune! -Hang me if I could not—but there’s not an instant to be lost. Fly, -Weasel, to the village. Bid Corporal Catchup and a dozen stout -fellows be with me directly. Fly, I say, and if it be all as I hope, I’ll -cram you with gold till you choke. Begone! Fly! [<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Weasel</span>.</i>] -Thirty thousand pounds and a baronetship! Sir Stephen Stumply! -Ah, if that wayward boy—the Pretender! the Pretender! he’s in -a net, in a net, and I’ll be hanged if I let him out of it. [<i>Exit.</i>]</p> - -<h6>SCENE II.<br /> -THE DRAWING-ROOM.</h6> - -<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Horatia</span>.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> What a sleepless night I have passed, what anxiety, -what excitement! and yet how unlike is he to what I had imagined! -so timid, so petulant! and that perpetual punning! It matters not, -however,—his title to our services remains the same! A strange misgiving<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> -is on my soul; is it the shadow of approaching danger, or -only the fear of it? The Colonel gave me a strange meaning look as -he passed me this morning, and said, ‘You are early up, Miss Ratty; -I fear that your rest was broken last night.’ Can he suspect anything? -That sneaking wretch, Weasel! Hark, I hear the Colonel’s -step and a strange voice. I’ll conceal myself behind this screen. -Perhaps....</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Colonel Stumply</span> and <span class="smcap">Corporal Catchup</span>.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Plant two stout fellows at the front door, and half a dozen in -the garden. Place them so that there shall be no possibility of escape -either from the house or the churchyard adjoining.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cor.</span> I will, Sir.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] Horror and despair!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Yourself and four of your best men go and search the open -vault at the right-hand corner of the churchyard, and on your lives -let not your prisoner escape. Go, plant your Sentinels, and then to -your business. [<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Corporal Catchup</span>.</i>] I will go and superintend -myself. [<i>Exit.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Day of horror and misery! All is lost. All is discovered. -If I but knew of one who could divert the attention of -these wretches till the Prince escaped! If I ...</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Daresby</span>.</i></p> - -<p>Daresby! He’s a Whig! but I’ll make him my tool.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> Good morning, I came thus early....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> [<i>Speaking very fast.</i>] You are so welcome—you came -just a moment ...</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> My Sophy! nothing is the matter with her?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> O no. It’s a poor soldier—got the cholera—lying in -the vault ...</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> In a vault!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Run, run, dearest Daresby, or you will be too late.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> What do you mean? Explain yourself.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> The cholera, I say—in the vault—O! you put me in a -fever. For my sake, for Sophy’s—O run, fly!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> Whatever can you ...</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Go, or I shall run wild! You know the way, go!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> If I can be of any use to the poor sufferer. [<i>Exit.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> O, what a relief! he’s gone! I should never survive -another day of such excitement. If they once suppose that their -object is gained and the Prince caught, the sentinels will be removed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> -from the garden, and he can escape through the window. If the -deception can be carried on for one half-hour he may be saved. I -must go and put my sisters on their guard, and prepare the Prince for -flight. If Aunt Judith or Weasel see and recognise Daresby all is -lost. I wish I could lock them both up. What a labyrinth I am -in! The greatest comfort is that the Colonel is a blockhead, and -would not know a prince from a pancake! [<i>Exit.</i>]</p> - -<h6>SCENE III.<br /> -THE STORE-ROOM.</h6> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Something better than a vault this, methinks. I could -not have found a hiding-place more to my mind. Excellent cherry-brandy -she makes, this Mrs. Judith. I have entered half a dozen -professions since I entered this room; it will be hard if I do not make -my fortune out of one of them. I am an Historian, for I have been -discussing old dates; a Merchant, for I add plum to plum; a Lawyer, -for I have opened many a case; a Lord Mayor, for the mace is before -me; and a Navigator, for I am led to seize and gulf! What if I were -to stay here altogether, or set up a new company with my fair -hostesses? Miss Ratty is cut out for a tragedy Queen. Such passion! -such emphasis! [<i>Mimicking.</i>] ‘That my keen knife see not -the wound it makes’—but the puzzle is that they are all ladies; not -one to take a gentleman’s part. It is a shame in me to say so, for -I am sure that they have taken mine. My only hope would be in -Weasel. That fellow has such a desperate squint, that I am sure -he would make a capital Lear!</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Horatia</span>.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Fly! fly! while yet there is a moment’s respite.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Fly! and wherefore?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Rouse all the ancient courage of your race ...</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> There can be no courage in a race, for a race is running -away.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Let the spirit of your Ancestors glow in your bosom, -for the hour of danger is come.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> ‘I dare do all that may become a man’ ...</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Does this trifling become a man and a hero?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> I know of but one thing, fair Ratty, that can become a -man and a hero.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> What is that?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> A boy, to be sure!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Enough, enough of this perpetual play of words. We<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> -must think, we must act. Another is now taking your place at the -vault ...</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> My place! how excessively obliging!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Every moment is invaluable. Put on this dress of my -Aunt’s which I have brought for you, and fly, fly, while the deception -lasts!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> The brandy must have got into my head.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Put it on, I entreat you, if not for your own or your -Country’s sake, yet for your noble Father’s.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> My Father’s! Either you or I ... Why, what’s the -matter with him? Is he in the farce too?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] He is the worse for liquor! O horrible! and -at such a moment! [<i>Aloud.</i>] The soldiers are here—sent to seize -you—to drag you to a dungeon, perhaps an ignominious death.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Alarmed.</i>] And why? what have I done?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> I heard the orders given. One hour’s delay will lead -you to the scaffold.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> The scaffold!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> The block.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> The block! why, what is my crime? Why does not my -Father come to my assistance?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Your Father cannot—he is exiled from his native land. -Were he to appear, he must perish too.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Have you hid him? have you hid him?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] Horridly drunk! [<i>Aloud.</i>] Put on this dress -and fly. It is your only chance of life.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> You have put me into a shiver. I cannot half believe, -nor a quarter comprehend you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Believe then these tears, this agony of apprehension in -which you see me. This moment the soldiers may be mounting -the staircase—cutting off all hope ...</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Give me the slip then, and I will give them the slip! -quick, quick, and the cloak and hood.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Here, here! O despatch! while you remain here I -tread on hot iron.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> I am to personate your Aunt.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Yes, yes, any one, but make haste.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> So, I’m equipped. Farewell, Lady!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Pull the hood over your face. O farewell! [<i>Exit -<span class="smcap">Charles</span>.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> One hour more of excitement, and then ... [<i>Exit.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> - -<h6>SCENE IV.<br /> -THE CHURCHYARD.</h6> - -<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Corporal Catchup</span> and Soldiers.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Corp.</span> Silence! Silence! halt! advance bending down and with -your bayonets presented. Comrades, this is a glorious day, and -if we catch the Pretender we shall have little cause to grieve -that we arrived a day too late for the Battle of Culloden. What -were the deeds of the Duke of Cumberland to ours? He but -wounded the fox, we catch him by the nose. We shall be made -Aldermen, every man of us. Take ground behind those bushes; -keep silence. I hear a voice in the vault. On your lives be silent—be -steady!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> [<i>In the vault.</i>] I can find no one, yet here is a bed -prepared. What a strange place to make an hospital of! [<i>Emerging -from the vault.</i>] Perhaps the poor fellow has got frightened and -delirious ...</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Corp.</span> Stand!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> Ah, here is my Patient. So you have got the -cholera, my Friend!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Corp.</span> No, unless that’s one of your titles. Surrender or die!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> He must be in a high fever! Be calm, my good man, I -will render you all the assistance in my power.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Corp.</span> You will, will you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> Come with me to the house, come. This is no place -for a person in your state.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Corp.</span> Well, if this arn’t droll! he’s trying to humbug me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> You may catch your death of cold.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Corp.</span> I’ll catch nothing but you. Come along, Sir, offer no -resistance, for it’s of no use. I’m sorry for you, but I’ve a duty to -perform, and a reward to get.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> What do you mean, fellow? Stand off!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Corp.</span> Ho! guards there! [<i><span class="smcap">Daresby</span> is surrounded.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> This is some error. By whose warrant do you dare to -apprehend one of his Majesty’s subjects?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Corp.</span> No use in all that deception, Sir: all’s discovered now.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> What’s discovered, fellow, what deception? Who dares -use such terms to me! You shall answer for your conduct, Sir; this -shall not be passed over, I’ll warrant you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Corp.</span> I hope not, Sir.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> This is not to be endured. By whose orders do you -presume to place me under arrest?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Corp.</span> We are under the orders of Colonel Stumply.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> I must see the Colonel instantly. He shall give me -an explanation of this extraordinary affair. Take me to him -directly.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Corp.</span> All in good time, Sir. Stickum, have you handcuffs with you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> Handcuffs, villain!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Stickum.</span> No.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Corp.</span> Keep your hand on his collar, then. Soldiers, present -bayonets. Let him attempt to escape, and he dies.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> With what effrontery ...</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Corp.</span> Move on, Sir, if you please. [<i>To the Soldiers.</i>] Keep -your eye on him. If he but raise his hand or turn his head—fire! [<i>Exeunt.</i>]</p> - -<h6>SCENE V.<br /> -THE GARDEN GATE.</h6> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">O’Shannon.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> A could, misty, morning, and I am left here to keep watch -without a drop of the cratur to cheer my heart or keep my spirits -from sinking. There’s all the rest of them gone to catch the Pretender -and get the prize-money, and it’s nothing that I’m likely to -catch here but a cold. I wish that I had never left the tallow -business, that I do, for all this murthering work. It was a lucky -chance that we were a day too late for the fair at Culloden; it’s no -fancy I have for the Highlanders’ dirks. Awful slashing work they -made, ’tis said. Well-a-day! I must shoulder my gun; if the -Corporal found me standing at ease, he would order me a round -dozen: there’s no fear of it’s going off for its own accord, the cratur, -for I forgot to load it this morning.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Charles</span> in disguise.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] And there is a Sentry! Horatia was right! -But what they should want to arrest either me or my Father for is -more than I can comprehend! This is really nervous work. I fear -that I shall find it as difficult to pass this fellow as I found it at -school to parse a sentence from my grammar-book. Notwithstanding -the dress with which Ratty provided me, I shall need all the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> -address of which I am master to get through this scrape should he -address me. I must put on an air of confidence. Perhaps he may -let me pass without question.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> A black morning, Ma’am.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Attempting to slip past.</i>] Did you ever see mourning -any other colour?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> Can’t pass here, Ma’am.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> No! and why?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> ‘Cause I am posted here to keep a good watch.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Attempting to pass again.</i>] Easier to keep a good -watch than to get one!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> I have orders to let no one pass.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> O but, my good fellow, I have very important business. -You must let me go.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> Keep back, Ma’am. Now I thinks on’t, your hood looks -rather suspicious.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Retreating a step.</i>] Does it? A sort of robbin’ hood, -I suppose. [<i>Aside.</i>] I wish the fellow were at Jericho.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> And that dress was never made for you? Let me see a -little closer. [<i>Advancing.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Retreating. Aside.</i>] Shall I run for my life?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> Stop, stop, my good Lady! Methinks your dress is -uncommon short, too, it hardly reaches to the clocks of your stockings.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Mind your watch, and leave my clocks alone. [<i>Aside.</i>] -O dear! O dear! If I were but once fairly off! [<i>Attempts to -run.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> Stop, or I’ll shoot ye! I’ll send a bullet through your -head if ye stir an inch farther.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] I’m done for!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] I’ll make sure. [<i>Suddenly darts towards -Charles and pulls back his hood.</i>] Hillo! hillo! I’ve caught him! -I’ve caught him, ’tis the man himself.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] One struggle for life. [<i>Aloud.</i>] Beware, fellow, -I have arms. [<i>Aside.</i>] None but what nature gave me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> [<i>Retreating a step. Aside.</i>] Murther! and the gun is -not loaded!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] I’ve staggered him! [<i>Aloud.</i>] Lay but a -finger on me and I’ll lay you with the dust.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> Keep off, or I’ll shoot ye.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Retreating.</i>] A fig for your gun!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> [<i>Aside. Retreating.</i>] I wish some one would come. -I’ve heard he’s a raal hero. I’ll call for help. Holloa! there.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Hold your peace, or I’ll cut you piece-meal.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> I’ll blow your brains out, I will! [<i>Aside.</i>] He can’t guess -that it’s not loaded.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] If he should fire!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] If he should fight! My poor Mother; och, if -she could see me now, ’twould pit her into high-strikes. Is no one -coming to help me?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] If I could but touch his kinder feelings! I -have been accustomed to steal hearts, but I fear that I should find -his steeled already. I must make one more effort to steal past him. -But the sight of his matchlock makes my blood run cold.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> Och! he’s coming nearer. O for pity’s sake ...</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> If mercy ever touched your bosom ...</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Corporal Catchup</span>.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> Catch him! catch him! ’tis he, the Pretender! catch -him, Corporal! collar him! never fear!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Corp.</span> Who? the old woman?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> Catch him, I say, and never be frightened for him, man. -I found him out.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> So—all is lost.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Corp.</span> A man in disguise! it must be he. Bind him, O’Shannon. -This is a prize indeed.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> Ah, poor gintleman, your troubles will soon be pit an -end to. Ah! ye may well sigh, for no man laughs on his way to the -gallows.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> The gallows! is it possible that so inhuman a murder -can be contemplated?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> O ye may be satisfied of it! There’s only one thing -that’s doubtful, I’m thinking.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> What’s that?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> Whether they’ll stick your head on the Lord Mayor’s -mace before or after they’ve hung you!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> O horrible, horrible, most horrible! It cannot, O it -cannot be! What a dreadful, what a fearful fate! O that the first -step I took from my Father’s home had been into a horse-pond! that -I had died e’er I left it!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> Ay, there’s the pity! Had ye stayed peaceably at home, -this would never have happened to ye.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> The gallows! can it be?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> Ah, how all the Ladies will pity ye! such a likely lad, -and so young, and ...</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Silence! you distract me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> Poor gintleman! when it comes to the pinch, when the -rope ...</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Corp.</span> No more, O’Shannon! You have secured his arms. Bring -him speedily along with you. No delay!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> My limbs can scarcely support me! O day of agony, -of misery, and despair! [<i>Exeunt.</i>]</p> - -<h6>SCENE VI.<br /> -THE PARLOUR.</h6> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Colonel Stumply.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> [<i>Rubbing his hands.</i>] Caught! caught! This is indeed a -good day’s work.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Sophia</span>, <span class="smcap">Barbara</span>, and <span class="smcap">Horatia</span>.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Ah! ha! my pretty Jacobites, this comes of your plotting. -The Pretender is in safe hands now. Who would have thought you -up to such a conspiracy?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Alas, our unhappy Prince!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> [<i>Aside to <span class="smcap">Horatia</span>.</i>] Poor Daresby! It makes my heart -faint to think of him. I cannot stay to look on.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> You must stay to keep him silent. ’Tis but for an hour. -I am ashamed of you. Remember that you have a part to perform.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophy.</span> I cannot say what is not true.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Say nothing, then.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Daresby</span> guarded.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> [<i>To the <span class="smcap">Col.</span></i>] Sir, I demand an explanation of this -most extraordinary and unjustifiable treatment. Sir, I am a gentleman -and ... [<i><span class="smcap">Horatia</span> makes earnest signs to him to be silent.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> You shall be treated, Sir, with all the respect due to your -station, consistent with your safe custody.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> Of what am I charged? Who is my accuser? what -wretch dares? [<i><span class="smcap">Horatia</span> repeats the signs.</i>] What is the meaning of -all this nonsense? Do you wish to make a fool of me? I’ll not -endure this ...</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Be calm, Sir, and submit to destiny.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> I’ll not submit to such treatment. My name is ...</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p> - -<p>[<i><span class="smcap">Horatia</span> in an agony throws herself at his feet, exclaiming</i>] O -noble man! for the sake of all you love....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> Horatia, I am in a dream. Sophy, of you I ask, I -entreat, an explanation. Why am I thus confined? Why do you -stand calmly looking on my disgrace?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophy.</span> Calmly! O Da ... [<i>Aside.</i>] I cannot restrain my tears.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> Are you too my enemy?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophy.</span> Your enemy! O!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> [<i>To the <span class="smcap">Colonel</span>.</i>] Are my political opinions suspected? -Am I supposed to be a Ja....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> You are known—you are known—to be—to be—to -be ... [<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Weasel</span>.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> [<i>Springing to <span class="smcap">Sophia’s</span> side.</i>] O Sophy, for pity’s -sake take that creature off, or....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophy.</span> Weasel, Weasel! [<i>Aside.</i>] What can I say?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> What! Dr. Da....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> Weasel, Weasel, will you go directly to the garden and -fetch....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> What, Miss?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> Fetch, fetch—some spinach.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> Spinach don’t grow in November, Miss, as Dr....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Go to the village directly for....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> Can’t go to the village no more, Miss, till I’ve laid the -cloth for breakfast. The Doc....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> We must have wine. Go to the cellar.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weasel.</span> Haven’t got the keys, Miss. If I might make bold to ask -why....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Begone this instant ... we shall want poultry. Wring -every chicken’s neck in the yard, or I’ll wring yours as sure as I stand -here! [<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Weasel</span>.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> What an extraordinary temper!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> Sophy, Sophy, if you are still the ingenuous being I ever -believed you to be, tell me in what farce I am thus forced to act a -part against my will. Tell me the secret of the conspiracy which -seems formed against me. Are you an accessory?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Why, the Ladies have been turning every stone in your -defence! They never let out the secret! As far as they were -concerned you might have remained in your vault until you were old -enough to stay there altogether!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> Every sentence that I hear bewilders me yet more. -Ratty Rattleton, Ratty Rattleton, you are at the bottom of the plot.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Mrs. Judith</span>.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] Aunt Judy! this is distraction!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jud.</span> Young Daresby, my....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Aunt, Aunt....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jud.</span> What’s the matter?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> The ... [<i>aside</i>] at last I seem come to my wits end! -[<i>Aloud.</i>] The....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> Mrs. Judith Rattleton, you are my friend, you will bear -witness....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> The most important....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> O dear Aunt....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Barbara.</span> If you would only hold your tongue!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jud.</span> What a racket! what ... why....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> Mrs. Judith, I am here charged with....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jud.</span> You, Daresby! Why, Colonel, this is....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Not the Prince! Then he is concealed in the house! I see -all; follow me, Guards ... [<i><span class="smcap">Sophy</span> throws herself at his feet; -<span class="smcap">Horatia</span> and <span class="smcap">Barbara</span> rush to the door.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> You shall pass over my corpse! I am desperate! [<i>The -door suddenly opens. Enter <span class="smcap">Charles</span> guarded by <span class="smcap">O’Shannon</span> and -the <span class="smcap">Corporal</span>.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">All the Young Ladies.</span> The Prince! horrors! the Prince!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> My chum, Charles Stumply!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> My Father!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Ah, Scapegrace! dare you present yourself before me? -Under what false and shameful pretences have you entered this -house?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O’Shan.</span> Charles Stumply! hang the fellow, he’s only a man -after all.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby</span>. I cannot contain my surprise.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jud.</span> The ungrateful vagabond! he has stolen my best gown -and hood.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> I shall sink to the cellar.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> O Daresby, how comical!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Speak, you scamp! What has induced you to dress yourself -like—a—speak! nor add a falsehood to your other faults and -follies.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> My dear Father, I have used no deception except that -of changing my name. I am the deceived, not the deceiver. No -one present is as much surprised at seeing me, as I myself am at -finding myself thus. These fair Ladies kindly and willingly took me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> -in, and I see that, quite unwittingly, I have taken them in also! I -own that I merit your displeasure, but I will do so no longer. I have -received a lesson which I will not soon forget. I will no longer run -counter to your wishes, but return to the counter for which you -destined me. I have long devoted myself to a-muse, but now I will -learn to obey. I own that I too fondly sought the giddy cheer of an -applauding audience. Romance and her knights had taken possession -of my fancy, but I have found the nights too cold, and the cheer -too indifferent. I return with humble regret to my loving Sire, and -if he will receive me a-gain, he may perhaps be able to make a-gain -of me yet!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Col.</span> Ah, you Rogue, you little merit that I should look at you -again. The Pretender, indeed! so farewell to my dreams of fortune! -I always thought it too good to be true. Ladies, I have to beg a -thousand pardons for my rudeness in breaking in....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> I must bear that blame, my Father. Had I not broken -out, you would not have broken in.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Horatia.</span> Deceiving Wretch! could I for a moment....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> No anger, fair Miss Ratty, we had enough of this indignation -at the brink of the vault, when you were near falling out -with me because I would not fall in with your ideas, and fall into -the vault.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> Ah, Sophy, how you treated me!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sophia.</span> I thought it my duty, dearest.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Daresby.</span> I can pardon you anything; but that deceiving Ratty, -whose word I can never again believe....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> No more of that, Daresby. The farce is ended, the -mists of mistake are clearing up, the reign of Folly must fall, let not -Anger survive its cause!</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Now that we have ended all this War of Words,</div> -<div class="verse">And fall to drawing corks instead of swords,</div> -<div class="verse">Now the Pretender may his Captors mock,</div> -<div class="verse">And view with glee a match without the lock,</div> -<div class="verse">Let each resentful thought and feeling cease,</div> -<div class="verse">And General Harmony conclude the Piece!</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="I_CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1847-1849<br /> -HOME LIFE</span></h3> - -<p>In 1847 a new interest entered the life of Charlotte Tucker. -The three little ones of her brother Robert and his wife,—Louis, -Charley, and Letitia,—came to live at No. 3, and -were made her especial charge. All of them, but -particularly the pretty little dark-eyed Letitia, then only -two years old, were thenceforward as her own; first in her -thoughts, and among the first in her love. She taught them, -trained them, devoted herself to them; and their names -will often be found in her letters. The death of Letitia, -nearly twenty years later, was one of the heaviest sorrows -she ever had to endure. One is disposed to think that the -care and responsibility of three little ones, undertaken -in the midst of a full and busy family life, and in addition -to all the duties of that life, could have been no sinecure, -and must have been fraught with many a difficulty.</p> - -<p>The Tuckers were much in society, as may indeed -have been already gathered. Mr. Tucker was a man -greatly sought after, alike on account of his position and -influence, and because of his personal attractiveness. Open -house was kept; and the large circle of friends and -acquaintances never failed to find a welcome. So many -indeed would drop in and out, that three lunches in -succession were occasionally known to take place at No. 3; -and so frequent were the ‘parties’ to which the family was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> -invited, that sometimes they would appear at three -different houses in the course of one evening. ‘Party’ in -those days was a wide term, embracing divers kinds of entertainment, -from a simple musical gathering to a large ball.</p> - -<p>Dinner-parties also were numerous. In reference to -these, Charlotte Tucker wrote rather drolly to her sister -late in life, speaking of—‘those formal affairs, which you -and I remember in our earlier days. We <em>must</em> ask So-and-so; -and how shall we find gentlemen to counterbalance -Mrs. and Miss out of one house? Slow concerns those -great dinner-parties were; a kind of social duty, which -cost much trouble and expense, and gave not much -pleasure. A kind of very stiff jelly, with not many strawberries -in it.’</p> - -<p>An amusing story is told about these large dinners. In -those days the custom of ‘drinking healths’ had gained -sway to an absurd and objectionable extent; gentlemen -being expected to respond to every toast, and not only to -sip their wine, but very often to empty their glasses, under -pain of giving serious offence. Mr. Tucker always had by his -side a decanter of toast and water, from which his glass was -filled for the various toasts; and probably those not in the -secret counted him a marvellously hard-headed man. One -day a guest requested leave to taste this especial wine, -which was kept for the host alone, supposing it to be of -some very rare and choice vintage. His request was -immediately complied with; and the face of the <i lang="fr">bon-vivant</i> -may be imagined when he discovered himself to be -drinking toast-and-water.</p> - -<p>No doubt these dinners <em>were</em> a ‘social duty’; and no -doubt some of them may have been extremely dull. Yet -it must not be supposed that Charlotte did not thoroughly -enjoy London society, and did not fully appreciate intercourse -with polished and intellectual minds. That -which in her old age would have been a mere weariness to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> -her, was no weariness in youth and early middle age. -One of her brothers remarks: ‘She was very sociable, -lively, and threw her whole heart into the kindly entertaining -of guests of all ages.’ Such powers of entertaining -as she possessed could not but have gone with enjoyment -in the use of those powers.</p> - -<p>Moreover, the study of different characters, the drawing -out of other people’s thoughts, the gaining of new ideas -for herself, must have had some fascination. And, despite -all her kindness, all her readiness to see the best in everybody, -she could not, with her keen sense of humour, have -failed to be a good deal amused with the various foibles -and absurdities which certain people are wont to display, -even in the best society, and when upon their most circumspect -behaviour.</p> - -<p>Ever merry, and ever making others merry, she could, as -one friend says, ‘keep a whole tableful laughing and -talking,’ without difficulty. In fact, whatever the dinner-parties -may have seemed to herself, her own presence, her -bright smile and sparkling conversation, effectually prevented -sensations of dulness on the part of others who -were there.</p> - -<p>Whether Charlotte ever had what, in the language of -fifty or sixty years ago, was delicately termed a ‘preference’ -for anybody, cannot be known. Her hand was at least once -sought in marriage, while she was still a girl; and some -signs seem to have been visible that she was disposed to -‘like’ the gentleman in question. Her parents, however, -disapproved of the match, and it came to nothing. If at -any time she really were in love, it is pretty certain that -she never would have revealed the fact to any mortal -being until sure that her ‘preference’ was returned. The -reticence which was so marked a feature in her otherwise -frank and open nature would undoubtedly have had sway -in this direction.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> - -<p>Speaking to a friend, long after in old age, she said that -in her young days ‘at home,’ when a certain nameless -gentleman was supposed to be paying his addresses to -Fanny, the other sisters were ‘very indignant’ at the idea -of any man wishing to break into their sisterly circle. -This probably preceded her own little affair, since Fanny -was four years her senior. The pretty notion of home-life -and of the unbroken sisterly circle had in time to yield -before stern facts, as first one sister and then a second -proved faithless to nursery traditions.</p> - -<p>Wide as was the circle of family acquaintances, the girls -possessed few intimate outside friends. Mr. Tucker rather -discouraged such intimacies, considering that his five -daughters ought to be content with the close companionship -of one another. Charlotte had above all her Laura, -whom she devotedly loved; and so satisfying was this -friendship that she probably cared little for others by -comparison.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Tucker, in her quiet way, was no less a power in -the house than was her husband. Though less brilliantly -gifted, she was very observant, very quaint, very wise, a -most affectionate Mother, intensely loved and revered by -all her children. She had her own peculiar mode of -looking upon things. For instance,—having noticed that -girls in an evening party, glancing at a mirror, were apt -to be disquieted to find their dresses disorganised, she -resolved to have no mirrors at all in her rooms, hoping -thereby to secure greater peace of mind among her guests. -It does not seem to have occurred to her, that a vague -uneasiness about the state of their attire might possibly -trouble them quite as much as even an uncomfortable -certainty.</p> - -<p>Another short story of Mrs. Tucker, showing her quiet, -incisive force of character, may well come in here. She -had a very strong objection to unkind discussion of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> -people behind their backs. On one occasion, when in the -drawing-room of a certain lady, other callers beside herself -were present, and one of the latter rose to leave. No -sooner was the unfortunate lady gone, than the hostess -began to speak of her in disparaging terms. Mrs. Tucker -made no immediate observation; but presently, turning to -the hostess, she said mildly, ‘I ought to be going,—but I -really am afraid to do so.’ Much surprised, the other -asked why. ‘Because,’ Mrs. Tucker replied, ‘I am -afraid that when I have left the room you will begin to -speak of me as you did just now of Mrs. ——.’ The -courteously uttered reproof—a pretty sharp one, however -gently bestowed—was accepted in an equally courteous -spirit; and the hostess earnestly assured her that nothing -of the kind should take place.</p> - -<p>There is no need to imagine, because Charlotte was gay -and bright in society, that she never knew the meaning of -depression. Shadows of loss and sorrow had not yet -begun to fall across her pathway; yet even in those happy -days she must have grasped the meaning of ‘down’ as -well as ‘up.’ Rather curiously, she spoke of herself in old -age as having been when young ‘subject to very low -spirits’; or more strictly, she said that she would have -been so subject, but for the counteracting influences of -‘religion’ and ‘work,’ the latter arising from the former. -High spirits seldom exist without some tendency to -occasional re-action. But certainly the sense of depression, -whenever it may have assailed her, was not allowed to be a -weight upon others in her everyday life.</p> - -<p>It was most likely somewhere between 1847 and 1849 -that she began to feel uneasy about going to certain -kinds of amusement. Fanny was the first to dwell upon -this subject, and to be unhappy as to exactly what she -ought or ought not to do. Long years after Charlotte -Tucker wrote: Sweet Fanny suffered <em>much</em> from her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> -sensitiveness of conscience’; and the words may perhaps -in part have borne reference to such debatings as these.</p> - -<p>Fanny’s gentle, yielding nature went no farther than -being troubled. She did not speak out. But when the -same questionings spread to the younger sister, matters -were different. Charlotte was not one who would hesitate -as to action, in the face of her own conscience. To some -extent here lies the gist of the matter. While she could go -with a clear and perfectly easy conscience, able to enjoy -herself, and untroubled by doubts, she probably did so without -harm to herself, so long as her life was not ‘given -to pleasures,’ that is to say, so long as she did not unduly -<em>love</em> these things, or allow them to occupy a wrong place in -her life. The moment conscience became uneasy, however, -there was nothing for her but to stand still and carefully -to consider her next step. For ‘he that doubteth is condemned -if he eat,’ even though the eating may not be actually -and intrinsically evil. Whether or no the things were -in their essence wrong,—and to decide this, each thing -would have to be regarded apart, entirely on its own merits,—they -became wrong for Charlotte, so soon as she could no -longer accept them with a free and happy mind. They -became wrong, at least, <em>unless</em> she felt her doubts to be -overridden by the duty of obedience.</p> - -<p>Fanny had doubted and hesitated; Charlotte doubted, -and did not hesitate. She went straight to her parents, -told them frankly what she felt, and asked whether she -might give up going to such places of entertainment as -caused her uneasiness.</p> - -<p>Wisely and generously Mr. and Mrs. Tucker yielded. -If it had become a matter of conscience with her, she -might remain at home. Although they did not view the -question in precisely the same light, they would not make -their conscience the rule for her actions, but would leave -her free to be guided by the dictates of her own.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> - -<p>Had they not so responded, had they insisted on -having her with them still wherever they went, Charlotte -would have given way. Hers was a high ideal of filial -submission; and though she had reached an age when she -had a right to an independent opinion, yet obedience to -them ranked in her mind before the necessity to decide -for herself, in a question where opinions might so greatly -differ. If they desired her to go, she would go. If the -matter were left to herself, she would be on the safe side -in all cases which seemed to her dubious, and would remain -at home.</p> - -<p>There is little or nothing in her letters of that date -bearing on this subject; but the above seems to have been -her manner of regarding it. While feeling the need to -draw for herself some line of demarcation between things -expedient and things inexpedient, she does not appear to -have fallen into the error, so common amongst really earnest -and excellent people, of counting that the line which she -rightly drew for herself must of necessity be the only right -line for everybody else. Such a view leads to many a harsh -and un-Christian judgment. What is dangerous for one -may not be perilous for another, who is differently constituted. -What is needless for one may be an absolute -duty for another, who is in quite a different position. -Probably Charlotte saw this. It is worth remarking that, -while she kept aloof from many entertainments out of the -house, she never, either then or in later years, refused to -join in home-parties, or failed to do her utmost to entertain -the guests. There was nothing morbid or repellent about -the development of her sense of duty.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS D. LAURA TUCKER.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>July 12, 1848.</i></p> - -<p>‘You are my lovely, loving, and lovable Laura; a Diamond -among gems, and a Rosebud among flowers. Why do you mention<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> -so often the mere handwriting of your letters? Do you think that I -see anything in them but the kindness of her who has, in the midst -of all her engagements, found so much time to devote to me? My -own Mother too—how very good to me she has been! I am grateful -to her for all her most kind endeavours to set my mind quite at ease -on the subject of the poor little Robins....</p> - -<p>‘We have taken it into our heads that, what between music and -teaching and writing and visiting, <em>you</em> may have more work on your -hands than may suit your taste. Under this idea, Fanny, like a dear -Quixote as she is, formed a grand plan of rushing up to town on -Thursday by coach with uncle Charlton, who happened to be coming, -and turning you off the music-stool, or snatching the spelling frame -from your delicate hand instanter.</p> - -<p>‘But I opposed this double-quick march for several reasons, which -I hope you may think cogent. In the first place, I hope that you -are not <em>so</em> hard-worked that it would be too much for you for a few -days more to go on with only the assistance of the fair Sibella and -Clara. 2ndly, The country seems really doing sweet Fan good. -She told me yesterday that she did not know when she had felt so -well. I too am perfectly well. 3rdly, I think at your full table on -Friday our room would be better than our company. 4thly, We are -engaged to take tea with Mrs. Edgecombe on that day. 5thly, For -Fanny to start off by coach and me to follow by fly, would appear to -me both an extravagant and extraordinary procedure. So, after all -these reasons, I thought that we had better fix on Saturday for the -day of our departure, until I heard that Aunt <em>must</em> come up to Town -on Monday. She offered to take us up with her, but as it would of -course be more agreeable to her to come with <em>us</em>, I think that we -shall find ourselves in dear old Portland Place on Monday morning.</p> - -<p>‘I am so much obliged to dearest Mamma for her kind intention -of taking me to Thalberg’s splendid Concert on Monday. It would -really give me more pleasure if I might present my ticket to dear -Fanny Lanzun, who has been all kindness and attention to us. You -know how we wished that <em>one</em> of our family might hear Jenny Lind. -Now I can hear through your ears; and none of the Lanzuns have -had that treat, you know.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS D. L. TUCKER.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Oct. 13, 1848.</i></p> - -<p>‘Many thanks for your last sweet note to me, and kind consent to -fill my place.... I do hope that you may not find teaching the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> -wearisome task which I sometimes do. Perhaps Aunt Laura may -succeed better in fixing the attention of her little pupils. At all events, -<em>I</em> am grateful to you for undertaking the trouble. You are dear to a -sister’s heart, sweet Laura, and I hope that you are one of the -blessings for which I am <em>not</em> unthankful....</p> - -<p>‘I had two delightful games of chess yesterday with my dear -Father.... What an awful state Vienna is in! Is not the murder -of Count Latour dreadful?’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Oct. 10, 1849.</i></p> - -<p>‘Another sweet note from my darling Laura. I am rich in letters -to-day, for I have received three such nice ones.</p> - -<p>‘Yesterday evening I spent about an hour at the piano. I did not, -however, sing any of your especial songs. I began one day—‘The -world is so bright’—but my heart and voice failed, because you were -away. However, I daresay that I shall try again this evening. -How it would cut up my music, were you to go to any great distance, -for most of my favourite songs are yours. How I have enjoyed -hearing you sing them.... Farewell, sweet Laura. I must go and -hear my children their lessons. I hear their little feet and voices -above me.’</p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="I_CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1847-1850<br /> -GRAVITY AND FUN</span></h3> - -<p>Though verging now on her thirtieth year, Charlotte -Tucker was still unknown to the public as an Author. If -the initials A. L. O. E. existed in her mind as a future -possibility, they had at least not yet appeared upon any -printed page.</p> - -<p>From time to time, however, her pen was busy; still in -the old line of comic or tragic plays, for home amusement. -In 1847 she wrote <cite>The Castle of Sternalt; a Tragedy in -Two Acts</cite>; belonging to the Cavalier and Roundhead -period of England’s history. In that same year she also -accomplished <cite>Grimhaggard Hall; a Farce in Two Acts</cite>—not -historical, but highly comic. After which came -apparently a gap of two or three years; and in 1850 she -wrote, <cite>Who Was The Witch? a Drama in Three Acts</cite>—historical -again, belonging to the days of the Saxons -and of King Harold, half comic, half tragic.</p> - -<p>It does not appear from these three plays that her -gift in the dramatic line had made any marked advance -during the ten years or more which had elapsed since -first she launched out in this direction. Probably an -entirely different mode of life from hers, a less sheltered -existence, a more extensive knowledge of human nature -in its countless phases, is an absolute necessity to such -development. There is in them much latent power, however<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> -unequal and undeveloped, whether it be of the grave -or of the sparkling and humorous description. The -following quotation from the <cite>Castle of Sternalt</cite> will give -an idea of her tragic style at that period. Ravensby, the -hero, is a Cavalier, imprisoned and condemned to death -on a false charge of murder.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p class="center">ACT IV.—SCENE I.<br /> -A DUNGEON.</p> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Ravensby.</span></div> -<div class="verse indent3">‘Th’ intensity of grief destroys itself.</div> -<div class="verse indent3">The torturer beholds his Victim stretched</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Unconscious, pain itself o’ercome by pain.</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Fate dooms me now to death; last punishment</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Which mortal can inflict,—and yet I feel</div> -<div class="verse indent3">There’s mercy in the doom. Thus to live on</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Were lingering martyrdom; it were to die</div> -<div class="verse indent3">By inches, drain my heart’s blood drop by drop.</div> -<div class="verse indent3">One flash ends all! O Clara, when my soul</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Hath ceased to suffer, can it cease to love?</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Methinks, when quitting Earth, ’twill still retain</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Her image, who was more than Earth to me!</div> -<div class="verse indent3">It is a portion of my being, twined</div> -<div class="verse indent3">With every thought and feeling; thou wilt weep,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">My Clara; thou canst not believe him false</div> -<div class="verse indent3">To faith and friends, who is so true to thee.</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Gazing into the uncorrupted depths</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Of thy pure feelings, thou wilt judge of mine.</div> -<div class="verse indent3">When all denounced me, thou wert still my friend</div> -<div class="verse indent3">When all forget, thou wilt remember still!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Agnes</span>.</i></div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Agnes</span>, <i>aside</i>.</div> -<div class="verse indent3">I ne’er have feared the eye of mortal man,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Why should I shrink from his?</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Rav.</span> Who comes to break</div> -<div class="verse indent3">The prisoner’s solitude?</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Agn.</span> One who would be</div> -<div class="verse indent3">The prisoner’s friend.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Rav.</span> I have no friend—save one.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Agn.</span> Can he speak thus who hath so long espoused</div> -<div class="verse indent3">The Royal cause, and served that cause so well?</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Who, girt with honours, well deserved, hath stood</div> -<div class="verse indent3">One in a noble Brotherhood of Fame!</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Where are the Cavaliers who fought with thee</div> -<div class="verse indent3">In battle, side by side, who with thee shared</div> -<div class="verse indent3">The feast, and drained the wine-cup to your King?</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Where are they now? what, gone? not one remains,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">T’assert thy innocence, or shield thee from</div> -<div class="verse indent3">An ignominious death. Friends! out upon them!</div> -<div class="verse indent3">They mock the name; it were not thus, if thou</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Hadst drawn thy gallant sword with those who wear</div> -<div class="verse indent3">No chains but those of Virtue, those who own</div> -<div class="verse indent3">No earthly Monarch, and uphold no power</div> -<div class="verse indent3">But that of Liberty; whose friendship lasts</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Not only when the red wine sparkles high,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">And revelry and song profane the night;</div> -<div class="verse indent3">If such had been thy comrades and thy friends,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Thou hadst not been forsaken thus.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Rav.</span> No more!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Agn.</span> The gate thou hast defended with thy blood,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">To-morrow casts thee forth, led out to die;</div> -<div class="verse indent3">And the proud towers coldly will look down</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Upon the closing scene; for hearts more hard</div> -<div class="verse indent3">And more impregnable decree thy doom.</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Thou diest a traitor’s death;—but wert thou <em>ours</em>,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Then ev’ry bush around the fatal spot</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Should hold an armed defender, ev’ry knoll</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Conceal an ambushed friend, and at a word</div> -<div class="verse indent3">A wall of steel should bristle round thy breast;</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Then swords should clash with swords, and they who came</div> -<div class="verse indent3">To shed thy blood lie weltering in their own.</div> -<div class="verse indent3">If thou wert ours—and yet thou mayst be ours,——</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Rav.</span> Cease, for I know thee, Temptress; words like these</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Betray the fair false lips from which they flow.</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Thou’rt Agnes, own it,—Gasper Tarlton’s love.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Agn.</span> Agnes I am, not Gasper Tarlton’s love.</div> -<div class="verse indent3">The thistledown that floats upon the breeze,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">The thorny weed which from my path I spurn,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">The insect which I crush beneath my tread,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Are not to me more insignificant,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">More worthless—than the Slave whom thou hast named.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Rav.</span> Thank Heaven! then my last doubt melts away;</div> -<div class="verse indent3">He yet is true, yet faithful to his King;</div> -<div class="verse indent3">My sacrifice will not be made for nought.</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Maid, he is honoured in thy hate!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Agn.</span> And thou——</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Rav.</span> Leave me.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Agn.</span> To perish!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Rav.</span> Thou canst not defend.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Agn.</span> I could,—yes, I could arm in thy behalf</div> -<div class="verse indent3">A thousand gallant hands, might I but say,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">‘The injured will on the oppressor turn,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Unite the love of freedom with revenge,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">A thousand-fold repay the debt he owes</div> -<div class="verse indent3">To your brave confidence; in Ravensby</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Ye will destroy a foe and win a friend!’</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Could I speak thus——</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Rav.</span> Thy sex protects thee, Maid,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Or thou shouldst learn the meed of treason. Hence!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Agn.</span> From other lips such words I had not borne.</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Why should I thus urge life upon thee,—why</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Seek to preserve thee in thine own despite?</div> -<div class="verse indent3">O thou art worthy of a nobler cause;</div> -<div class="verse indent3">I see in thee one who can nobly dare,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Firmly resolve, and boldly execute;—</div> -<div class="verse indent3">And what a bright career before thee lies——</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Rav.</span> A brief one,—from the dungeon to the tomb.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Agn.</span> To die a Traitor in the eyes of men.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Rav.</span> Better than live a villain in my own.</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Depart, and leave me to my fate. Away!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Agn.</span> O brave and glorious! I will tempt no more.</div> -<div class="verse indent3">My pride is humbled. I have found a soul</div> -<div class="verse indent3">That soars beyond mine own. I would not rob</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Thy pinion of one plume. I watch thy flight</div> -<div class="verse indent3">With kindling emulation. O for power</div> -<div class="verse indent3">To follow it, that I above this sphere</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Might rise; companion, not unworthy thee!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Rav.</span> A step approaches.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Agn.</span> None must see me here. [<i>Retires into shade.</i>]</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Agnes in the end confesses herself guilty of the crime -for which he is condemned to death;—in time to save his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> -name from lasting disgrace, though not in time to save -his life.</p> - -<p><cite>Who Was The Witch?</cite> though in parts amusing enough, -is hardly so good as the others. Modern English puns sit -oddly upon a background of pre-mediæval Saxon history. -<cite>Grimhaggard Hall</cite> is perhaps one of A. L. O. E.’s most -comic and laughable <i lang="fr">jeux-d’esprit</i>, over which one can -picture the family as enjoying many a hearty laugh. The -perpetual play upon words, and the almost rollicking fun -and nonsense of the whole, remind one of her earlier effort, -<cite>The Pretender</cite>, already given at length; though the later-written -farce is in some respects scarcely equal to the -girlish achievement. Both these plays illustrate well the -frisky and frolicsome side of a character which was in some -respects not only intensely serious, but absolutely stern. -Charlotte Tucker’s was truly a many-sided nature.</p> - -<p>Whether at this time she had already begun to write -anything in the shape of children’s story-books does not -appear. It is by no means unlikely, since the date of her -first appearance in print was now fast drawing near.</p> - -<p>The chief characters in <cite>Grimhaggard Hall</cite> are—Mr. -Cramp; Mr. Scull, an artist; Mr. Wriggle, a tutor; Miss -Cob; and Nellie, daughter of Mr. Cramp.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">ACT I.<br /> -<i>Library in Grimhaggard Hall. Nellie and Mr. Wriggle.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nellie.</span> O my dear old Tutor, I shall be so sorry to lose you! I -wish that my good Father had kept to his old plan, and instead of -sending Bob to College had kept both you and him here. This house -is so intolerably dull. When you are gone I shall sit looking at the -old stones in the old wall, till I petrify into one myself. Why, the -very spiders’ webs look as though there were no business doing in -them, and not a <em>fly</em> nor even a <em>broom</em> would call at the door! -Heigh-ho!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> You forget, honoured Madam, the governess, Miss Cob, -who is expected here to-morrow.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> A governess; the horror! then I hear that she is an -oddity; so absent; very learned though, and extremely well-informed. -I am rather old for a governess; I was seventeen last -March. It would have been quite a different thing to have gone on -with my studies here with you and Bob. Do you know that, without -vanity, I consider that I have made amazing progress during the -month that you have been here?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> In Geography, Madam, for instance. Let me have the -honour of recalling to your oblivious memory that only yesterday you -forgot the situation of Guinea.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> Nonsense! I said that it was on the <em>Gold</em> Coast, and -wished I had it in my own pocket.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> I have remarked with regret, if you will permit me to say -it, an aversion to consulting the Atlas, which——</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> Keep me from you and your atlas! Atlas carried the world, -and you would burden me with the Atlas. I hardly consider myself -competent yet to carry the whole globe on my poor little shoulders. -I should like to know what is the use of knowing the situation of this -place and that place, to one who never has the satisfaction of seeing -any place at all beyond the walls of our stupid garden. I wish that -the cross old gentleman who bequeathed my father Grimhaggard -Hall, had lived to repent it, that I do! I would rather live in the -narrowest lane in the City than be cooped up here like a toad -in a block. I’ve no fancy to be a Penelope,—stitch, stitch, -stitch!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> Penelope was a distinguished ornament to her sex.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> O dear Tutor, I know that she was a duck of a queen, but -distinguished for nothing but her <em>web-feat</em>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> The resource of literature remains to you, Madam, which -was never open to her. I would again venture to draw your attention -to the subject of Geography.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> O no more of that, I beg, my dear Mr. Wriggle. I know -that <em>Ham</em> and <em>Sandwich</em> are in the kitchen, <em>China</em> in the cupboard, -and <em>Madeira</em> in the cellar. That is enough for me. I regard Geography -simply in reference to utility. I’m quite a utilitarian by -principle. You know that the greatest navigator was a <em>Cook</em>; I dare -say that he discovered <em>Chili</em>, <em>Cayenne</em>, and <em>Curaçoa</em>. Now do you -know, my wise old Tutor, in spite of your white hair and all your -learning, I think that I could puzzle you.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> It would be difficult, Madam, to place a limit to your -powers.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> Tell me, why is Botany Bay called Botany Bay?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> I am not, I must own, aware from what the name is derived. -Probably the Botanist has there discovered some new and -curious specimens of plants.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> O you must have come from <em>Dunse</em> or the <em>Scilly</em> Isles. -Botany Bay is called Botany Bay, because blossoms of the <em>birch</em> and -sprigs of the <em>gallows-tree</em> are transplanted there <em>without their -leaves</em>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> I see! I see! Ha, ha!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> I wonder if Miss Cob will understand a joke,—if she will -ever perpetrate a pun. Do you know I fancy her such a prim old -quiz? I should like to know whether she will play at chess with -Papa, or teach me the guitar, as you do. Do you think that she will -endure this house?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> The total want of all society, except that which the walls -of Grimhaggard Hall have the honour constantly to enclose, may -perhaps have an effect upon the lady’s spirits not altogether exhilarating; -but when your brother returns from College, perhaps he may -be accompanied by some of his fellow-students.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> Students; what an idea! When my Father would sooner -see a Goblin than a young man under any circumstances!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> Is not this rather a peculiar—rather a singular—I would -say prejudice? Could such a word be applicable to the excellent Mr. -Cramp?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> I should say very singular indeed, did I not know its cause.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> Is it presumptuous to inquire what that cause may be?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> O I’ll tell you in a moment. It all arises out of the freaks -and folly of Mr. Grim of Grimhaggard Hall, who had, I am sorry to -say, the kindness to leave us this property, and thereby consigned me -to the dolefuls for the rest of my life.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> Was the estate bequeathed under any unpleasant conditions? -I never heard your respected father complain of such.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> O it is all <em>right</em> to my father because it was all <em>left</em> to him. -But you shall hear. This Mr. Grim had a promising nephew, ... -and this nephew, Mr. Atherton by name, was very naturally considered -as Mr. Grim’s heir, the old gentleman never having persuaded -any lady to marry him, and reign like another Proserpine over the -gloomy shades of Grimhaggard Hall.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> How then came the estate to your Father?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> Have a little patience, my dear Mr. Wriggle, and you shall -be as learned as myself upon the subject. Well, this old uncle -quarrelled with this young nephew. I think that it was about politics -or some such absurdity; the elder was a Tory and the junior a -Radical; no, the young one was the Tory, and the old one the Radical; -and this <em>radical</em> question was the <em>root</em> of the quarrel. Now -what do you think the spiteful old gentleman did?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> Disinherited his nephew, and left the property to Mr. -Cramp.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> That would have been a pretty severe lesson to the young -man; but what do you say to the affectionate uncle leaving such -a clause as this in his will? That my father must only have and -hold this said Grimhaggard Hall, on condition of poor Mr. Atherton’s -never even crossing the threshold of what he once considered -his home! The place must be perfectly <em>heir</em>-tight. If he ever -passes twelve hours under this roof, the whole estate is to revert -to him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> Such a clause argues little charity; but perhaps it may -ultimately prove for the benefit of him whom it was designed to -injure.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> Ah, you think that Mr. Atherton may still manage to get -his property out of his old uncle’s <em>clause</em>! I am sure I wish that Mr. -Grim had left the dull place to him, or any one but us; but then my -Father is not of my mind. Yet even he has not an atom of enjoyment -of his prize, from the perpetual fear of losing it. He has heard that -young Atherton is very sharp and clever; of course he will try to -regain his rights by any means that may present themselves; so I -really believe that Papa expects him to appear some day or other -through the key-hole. The gate is kept constantly locked,—luckily, -one can see the high-road from the house,—nothing in the shape of -a Man is permitted to pass it; we have even parted with all men-servants, -lest Mr. Atherton should manage to get in disguised as a -lackey. Grimhaggard Hall is a regular Convent. A travelling -pedlar is regarded with suspicion; the butcher-boy must hand the -leg of mutton over the gate; the young apothecary is an object of -terror,—I could not have a tooth pulled out, were I to die for it. -Dear me, how it is raining! The weather seems endeavouring to -find out whether it be possible to make Grimhaggard Hall look a little -duller than usual.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> I hope Miss Cob may be fortunate in having finer weather -for her journey to-morrow.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> She is on the road to-day, like John Gilpin’s hat and wig.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> -She was to leave Puddingham this morning, and rest to-night at the -Jolly Bridecake at Mouseton. I hope the coach is provided with oar -and rudders, for she will certainly have to swim for it!...</p> - -</div> - -<p>In the midst of this talk an artist’s gig is smashed outside -the front gate; and the artist, Mr. Scull, being much shaken, -is actually admitted within the walls of the old Hall, to the -great disquiet of Mr. Cramp, who is determined that, come -what may, the young man shall not remain through the -night. It is a pelting day, and no other conveyance -seems likely to pass; while the artist is plainly unable to -walk the distance which separates Grimhaggard Hall -from the next town. While this matter is still under discussion, -a ring at the front-door bell is heard, and ‘a -woman of very singular appearance’ is seen ‘standing in -the rain, without an umbrella, as if water were her native -element.’</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> Who can it be? [<i>Runs to the window.</i>] Why, how tall -she is! she looks as though she had grown a foot since that dress -was made for her. What an extraordinary figure! Why, Sarah is -actually letting her in. Papa, we have not had so many visitors -since we came here. Grimhaggard Hall is growing quite gay.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cramp.</span> I will go and meet this strange guest. [<i>Exit.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> It cannot be—it cannot be Miss Cob! Such a governess -would kill me either with terror or with laughter.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> You were in expectation, Madam, of some one remarkable -for eccentricity. We must not always judge of the qualities of the -mind by the singularity of the exterior.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Mr. Cramp</span> and <span class="smcap">Miss Cob</span>.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cramp.</span> Miss Cob,—my daughter. [<i><span class="smcap">Nelly</span> makes a curtsey, <span class="smcap">Miss -Cob</span> a bow.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> [<i>Aside to <span class="smcap">Wriggle</span>.</i>] I shall never keep my countenance.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] That is to be regretted, for it is a very fair one.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cramp.</span> We did not expect you to-night, Ma’am. Did you not -purpose sleeping at Mouseton?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C.</span> The inn was chock-full.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cramp.</span> But how came you to be on foot? You never have -walked all the way! Where is your conveyance? It would be of the -utmost service to me.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C.</span> Smashed on the road.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cramp.</span> Well, if all the gigs and cabs in England are not in -coalition against me this day! And where is your luggage?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C.</span> Coming. You did not expect me to carry it on my back, -like a snail, did ye?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> Miss Cob, like an experienced general, leaves her baggage -in the rear.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> I should rather have expected to find it in the <em>van</em>. You -are very wet, Ma’am; shall I help you off with your cloak?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C.</span> O never mind. I’m neither sugar nor salt; only it’s a -plaguy thing to have one’s dress so long, walking through such a -bog.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] How <em>long</em> she may have had her dress, I know -not; but in one sense I am sure it is short enough.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C.</span> This seems a good big house, but rather too much like a -prison. Have you those bars on all the windows?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cramp.</span> On all.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C.</span> And how many men-servants do you keep?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cramp.</span> None at all. [<i>Aside.</i>] What impertinent curiosity!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] Shall I venture to address her again? I can -scarcely command myself. [<i>Aloud.</i>] Pray, Ma’am, are you fond of -music?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C.</span> I’m a regular dab at it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> What instrument do you play?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C.</span> All sorts of instruments, from the drum to the Jew’s harp.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> You don’t play the cornopion?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C.</span> Like bricks,—and sing all the time. You shall hear me -to-morrow. [<i>All stare in mute amazement.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cramp.</span> May I trouble you, Ma’am, to let me see your letter of -introduction from Lady Myres again?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C.</span> Heartily welcome. You will read all about me there. -Full details of manners and accomplishments. She says I’m a little -absent sometimes; so if ever I make a few trifling blunders, I hope -you’ll set them down to that score.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> [<i>Aside to <span class="smcap">Wriggles</span>.</i>] I wish she were absent now, for -I think I shall die in convulsions.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C.</span> I’ll teach you all sorts of things suitable for a lady. -Knitting, netting,—crow—crowfoot ...</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> I see that nothing is beyond your apprehension.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C.</span> What do you say about <em>apprehension</em>? Are you a police -officer?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> No, Madam, I am a humble Professor of Geography, -Geology, Algebra, and ...</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C.</span> O I’m a match for you in all that, and I know Latin, Greek, -and American besides.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> And what tongue, Madam, do you prefer?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C.</span> O I’m not particular about those sort of things; but if -you want my opinion, why I think pickled tongues are excellent.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> [<i>Turning away laughing.</i>] This is either too bad or too -good! [<i>Aloud.</i>] And your other studies, Ma’am?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C.</span> As for Arithmetics, they’re at my fingers’-ends.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> I have not yet got beyond the Rule of Three.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C.</span> You shall know the Rule of Four-and-twenty, before I -have done with you. We’ll skip the 4, 5, and 6.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> And the Rule of Three inverse?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C.</span> In verse? Yes, you shall have it in all sorts of verse, -merry, tragical, and comical.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] I shall expire with laughter. [<i>Retires to the -window.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wrig.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] I really cannot stand this any longer. [<i>Follows -her.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scull</span> (the artist). Pray, Madam, may I venture to ask if you -paint?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C.</span> You are a very impudent fellow, to ask a gentle—woman -if she paints. Do I look as if I painted?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scull.</span> I beg a million pardons, Ma’am, but as I paint myself ...</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C.</span> You paint precious badly then, for you’re as yellow as a -cowslip!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cramp.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] Is the woman intoxicated or insane?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scull.</span> I think—I imagine that there is a little misapprehension, -Ma’am, on your part. My vocation is that of an artist.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> O Miss Cob, you must see his sketches.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scull.</span> You see, Ma’am, there is a new work to come out at -Christmas, which is to be entitled,—<cite>The Mouse on the Mantelpiece</cite>. -The letterpress is in very able hands,—a very pretty little fairy-tale -for grown-up children,—that’s all the rage now, you know, in this -enlightened age. But the illustrations will be the great thing. A -steel-plate frontispiece, of course, in which will be introduced a -number of winged mice in a variety of positions,—a very clever thing, -I can assure you; and then wood-cuts,—I have the honour of being -intrusted with the designs for them. We are to have a different -illustration for the top of every column.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> That will no doubt be <em>capital</em>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scull.</span> It will form a very elegant little volume altogether,—the -most remarkable publication of the day.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C</span>. Well, after my wet walk, I think I’d be the better for -something to warm me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> You shall have some tea directly, Ma’am.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C.</span> Tea! Wishy-washy stuff!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> Would you prefer gruel?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss C.</span> Gruel! I wish you joy of your fare!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] The fair Arithmetician looks as though she would -not have 3 <em>Scruples to a Dram</em>!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cramp.</span> I dare say Miss Cob is fatigued after her long walk. -Nelly, show her the apartment. I hope everything is comfortable -there.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nell.</span> Certainly, Papa. [<i>Aside to <span class="smcap">Wriggle</span>.</i>] At any rate, I will -venture to say that her room is better than her company. [<i>Exeunt -<span class="smcap">Nelly</span> and <span class="smcap">Miss Cob</span>.</i>]</p> - -</div> - -<p>And so on,—the wind-up of the story being that Miss -Cob is found to be a burglar in woman’s disguise; while -the artist is a harmless nobody. But elderly Wriggles, -the tutor, who has lived quietly in the house for a month -past, and of whom even Mr. Cramp has had no suspicions, -turns out to be the much dreaded nephew, and to -him by right Grimhaggard Hall now appertains. As, -however, he has managed to fall deeply in love with the -punning heroine, all difficulties are solved by their -marriage,—Nellie being equally in love with him. Thus -the nephew gains the old home, and the uncle does not -lose it.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="I_CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1849-1853<br /> -THE FIRST GREAT SORROW, AND THE FIRST BOOK</span></h3> - -<p>It must have been at about this time that Charlotte became -increasingly anxious for more of definite outdoor work -among the poor. Her wish was to be allowed to visit in -the Marylebone Workhouse; but difficulties for a while -barred her way. Mr. Tucker objected strongly, fearing -the risk of infectious diseases for his daughters; and no -doubt the risk in those days was far greater than in these, -considering the then condition of Workhouses generally.</p> - -<p>So long as permission was refused, Charlotte seems to -have contented herself with the simple duties of home-life. -She was not one who would restlessly fight for and insist -upon her own way at all costs, under the plea of doing -what was right. Rather, one may be sure, she counted the -prohibition as in itself sufficient indication of the Divine -Will. However, while submitting, she probably used from -time to time some little pressure to bring about another -state of things; and somewhere about the beginning of -1851 her parents’ ‘reluctant consent’ was, we are told, at -length given. From that time she and Fanny visited -regularly in the Workhouse.</p> - -<p>In 1849 Charlotte’s eldest sister, Sibella, was married to -the Rev. Frederick Hamilton, for some time Curate to Mr. -Garnier, the Vicar of Holy Trinity Church, which they all -regularly attended. Mr. Garnier and his wife, Lady<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> -Caroline, were especial friends of Charlotte, through many -a long year. Thus the first break in the charmed circle of -sisters was made; and Fanny was now ‘Miss Tucker,’ -Charlotte being the second home-daughter.</p> - -<p>Until the spring of 1850 Mr. Tucker kept his health -and vigour to a marvellous extent for a man eighty years -old,—for one too who had worked more or less hard -through life from the age of fourteen or fifteen. He still -attended to his India House business, not seeming to find -it too much for his strength; and in the April of that year, -after making a speech in Court, he was congratulated by -a brother-Director upon the force and energy with which -he had spoken. ‘Ah,’ he replied, ‘it is only the last -flicker of the taper before it goes out.’</p> - -<p>No one had noticed aught to be wrong with him, but -perhaps he had himself been conscious of failing power. -Soon afterwards a sharp attack of fever and inflammation -laid him low, and most serious fears for his life were felt. -It was a time of terrible suspense to his own family; not -least so to Charlotte, who had always loved him with an -intense devotion. Probably few fathers are quite so -devotedly beloved as was old Mr. Tucker; but not many -men, and especially not many men of his years, can throw -themselves into the interests and amusements of their -children, as he was able to do.</p> - -<p>They had till then hardly realised how suddenly -the call might come. As his biographer says, he had -been always ‘so full of life, there had been so much -activity of body, so much energy of mind, so much -elasticity of spirit, that they had never associated with all -this vitality a thought of the stillness of death.’ Now, -without warning, the foe was at their very door; and the -shadow of his great danger weighed heavily upon them all.</p> - -<p>In answer to many prayers he was given back to them -again, just for a little while. But they could never quite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> -forget how nearly he had been taken from them, how -unexpectedly the great separation might come.</p> - -<p>Another event of 1850 was the marriage of Charlotte’s -brother, William Tucker, at Brussels. It came almost -immediately upon Mr. Tucker’s rally from his severe -illness; and Charlotte had the pleasure of being taken -to Brussels for the wedding by her brother, St. George -Tucker, then home for a short time from India. It -would be interesting to know her first impressions of the -Continent, but not many letters of this date are available. -The two which follow are among the last belonging to her -unshadowed younger life, before the true meaning of loss -and sorrow had dawned upon her. One black cloud had -gathered and dispersed; but it was soon to roll up again; -and then the storm would break.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Oct. 3, 1850.</i></p> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Dearest Laura</span>,—We have finished the volume of stories -which we were reading—which by the way resembled the pottles of -strawberries sold in the streets, capital at the beginning, but as one -gets further on, miserably inferior—and now Fanny has gone to her -dear Will-making, so I keep her pen in company by writing to you. -I soon knocked off my Will, and we have just the same sum to -dispose of, but her large sheets of paper are not covered yet.</p> - -<p>‘Now what shall I write to you about, dear—for we write so -often that it is impossible that we should often have much to write -about? The sun shines one day, and does not shine another; the -sea is rough one morning and calm the next. I may have to follow -the style of Letitia in her well-known note, “sometimes we pass -Fummity, and sometimes we do not.” Things go on quietly, nothing -changed but my half-sovereign. I had to buy new ribbons for -Letitia to-day, and fear that I shall have to supply the children with -fresh gloves.</p> - -<p>‘I have been reading about our poor friend, the first of the -Blacks, to-day; and it appears that his character was very fairly drawn -by Miss Martineau. I was glad to know a little about the after -doings in Hayti, and find that Dessalines—that fierce fellow, husband -of Theresa—was made first Emperor, and killed in about two years. -He was a great savage, but his wife an amiable lady. Then came<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> -King Henri I.—our friend Christopher the Cook—who was king at the -time that my informant wrote, that is to say, in 1819. A famous king -he seems to be, or have been, with a good palace, standing army of -25,000 men kept in strict discipline, a hereditary aristocracy—all of -the colour of coal—and ecclesiastical establishment. He was considered -in person very much like King George III.—barring complexion, -I suppose—and, in short, that part of Hayti which owned -him for king seemed in a very flourishing condition in 1819.</p> - -<p>‘Do you remember the name of Thaurepas (?), the blacky General -who weakly surrendered his post to the French? What do you think -the grateful Monsieurs did to him? Nailed epaulettes on his shoulders -and a cocked hat on his head, and then threw him with his wife -and children into the sea! Would one believe such things of men -in the 19th century? I should like to know something of the present -state of Hayti, and whether the throne is filled by a son of Henri I., -for I suppose that Christopher is hardly living still. If he were, -would you not like to have his autograph?</p> - -<p>‘I have told you all this about Hayti, because I thought that, like -myself, you would be pleased to know what really became of the -characters in Miss Martineau’s Romance, and one seldom meets -with a book which throws any light upon such an out-of-the-way -subject.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Oct. 18, 1850.</i></p> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Dearest Laura</span>,—We have been luxuriating in the letters from -Paris.... All things look so bright and joyous! I have twice sung -“The World is so Bright” to-day <i lang="it">con amore</i>, and my heart is so -lightsome that I could dance. I do not think that I have <em>once</em> seen -precious Father dull since my return. He desires me to say that he -cannot quite countenance a visit to Lebanon. It is rather too far, -and Lord Ellesmere was very ill on his way thither; so dear —— must -give up her Blackbeard, and content herself with Sir Peter. -Now Mamma is reading St. George’s note. Papa is smiling away,—his -dear lips apart. He looks so nice in Clara’s beautiful cap!</p> - -<p>‘Henry thinks so much of you, dear. He says that you are a -sweet girl, and that he loves you extremely. I cannot tell you all -the kind things he says of you....</p> - -<p>‘We are such a comfortable party, and our loved absent ones help -to make us more so.... This is a very disconnected sort of note, a -sort of patchwork, for my ears are as much employed as my hand, -and I have every now and then a message to darn in,—then, O my -chilblains! But I am determined to complain of nothing, for I am<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> -so overloaded with blessings. Dearest Parents are just going -out. The weather is delicious. The world is so bright, the world -is so fair! Yes, even now, when she has only a wreath of dahlias, -and decks herself in yellow like the sweet little Blossom!...</p> - -<p>‘I should like to think that our dear trio are enjoying themselves -as much at Paris as I am at home. I hope and trust that -we may all have such a happy winter together, when “Love’s -shining circlet” has all its gems complete except the dear Indian -absentees.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>This was written in the autumn following Mr. Tucker’s -dangerous illness. After a long and tedious convalescence, -his health had steadily improved through the summer -months, and during the autumn he seemed to be almost -himself again,—able to walk out regularly, able to read -much and thoroughly to enjoy being read to by his wife -and daughters. In the evenings he would delight in their -music, varied by merry talk and by an occasional rubber -of whist.</p> - -<p>With the coming of winter acute neuralgic pains took -possession of him; and though some little improvement -was seen with the advent of spring, it was not permanent. -In the end of May 1851 he was taken to Brighton for a -few days’ change; after which he became worse and then -again better. Amid these fluctuations, which included at -times very severe suffering, his manly courage and patience -were never known to fail.</p> - -<p>On the tenth of June he seemed so far improved as to -talk of going next day to the India House, for the -Wednesday’s Council. The Doctor strongly opposed this; -and Mr. Tucker went instead to a Flower-Show, with his -daughters. For two days afterward he seemed particularly -well. On Friday night there was no apparent change for -the worse; and his usual tender good-night to them all -had in it no shadow of approaching calamity.</p> - -<p>But the end was at hand. Before morning sharp illness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> -had seized upon him; and before twelve o’clock he had -passed away.</p> - -<p>It was a heavy blow to all who knew him; above all to -his wife and children. He had been the very life of the -house, the very spring of home-brightness. Charlotte’s -little niece, Bella Frances, daughter of the elder brother, -Henry Carre Tucker, came to spend her first English -holidays in the house, not long after Mr. Tucker’s death, -and she found the whole family ‘plunged in gloom,’—Charlotte -Tucker being exceedingly sad and grave. The -only one, indeed, of the whole party who was able to -speak cheerfully was Laura. It is probable that Laura -had at that date a dawning outside interest in her life, not -possessed by any of the others, which may have enabled -her to bear up somewhat better than they could.</p> - -<p>Many months earlier, after the sharp illness of the -preceding year, Mr. Tucker had written a letter to all his -children, thanking them for their ‘late unwearied and -devoted attentions’ to him. After desiring them ‘not to -give way to strong emotions,’ he had gone on to say,—‘I -have reached a very advanced age, and must be prepared -for a change. Old age has its infirmities and suffering, -and a prolonged existence is not to be desired. Your -care should now be to comfort and console your beloved -mother, who has been everything to me and everything -to you all. I trust that she will not leave this house, in -which we have all enjoyed so much happiness; and I feel -assured that you will all tenderly watch over her, and -contribute by every means in your power to her future -comfort.’</p> - -<p>This wish was fulfilled. Mrs. Tucker never did leave -No. 3 Upper Portland Place, except of course for -necessary change. It remained her home, and the -home of her daughters, from the year 1851, when her -husband died, until her own death in the year 1869.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> - -<p>How much of life’s sunshine had been swept out of -Charlotte’s life by the loss of her Father, it is perhaps -impossible for any one to estimate who did not personally -know Mr. Tucker. Not that <em>all</em> her sunshine had -departed! Apart from her own inherent elasticity of -spirit, she was devotedly attached to her Mother; and she -had still the tender and satisfying companionship of Laura.</p> - -<p>That while deeply saddened, she was not crushed, is -shown by the following letter to her little niece, Bella F. -Tucker, dated August 9, 1851:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘The sun has been shining so beautifully lately, and the reapers -have been busy in the fields. It is a sight to warm the heart, to see -the yellow sheaves covering the land, and we should bless God for -an abundant harvest. There is a clover-field near us, and it looks -like a beautiful carpet of lilac and green. I was calculating that -there must be more than two million blossoms in that one field; and -each blossom may be perhaps the home of many insects.... Then -what is that field compared to all England, or England to Europe, or -Europe to the whole world? Neither your little head, nor the wisest -man’s, can imagine how many blossoms and how many insects there -are on this great globe,—it makes one almost giddy to think of it,—and -then to consider that all the world itself is only like a speck in -God’s Creation, that there are said to be <em>eighty millions</em> of fixed stars, -each of which has very likely worlds moving round it. And God -made all. How very great and wonderful He must be! It seems -surprising that He should care for every one on this little ball,—how -much more astonishing that He should have condescended to come -and live upon it, to have appeared as a feeble Child in one of the -worlds that He had made, and then actually to <em>die</em>, like one of the -creatures that He had formed! Is not God’s power wonderful, and -His love more wonderful still?</p> - -<p>‘When you look at the bright blue sky, do you never long to fly -up like the birds,—no, much higher than the birds can fly, to your -Home, to your Father which is in Heaven? I hope that time may -come, sweet Bella, but now is the time to prepare. I sometimes -think that this life is our school-time. We are now to learn lessons -of faith and patience and love. When our education is finished we -shall be allowed to go Home; and Death will be the gentle Messenger<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> -to say,—“Your Heavenly Father sends for you; come and join your -loved ones who have gone before. O that will be joyful, when we -meet to part no more!”’</p> - -</div> - -<p>There is a tone of quiet sadness running through the -letter, in marked contrast with those joyous epistles to her -sister Laura quoted earlier in this chapter. The world -could never again be to her ‘so bright, so fair!’ as in the -days when her Father was still upon earth. No doubt as -time went on the buoyancy of her temperament reasserted -itself; but life was no longer unshadowed; and other -troubles soon followed.</p> - -<p>One of these must certainly have been the marriage of -her sister Laura, though no letters are at hand to show -what she felt. Mr. Otho Hamilton, elder brother to the -Rev. Frederick Hamilton, who had married Charlotte’s -eldest sister, sought Laura’s hand; and he was accepted.</p> - -<p>Not entirely without hesitation. Perhaps few girls can -say, or ought to say, ‘Yes’ at once, without time for consideration. -When the offer came, Laura’s first impulse -was, naturally, to go to her Mother for advice; her second -impulse was to go to her friend-sister. It is not hard to -realise what the thought must have been to Charlotte of -losing this dearly-loved companion,—her room-mate and -the constant sharer of her thoughts and interests from very -infancy; nor is it difficult to believe how bravely she -would put aside the recollection of herself, viewing the -question from Laura’s standpoint alone. It must, however, -be remembered that Charlotte was romantically enthusiastic -on the subject of others’ engagements, and was through -life ardently interested in the marriages of her friends. -In the present case her knowledge of how highly her -Father had thought of Mr. Hamilton would be an -additional incentive to put no obstacle in the way. It -seems that Laura’s hesitation had arisen, not from any -doubt as to her own feelings, but simply from a desire to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> -be sure of her duty. The engagement took place; and -on the 19th of October 1852, Laura Tucker became Mrs. -Hamilton. So another leaf was turned in the story of -Charlotte’s life.</p> - -<p>And now, in the very midst of these changes and losses -arose a new interest. Hitherto, Charlotte had written a -good deal, but she had never published, perhaps had never -even thought of publishing. What first led her to adopt -the style of fiction, by which she was soon to become -known, it is possible at least to conjecture. In 1850, as -we have seen, she wrote another of her merry plays, full of -fun and humour. Now, suddenly, she seems to have -plunged into the line of children’s stories, having each a -very prominent ‘purpose,’—her earliest being <cite>The Claremont -Tales</cite>. It may be that the shock of her first great sorrow, -the death of Mr. Tucker, making her to realise intensely -the shortness of life on earth, and the supreme weight of -things unseen, had the effect of turning her mind with a -new energy to the thought of doing good by means of -her pen. It may be also that, now <em>he</em> was gone for whom -and with whom she had written her plays, all zest in that -direction was gone with him, and the gift of writing, like -a river dammed up in one direction and forced to turn -elsewhere, sought naturally a fresh outlet,—an outlet with -which there should be no overpoweringly sad associations. -Moreover, the home-circle was no longer what it had been. -Two of the sisters, to whom she had read her plays, were -gone; and with the changed order of life came a new -order of writing.</p> - -<p>Exactly when she began or finished <cite>The Claremont -Tales</cite> is not known. With her usual reserve she at first -said nothing about the completed <span class="smcapuc">MS.</span>—beyond, at all -events, reading the stories to the children. Probably she -felt doubtful about her own venture; and some little time -seems to have passed before she showed it to her Mother.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> -Mrs. Tucker was much delighted with the attempt, said -at once that it ought to be published, and insisted on -action being taken.</p> - -<p>So, on November 19, 1851, the <span class="smcapuc">MS.</span> was sent to Messrs. -W. and R. Chambers, with the accompanying letter:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—It has for some time been my anxious desire to add my -mite to the Treasury of useful literature, which you have opened to -the young as well as the old.</p> - -<p>‘The Tales which I now venture to offer to you for publication -were originally composed for young children under my own charge, -and were listened to with an appearance of interest, which gives me -hopes that they may meet with no unfavourable reception from others -of the same tender years.</p> - -<p>‘I ask for no earthly remuneration; my position in life renders -me independent of any exertions of my own; I pray but for God’s -blessing upon my attempts to instruct His lambs in the things which -concern their everlasting welfare; and deeply gratified should I feel, -were my little work to be classed among the numerous valuable -publications which you have already given to the world.</p> - -<p>‘The Tales might be printed separately, as each forms a complete -story, though all are united by connecting links.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The date is given, but no name and no address; and -a letter more quaintly stiff and unbusiness-like can surely -never have won a Publisher’s smile. To return the <span class="smcapuc">MS.</span> -to herself, if disapproved of, was not possible; and, as it -happened, <cite>The Claremont Tales</cite> did not belong to the class -of publications undertaken by Messrs. Chambers. Very -kindly, however, they passed it on to the house of Messrs. -Gall and Inglis; and by them the little book was brought -out. One can imagine how eagerly Charlotte, while preserving -her strict incognita, must have watched for the -possible appearance of her Tales, and how delighted she -would be to see the name advertised. When this occurred, -she wrote again—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<i>May 24, 1853.</i></p> - -<p>‘A. L. O. E. presents her compliments to Messrs. Gall and Inglis, -and, admiring the elegant form in which they have presented <i>The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> -Claremont Tales</i> to the public, is happy to offer to them for publication -the accompanying volume of poems,—asking no further -remuneration than 20 copies of the work, when printed, for <em>gratuitous</em> -distribution. A. L. O. E. proposes sending a few copies of her poems -to the principal Reviews, as a means of extending their circulation.</p> - -<p>‘A. L. O. E. would be glad to know whether Messrs. Gall and -Inglis propose adopting her suggestion of printing some or all of -<cite>The Claremont Tales</cite> in a <em>very cheap</em> form, for distribution amongst -poor children, Ragged Schools, etc.</p> - -<p>‘Any communication will be received by the Authoress, if addressed -to—“Miss Aloe; care of Miss Lanzun; S——; Middlesex.”</p> - -<p>‘<i>P.S.</i>—Miss —— would much like to know whether <cite>The Claremont -Tales</cite> were first placed in the hands of Messrs. Gall and Inglis by -Messrs. Chambers, to whom she originally sent them; and whether -Messrs. Gall and Inglis have any professional connection with those -Publishers, so distinguished in the field of literature. Should Messrs. -Gall and Inglis not wish themselves to undertake the publication of -a volume of poetry, they are at perfect liberty to submit the work -to Messrs. Chambers. An early answer will oblige.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Three months later comes another letter, still further -relaxing her secrecy, and still on the subject of the -‘volume of poems’:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<i>August 6, 1853.</i></p> - -<p>‘Miss C. M. Tucker presents her compliments to Mr. Inglis, and -begs to acknowledge the receipt this morning of his obliging communication -to Miss A. L. O. E., which <i lang="fr">nom de guerre</i>, in compliance -with his wish, and in reliance on his promise to preserve her -incognita, she now exchanges for her own.</p> - -<p>‘Miss C. M. Tucker is now at the seaside, and is therefore unable -personally to communicate with Mr. Inglis. She requests, -however, that he will continue to direct any letters to S——, to the -care of Miss Lanzun.</p> - -<p>‘Miss C. M. Tucker is much pleased to learn that her little work -has been favourably received in America. She will be very happy -to write such an addition to <cite>The Fortress</cite>, as may make it equal in -length to its companion tales.</p> - -<p>‘As Mr. Inglis’ objection to publishing <cite>The White Shroud</cite>, etc., -seems only to rest upon the shortness of the poems, Miss C. M. -Tucker would have no objection to sending a larger book of her -poetry, from which Mr. Inglis might select what he thought likely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> -to please the public. Miss C. M. Tucker has written an Epic on -the eventful Life of St. Paul, and a variety of other pieces. Would -Mr. Inglis wish them forwarded to Scotland, or to his present -address in London? Miss C. M. Tucker herself selected <cite>The -White Shroud</cite>, as she thought it one of those most likely to be -popular, and perhaps most calculated to be useful. The <em>name</em> might -attract readers, who would not glance at what appeared from its -title to be exclusively religious. It would also be well adapted for -illustration; but that Miss C. M. Tucker leaves entirely to the taste -and judgment of Messrs. Gall and Inglis, only suggesting that -perhaps the commencement of winter might be a favourable time -for such a work of Fancy to make its appearance, when it might -take its place among the elegant little volumes designed for Christmas -remembrances.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Others were disposed to take a different view as to -the peculiar attractiveness of such a name as <cite>The White -Shroud</cite>, and when the volume was published it came out -as <cite>Glimpses of the Unseen</cite>.</p> - -<p>A first interview between Charlotte and one of her -Publishers, recalled by some of the family, probably took -place at about this date, or not very long afterwards. -She is said to have been shy on seeing him, though not -commonly supposed to suffer from shyness. In any case -it is to be hoped that few Authors are, at first starting, -so absolutely convinced of their own powers as not to -go through certain twinges of bashfulness.</p> - -<p>One copy of <cite>The Claremont Tales</cite> was sent out to her -brother, Mr. St. George Tucker, who was again in India, -and had recently gone to Azimgurh. When the book -arrived, he sat up reading it until past one o’clock in the -morning; no small compliment to a young Author. He -then despatched a messenger on horseback to Benares, -with the volume,—a ride of sixty miles,—that his brother, -Mr. Henry Carre Tucker, might with all speed enjoy the -same pleasure. Charlotte, hearing this through her Mother, -was not a little gratified.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> - -<p>Thenceforth Charlotte went steadily in for Authorship. -Volume after volume flowed from her fertile pen; most -of them for children; many of them exceedingly amusing; -all of them definitely designed to teach something. One -is rather disposed to fancy that in the writing of these -books there may have been, in the beginning, something -of a struggle. Charlotte was by nature ambitious; and -her literary gift was considerable; and some of its potentialities -appear to have been sacrificed to her ardent -desire for usefulness. Whether she ever could or would -have made her mark in any of the higher walks of -literature is a question which could only have been -decided by actual experiment; but at least she must -have felt it to lie within the bounds of possibility. Some -people may think that her desire for usefulness was a -little too ardent in its manifestation, since it led to so -extremely didactic a mode of writing as that of many -among her books. No one can deny that some of the -said volumes do contain a large amount of direct ‘preaching’; -not merely of life-lessons, interwoven with the story -in such wise that the one could not be read and the -other missed, but rather of little sermons so alternating -with the story that a child might read the latter and -skip the former. Probably, most children, when reading -to themselves, did follow this plan. Directness to a fault -was, however, a leading characteristic of Charlotte all -through life. The same tendency,—many would say in -plain terms, the same mistake—is apparent in the later -years of her Indian work, in the mode of her Zenana -teaching.</p> - -<p>With respect to her writings, nothing is more impossible -than to gauge correctly the amount of comparative good -worked in any age, by different books or different styles -of composition. That which makes the most stir, that -which has the greatest apparent success, is by no means<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> -always the most wide in its influence. Some of us -may be inclined to think that A. L. O. E. might have -reached a larger circle, might have gained a more extensive -influence, if she had less anxiously pressed so -very much didactic talk into her tales,—if too she had -more studiously cultivated her own dramatic instincts, and -had more closely studied human nature. All this we are -quite at liberty to believe. For the question as to ‘doing -good’ through a book does not rest upon the amount of -religious teaching which may be packed into a given -number of printed pages, but rather upon the force with -which a certain lesson is presented, with or without many -words. There is no especial power in an abundance of -words; rather the reverse!</p> - -<p>But the main gist of the matter as regarded Charlotte -herself lies outside all these questions. It is found in -the simple fact that she determinately stamped down -her own personal ambitions, and bent her powers with a -most single heart to this task of ‘doing good’; that she -resolutely yielded herself and her gifts to the Service of -her Heavenly Father, desiring only that His Name might -be honoured in what she undertook. Whether she always -carried out this aim in the wisest manner is a secondary -consideration. From the literary and artistic point of -view, one may say that she undoubtedly did make some -mistakes. From the standpoint of a simple desire to do -good, one may question whether she could not have done -yet more good by a different style of writing. But with -regard to the purity and earnestness of her desire, with -regard to the putting aside of personal ambitions, with -regard to the single-heartedness of her aims, there can -be no two opinions. And <span class="smcap">He</span> who looks on the heart, <span class="smcap">He</span> -who gauges our actions not by results but by the motives -which prompt them,—<span class="smcap">He</span>, we may well believe, honoured -His servant for her faithful work in His Service.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p> - -<p>Nor must we ignore the measure of marked success -which she certainly had, if one may judge from the speed -with which her books came out, and the demand which -apparently existed for them. Even in her most didactic -tales there are keen and witty touches, and droll descriptions. -For ‘teaching’ purposes her boys may sometimes -converse together as boys never do converse; but none the -less those boys are real, and they recur in after years to -the memory as only living people or vivid creations ever -do recur. In some of her rather higher flights, such as -<cite>Pride and his Prisoners</cite>, are to be found stirring scenes, -drawn with dramatic power.</p> - -<p>One thing should be noted: the curiously allegorical or -symbolical style of thought which was natural to her.</p> - -<p>It did not appear in the girlish dramatic efforts,—unless -in the direction of a perpetual play upon words,—but in -her published books it developed speedily. This was -remarkable in her; <em>not</em> because of any peculiar result from -it in England, but because of its very peculiar adaptation -to Indian needs. One may almost think of her authorship -in England as mainly a long preparation for her Indian -toil; the continuous practice in habits of imagery and -allegory, by no means especially suited to our Western -minds, gradually fitting her to deal with the Oriental mind, -little as she yet dreamt of any such destination for herself. -All these years, without knowing it, she was waiting for -and was working upward to ‘the Crown of her Life,’ as it -may be termed; those eighteen years in the Panjab. All -these years she was being prepared and made ready, till -she should be as a ‘sharpened instrument’ in the Hand of -her Master, fitted for the work which He would give her -to do.</p> - -<p>Among the many volumes published during the first -fifteen or twenty years of authorship were the following:—<cite>The -Giant-Killer</cite>, <cite>The Roby Family</cite>, <cite>The Young Pilgrim</cite>,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> -<cite>History of a Needle</cite>, and <cite>Rambles of a Rat</cite>, before 1858; -<cite>Flora</cite>, <cite>The Mine</cite>, <cite>Precepts in Practice</cite>, <cite>Idols in the Heart</cite>, -and <cite>Whispering Unseen</cite>, before 1860; <cite>Pride and his -Prisoners</cite>, <cite>The Shepherd of Bethlehem</cite>, <cite>My Neighbour’s -Shoes</cite>, <cite>War and Peace</cite>, <cite>Light in the Robber’s Cave</cite>, and <cite>The -Silver Casket</cite>, before 1864. A trio of volumes appeared in -succession, the first of which she wrote at her Mother’s -suggestion,—<cite>Exiles in Babylon</cite>, <cite>Rescued from Egypt</cite>, and -<cite>Triumph of Midian</cite>. Another trio, coming in due course,—<cite>Fairy -Know-a-Bit</cite>, <cite>Parliament in the Playroom</cite>, and <cite>The -Crown of Success</cite>,—were bright little books, containing a -good deal of useful information. Besides these were -published at intervals <cite>House Beautiful</cite>, <cite>Living Jewels</cite>, <cite>Castle -of Carlmont</cite>, <cite>Hebrew Heroes</cite>, <cite>Claudia</cite>, <cite>Cyril Ashley</cite>, <cite>The -Lady of Provence</cite>, <cite>The Wreath of Smoke</cite>, and very many -others.</p> - -<p>One of the most strongly allegorical of her earlier works -was <cite>The Giant-Killer</cite>; and in that little book she no doubt -made free use of her own experiences.</p> - -<p>It is easy to believe that she must have had many a -hard battle with Giant Sloth, before she gained the habit -of always rising at six o’clock in the morning, a habit -persevered in through life. Again, one of her eager and -impulsive temperament could not have been naturally free -from a clinging to her own way, and from a certain -vigorous self-seeking; and many a bitter conflict must have -been gone through, before friends could, with an all but -unanimous voice, speak of hers as a peculiarly unselfish -character. In the struggles of Fides to get out of the Pit -of Selfishness, we may read between the lines of Charlotte’s -girlish battlings.</p> - -<p>Even more, in the fight with Giant Pride we seem to see -her hardest tussle of all, and the mode in which victory -came to her. Giant Pride’s assumed name of ‘High -Spirit,’ his hatred of Meanness, Gluttony, Cowardice, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> -Untruth, are all an echo of parts of herself. The polishing -of the darkened gold of her Will she had long known in -the small unavoidable frictions of everyday life; and the -plunging of that Will into furnace-heat, and the straightening -of its crookedness by means of heavy successive -blows, she had begun to know in the death of her dear -Father, and would soon know more fully through other -sorrows coming after. But many more than three blows -were needed for the shapening of Charlotte Tucker’s Will. -She may have dreamt when she wrote the book that three -would be enough, and that the King’s call to Fides might -in her case be soon repeated. She little knew the long -years of toil and patience which stretched far ahead.</p> - -<p>A tiny glimpse of the daily fighting, which she like all -others had to go through, may be seen in the succeeding -letter, written to her sister, Laura, a year or two before the -death of old Mr. Tucker:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I obeyed you in putting your note into the fire, after twice perusing -it; but it seemed a shame so to destroy what was so sweet. How -little you and I have been with each other lately, yet I do not think -that we love one another one particle the less,—I think that I can -answer for myself at least. May God prosper your humble efforts, my -sweet Laura. I enter into all your feelings....</p> - -<p>‘I do not like to overload dear Bella with advice. It appears almost -presumptuous from a younger sister; but I threw in my word now -and then. But what am I?... I fear that I have been peevish with —— -to-day. I feel discontented with myself, and need your prayers.’</p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="I_CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1854-1857<br /> -CRIMEA, AND THE INDIAN MUTINY</span></h3> - -<p>In the year 1854 Mr. St. George Tucker again came -home from India; and in the autumn he took his Mother -and sisters for three months to The Mote, an old country -house about six miles north of Tonbridge, hoping that the -change would do good to Mrs. Tucker’s health and spirits. -Those were the terrible days of the Crimean War; and in -that autumn the battles of Balaclava and Inkerman were -fought. Several letters of interest belong to about this -period.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS BELLA F. TUCKER. 1853.</p> - -<p>‘I have found out a much better hero for you than your friend Lord -Marmion,—who, by-the-bye, had he lived in these days, would have -run a great chance of being transported for fourteen years, or -imprisoned for one with hard labour, for forgery. Mere courage does -not make a hero.... When I was about as old as you are now, I -had—besides Montrose, for whom I have a great regard still—a great -hero, a pirate! About as respectable a man perhaps as Lord -Marmion, and I was so fond of him, that I remember jumping out of -bed one night, when one of my sisters laughed at him.</p> - -<p>‘But I have grown older, dear, and have seen so many bubbles -break in my time that I am more on my guard. I look for something -more solid now. If you are allowed to read <cite>Uncle Tom’s Cabin</cite>, or -any part of it, pause when you have done, and compare the old negro -with Lord Marmion. You laugh at the idea. What!—“the falcon -crest and morion,”—“the scar on his dark brow”—will not all this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> -throw the poor ignorant thick-lipped hero quite into the shade? Yes,—if -a sparkling bubble is more glorious than a diamond shut up in a -black case. Time touches the bubble, and it breaks,—I have given -up my pirate-hero,—but the diamond—never mind the black case! -“Uncle Tom” is a hero, and one worthy of the name.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS HAMILTON—(LAURA).</p> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">The Mote</span>, <i>Sept. 1, 1854</i>.</p> - -<p>‘Your and your dear husband’s nice sunshiny notes reached me this -morning.... I believe that you are wise not to come here, for the -roads are very bad, and the climate not very bracing. Sweet Mother -says that it suits her very well, and I thrive on it like anything, but -not every one might be the better for “water, water everywhere.” We -have four pieces of water close by us, besides the moat just under our -windows. The Mote nestles so curiously in a hollow of the hill, that -when you have walked a few hundred yards from it, and naturally -turn round to look at the noble mansion which you have left,—it is -actually <i lang="la">non inventus</i>. You would not know that you were near the -Mote at all. “What has become of our great house?” say you. It -has vanished like Aladdin’s fairy palace.</p> - -<p>‘I feel sure that this is the identical old place that Mrs. D’Oyly -took us to see, where they said that some of the rooms had not -been opened for one hundred years. This suits me exactly. As the -boys say, “I am in clover.” Damp hurts me no more than if I were -a water-wagtail; but the same might not be the case with you....</p> - -<p>‘What a good thing it has been for your little darling being at so -healthy a place during the trying time of teething. I shall expect to -see her still more improved, when I have the pleasure of kissing her -sweet lips again. How diverting it will be to watch her when she first -runs alone!...</p> - -<p>‘Such nice letters from India! Dear Henry is having my Tales -translated into Hindustani, for the poor natives. Oh, pray, my -Laura, that a blessing may go with them. Dear Robin preaches to -upwards of a hundred blind, and bears the hot weather wonderfully -well.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">The Mote</span>, <i>Sept. 12, 1854</i>.</p> - -<p>‘Many thanks for your welcome letter, your good news, and your -kind invitation. I should not wonder if the last were very thankfully<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> -accepted some time next month; for it is quite uncertain whether the -L——s will let us remain here beyond the six weeks, and almost -quite certain that No. 3 will not be ready for us then, in which case -we had better scatter. The boys indeed talk of standing a siege here, -rather than give the place up; but you see we are afraid of treachery -in the camp, having so many of the L——‘s servants. Then we might -have difficulty about provisions, for we should all grow desperately -thin upon the fish which Charlie catches. Besides which, the moat -might be waded, although it is a doubtful point whether the wader -could get on through the weeds and mud. I think, all things considered, -that we had better <em>not</em> stand a siege.</p> - -<p>‘My heart can quite re-echo the cheerful tone of your note, love. -I do indeed feel that we are loaded with blessings. I enjoy this place -exceedingly, it is so pretty; just the place to “moon” about in. -Don’t you remember Mrs. D’Oyly taking us to see it, when we drove -here in two carriages, and you were with the sprightly, and I with the -sedate party? I feel sure that this was the identical old house. My -room ought to be haunted, only it is not. It is such a pity that you -have not the fairy carpet to come here without fatigue. But, as it is, -you serve as a magnet, to help to draw me back to Middlesex without -regret.</p> - -<p>‘Kind love to dear Mr. Hamilton, and twenty kisses to the Princess -of babies. I can well imagine the pleasure that she is to you—a -large lump of sugar in your cup!’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS BELLA F. TUCKER.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Dec. 12, 1854.</i></p> - -<p>‘We went to St. James’ Park to-day, to see Her Majesty on her -way to open Parliament. I had an excellent view of our poor dear -Queen; and the sight of her mournful subdued countenance, as she -bowed graciously to her people, but without the shadow of a smile, -quite touched my heart. This war weighs very heavily upon her; -and I am anxious to know whether she was able to get through her -speech without breaking down altogether. She looked to-day as -though it would have taken less to make her weep than laugh.</p> - -<p>‘How England is exerting herself to send comforts to her brave -sons in the Crimea! A lady was here to-day who, having seen that -books were thought desirable presents to the Army, made up a box -of them, which was to go to a Mr. S. who had offered to receive them. -But when her intended gift was known,—“O pray do not send any -more books!” was the poor receiver’s cry. “We have seventy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> -thousand volumes!” and they did not know how such a tremendous -library was to be forwarded. In the lint department, parcels came -in at the rate of two hundred a day! Good-bye.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Jan. 13, 1855.</i></p> - -<p>‘It is singular in how many ways last year I seemed to be taught -a lesson of patience. I was disappointed over and over and over -again. In one matter in which I was greatly interested, I was so at -least five times; but before the close of the year I had cause to say -with much pleasure,—“I am glad that I was disappointed.” Another -time I had a very heavy heart from a different source of disappointment; -and some months later I was grieved, even, I am half -ashamed to say, to tears; and yet before December was out I was -actually glad of both these disappointments, as well as the five others; -and a good appeared to spring from the evil. Now, if I am inclined -to be impatient,—and <em>very</em> impatient I am by nature,—I try to -remember my experience, and really to get the valuable lesson by -heart. I think it a good plan at the end of a year to review the -whole, to try and find out what especial lesson has been set one to -learn in it. I found it to be <em>praise</em> one year; last year <em>patience</em>. I -know not what it will be this year. I hope that—but no, I will not -write what I intended. Whatever is, is best. We have not to choose -our tasks, but to learn them.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>June 15, 1855.</i></p> - -<p>‘What news have I to give you? We have had a nice note from -dear Henry to-day, saying nothing about health, except that Robin is -well. St. G. and I have just come from a loiter at the Botanical -Gardens, which showed us that we need be under no great concern, -were hemp and flax exterminated from the vegetable world, and -silkworms to leave off being spinsters, as we could dress cheaply and -well on plantain fibre, have capital paper and excellent ropes, etc.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>In the August of 1855 she had the pleasure of going -with her brother, Mr. St. George Tucker, to the great -French Exhibition at Paris. This was the celebrated -occasion of the Queen’s visit to Napoleon, after the close -of the Crimean War; and Paris was thronged. So<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> -full was the place that rooms in Paris itself were not to be -had, and they went to an hotel in Versailles, occupying -apartments which had once been occupied by Louis -Napoleon. Charlotte’s warlike enthusiasm showed itself -in the fact that she was willing to pay twenty-five -francs apiece for seats at the Champs de Mars, where they -might witness the review of 45,000 French troops. When -Her Majesty had quitted Paris, it became possible to -obtain rooms at the Hôtel Bristol.</p> - -<p>From Versailles she wrote to Mrs. Hamilton, on the -21st of August:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Dearest Wifey</span>,<a name="FNanchor_5" id="FNanchor_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a>—You wished for a letter from France, so here -is one; but if you expect a description of what I have seen, I really -cannot undertake to give you even a <i lang="fr">précis</i>. Paris surpasses my -expectations. All in its gala dress as it is now, swarming with -people, crowded with soldiers, gay with fluttering flags and triumphal -arches,—it is really a sight in itself. The grand Exposition of pictures -is splendid; it is only too large. I was amused at it by a lady coming -up to me, and politely requesting me to inform her who Ophelia was. -An old French lady, looking at a picture of the burial of Harold, -and, I suppose, feeling that the subject might be painful to me -as a Saxon, politely assured me of her regret at that monarch’s -death! “Let bygones be bygones,” say I.</p> - -<p>‘Most of the French foot-soldiers are very little fellows, compared -to some of our troops; but amongst the Cavalry are very fine tall -men. The Zouaves are very heathenish-looking warriors. They -dress something like Turks, with all about their throats so perfectly -bare that they quite invite you to cut their heads off.</p> - -<p>‘St. G. and I so enjoyed this exquisite evening in the stately -gardens! A fine military band was performing, the people were -happily listening, little children skipping about, the glorious sunset -tints illuminating a palace fit for the “grand Monarch.”</p> - -<p>‘We have seen our Sovereign Lady three times, which was being in -great luck. I am rather tired of writing, so will only add kindest love, -and beg you to believe me your ever attached,</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">C. M. Tucker</span>.</p> - -<p><i>‘P.S.</i>—I told a fat funny little French baba to-day that I had a -niece younger than herself, and asked her if she would not like to see -her. The answer was unsatisfactory.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p> - -<p>The Crimean War was ended; and two years later came -the outbreak of the Indian Mutiny, with its awful carnage, -its heaps of slain, its tortured women and children, its -heroic determination, its dauntless courage. Then was -seen a Continent, lost apparently in one day, won back to -the British Crown by mere handfuls of indomitable men -facing armed myriads. Such a tale had never been told -before.</p> - -<p>If Charlotte’s patriotism had been stirred by the Crimean -struggle, this came nearer to her yet! She had five -brothers, all in India, all more or less in daily peril. Mr. -Henry Carre Tucker was Commissioner at Benares; Mr. -St. George Tucker was at Mirzapore; Mr. William Tucker -was in a less acutely unsafe position; Mr. Charlton -Tucker, after seeing his Colonel shot down, was for weeks -in hiding. All these escaped. But her early companion, -Robert,—the father of her ‘Robins,’—was among the -slain; and the three children, already long half-orphaned, -became now wholly orphaned.</p> - -<p>Robert Tucker’s remarkable powers, and his successes -at Haileybury, have been earlier spoken about. Naturally -of a serious and stern disposition, though not without -lighter traits, he had been a good deal saddened by -troubles, which no doubt resulted in the more complete -dedication of himself and all that he possessed to the -Service of his Divine Master. A short sketch of his life, -written by his sister Charlotte, and published by the -S.P.C.K., tells of his work at Futteypore, where for many -years he was Judge.</p> - -<p>About four years before the Mutiny he had written -home about the ‘extraordinary success’ which was attending -his Christian school, established and kept going -by himself. On Sundays he was in the habit of regularly -addressing a collected crowd of Natives; literally ‘the -poor, the maimed, the halt, the blind’; and he did not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> -teach them only, but also ministered liberally to their -bodily needs.</p> - -<p>In her little sketch Charlotte says of him,—‘Careless of -his own comfort, restricting his personal expenses to a very -narrow compass, he gave to the Missionary cause at the -rate of forty pounds monthly, and one year even more’; -adding that with ‘shrinking from ostentation’ he had -never given his name on these occasions. And again—‘It -was his deep and abiding sense of the debt which he -owed to his Saviour, which made the Judge devote not -only his substance but his heart and his soul to the Lord. -How deep was the gratitude which he expressed in these -words—“If every hair upon my head were a life, it would -be too little to sacrifice to the Lord Jesus Christ!”’</p> - -<p>A clue to many things in Charlotte’s own later life may -be perhaps found here. There can be no doubt that the -story of her brother’s self-denying life and tragical death -made a profound impression upon her mind. His example, -long after, was closely copied by this sister, when she too -‘restricted her personal expenses to a very narrow compass,’ -precisely as he had done, and with the same object, -that she might have the more to give away. Also his -energy in teaching was reflected by her own burning -desire, in old age, to speak on all occasions to the Natives -of their deepest needs, and never to miss an opportunity -of trying to lead some poor Hindu or Muhammadan to -Christ, always with the vivid sense upon her, when she -met man or woman, that the call to herself might come -before they could meet again, and so a second opportunity -might never recur. Another eighteen years had, however, -yet to elapse before she would go out to India, to follow in -his steps, and to render to Hindustan a loving return for -this ‘year of horrors.’</p> - -<p>In June 1857, like a thunder-clap, not indeed utterly -unforeseen but practically unexpected by the majority of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> -Englishmen, came the fearful outbreak; and for a while it -did really almost seem that the British Raj in India was -at an end. But those who thought so were soon to be -undeceived.</p> - -<p>When first the storm broke, Robert Tucker did not -expect to be himself one of its earlier victims. His brother, -Mr. St. George Tucker, says,—‘Robert was in high spirits -when the Mutiny broke out. He wrote to me that he had -seen a magnificent horse, and that if he could buy him, he -could ride from Futteypore to Delhi, and soon finish the -war. Robert was the Judge, and Sherer was the Magistrate. -Sherer decided that all the Europeans must leave -Futteypore and fly to Banda. Robert refused to leave -Futteypore, and said that his duty required him to protect -the Natives. The rest of the Europeans went off to Banda.’</p> - -<p>Many Native Christians fled also,—among others a -Native Catechist, Gopi Nath. He was taken by Muhammadans, -imprisoned and cruelly treated; and he it was -whose sinking courage was revived by the almost dying -words of the English boy-officer, Arthur Cheek, the -‘Martyr of Allahabad.’</p> - -<p>But with the spirit of a soldier, Robert Tucker, the -intrepid Judge of Futteypore, remained at his post, the -only European among countless Natives, bent still on doing -his duty.</p> - -<p>The night preceding the tenth of June he passed at his -Cutcherry or Office; and in the early morning news was -brought that his own house had been set on fire. He then -tried to collect some of the landholders, to protect the -Natives in the town, and their houses; but not all his -efforts could prevent the burning of the latter. His next -step was to ride off to the Jail, in the hope of securing the -prisoners; but he was too late, the prisoners having been -already set at liberty. Mr. Tucker fearlessly reprimanded -the Jail-Guard; whereupon the Guard, belonging to a bad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> -Cawnpore regiment, opened fire. Though every shot -missed, Mr. Tucker must then have seen that all was up. -Everything was in confusion; the Native officers would -not support him; and he stood absolutely alone.</p> - -<p>He rode to the Cutcherry, no man daring to intercept -him, and took up his position on the top; and for hours -he remained, fearless and calm, awaiting his death. The -day was intensely hot, causing him to suffer terribly from -thirst; and one of his horsekeepers at length brought him -some milk,—a deed of mercy, which shows that one man -at least was not devoid of gratitude.</p> - -<p>‘There he remained during that fearful day,’ wrote -Charlotte Tucker. ‘There, as evening was closing in, he -made his last lion-like stand, when the fanatic Musselmans, -bearing a green flag, the emblem of their faith, came in a -fierce crowd to attack him.’ How many he shot as they -advanced is not certain; some say twenty, or even thirty; -but at length one of his assailants shot him in the head, -and the moment he fell, they took courage to rush up the -stairs and to finish their work.</p> - -<p>For Robert Tucker himself, cut off though he was in the -very prime of life, there could be no regrets, except on the -score of all that he might have done, had he lived. No -man could be more ready than he was to go. But the blow -fell heavily on those who loved him; and though for nine -years he had not seen his children, whereby the sorrow to -them was softened, yet the loss to their future could not but -be great.</p> - -<p>‘So he fell,’ wrote one who had escaped; ‘and in his fall -the constant and fervent prayer of his latter days was -answered, for he fell at the post of duty. All who knew -him well mourn in him the loss of a true and noble friend, -generous even to prodigality, highly talented, a thorough -gentleman, and an upright judge.’</p> - -<p>Mention of this event was made at the time in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> -Journal Letter of Viscountess Canning,<a name="FNanchor_6" id="FNanchor_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> worth quoting in -addition to the above.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>’ ... The story of Futteypore is a strange one. The whole country -round was gone, and there was a large Sepoy guard in the treasury, -and every reason to believe they would rise, so all the Europeans -took to boats, and went away to safe stations down the river, and I -think to Banda. Only Mr. Tucker, the magistrate, would not stir, -and remained with fifty Sepoys and the treasury. He was son to the -late Director, Sir George Tucker,<a name="FNanchor_7" id="FNanchor_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> and was one of the four brothers -whose names we hear constantly, and he was as brave as a lion. -He had a deputy-magistrate—a Mohammedan—in a high position, -treated as a gentleman, and in as high a place as a native could -occupy, next to himself. To this man had been given a body of -mounted police, and he undertook to keep the country clear between -the great trunk road and the river for some distance. He did it -admirably, and took delight in it, and sent in detailed reports up to -the last. But when he heard of some more places being gone, he -suddenly returned to the treasury, to which his position gave him -access, dismissed the fifty Sepoys with a thousand rupees apiece, and -then attacked Mr. Tucker with all his police force. Mr. Tucker was -killed, after defending himself till he had killed with his own hand, -some say sixteen, some twenty men. I suppose he had a whole -battery of revolvers, and so kept his assailants at bay.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Though Robert was gone, other brothers of Charlotte -Tucker were still in hourly danger; and the pressure of -anxiety went on for months, as shown by letters of the -time.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS B. F. TUCKER.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Sept. 9, 1857.</i></p> - -<p>‘I need not say how I long for tidings from India. Most especially -do I desire news of Havelock’s precious little army. Upon its -success, humanly speaking, may hang the safety of all our beloved -ones in India.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Sept. 19, 1857.</i></p> - -<p>‘We are longing for our letters, but I do not think we shall get -them till Tuesday. Dearest Mother tries not to think more of India<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> -than she can help, and has, I am glad to say, given up reading the -papers, so we only give her the good part of the news verbally. I -could not endure to be kept in the dark myself. I go every day to -fetch the papers. I half live on them, and would far rather go without -a meal than not see them.... We heard from poor dear Mrs. Thornhill -to-day. She hopes that Henry and his wife are in Lucknow. Such -a hope is not worth much, one would think.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS B. F. TUCKER.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Sept. 21, 1857.</i></p> - -<p>‘God be with our brave and beloved ones! My heart feels very -low—worse than before the letters arrived. We hide from dear Grandmamma -that Mirzapore is threatened. She only knows that the -troops are there; not why they have been sent. N—— W—— has sent -his dear wife and children to Calcutta. He feels so desolate without -them, but takes the separation as a lesson from his Merciful Father to -set his affections more on things above.... Does not your heart -sicken for Lucknow?’</p> - -</div> - -<p>All through England hearts were ‘sickening for Lucknow,’ -at this time. But the Cawnpore-like catastrophe, dreaded -for Lucknow, did not come. The rescuing party mercifully -arrived in time. As months went by, the Mutiny was -stamped out from end to end of India; and no second -Tucker was added to the roll of England’s martyrs there.</p> - -<p>Just before the outbreak Mr. Henry Carre Tucker seems -to have requested that some copies of his sister’s books -might be sent out to him for distribution: and an -interesting letter was written by her on the subject to -Messrs. Gall and Inglis.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<i>July 17, 1857.</i></p> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—I am glad to hear that the box is likely soon to be on its way -to my dear brother. We have been in great anxiety on account of -him and his family, as Benares, the station of which he is the head, -with a population of 180,000, is one of the most wicked places in -India, a “holy city,” a stronghold of fanaticism. My brother has taken -a bolder part in upholding Missions, and spreading religious literature, -than almost any one else in the country; therefore, if Benares had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> -followed the example of Delhi, the terrible event might have been -attributed to his excess of zeal.</p> - -<p>‘The Almighty, to whom my brother attributes the glory, has -hitherto watched over Benares in so marked a manner, that it -remained quiet in the midst of disturbances; and my young niece has -bravely ridden through it by her father’s side, giving confidence to -the timid by her fearlessness.... But a few lines in the telegraph, -read aloud in Parliament, informs us that the troops in Benares had -risen at last, and been driven out of the city with great loss. I -await the next mail with intense anxiety. I have five brothers in -India.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>It is interesting to know that Mr. Henry Carre Tucker -devoted himself a year later to the task of helping -forward in every possible way Missionary work in India, -as a species of ‘Christian revenge’ for the death of Robert -and the sufferings of his countrymen. He took a leading -part in starting the ‘Christian Literature Society for India,’ -and was for a while himself its Honorary Secretary.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="I_CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1857-1865<br /> -LIFE’S EARLY AFTERNOON</span></h3> - -<p>One-half of the life of Charlotte Tucker was now over; a -quiet and uneventful life thus far. If we like, we may -mentally divide her story into four quarters, each about -eighteen years in length, corresponding to Early Morning, -Noontide, Afternoon, and Evening. The first eighteen -years of her Early Morning had been, perhaps, as bright -and cloudless as the existence of any girl could well be. -In the succeeding Noontide hours she had known still -much of brightness, though they included her first great -sorrow, and ended with her second. Also, in the course of -that Noontide she had entered upon her career of authorship, -with all its hopes and aims, its hard work and its -delights. Probably none who have not experienced it for -themselves can quite understand the fascinations of -authorship.</p> - -<p>Now she had passed her Noontide, and was entering on -the hours of early Afternoon. Eighteen years of that -Afternoon still lay between the dark days of the Indian -Mutiny and her own going out to India, for the Evening -of her Life,—the fourth and last eighteen years, which were -to be the fullest and the busiest of all her busy days.</p> - -<p>We have first to do with the earlier portion of the Third -Period; a period including much work, many interests, and -some deep griefs. Between 1857 and 1866, however, lay a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> -quiet stretch of everyday life, distinguished by no rocks or -rapids. The river flowed on peacefully for a while.</p> - -<p>Life at No. 3 continued much as it had been in years -past. Many friends were in and out, and were always -cordially welcomed. Mrs. Tucker, since her husband’s -death, had made one difference, in that she no longer gave -dinner-parties; but luncheons were in full swing, to any -extent; and Charlotte’s powers of entertaining were still in -abundant requisition.</p> - -<p>No better place can well be found than this for part -of a letter to A. L. O. E.’s nephew,—the Rev. W. F. T. -Hamilton, son of her favourite sister,—from Sir Francis -Outram, son of General Sir James Outram, of celebrated -memory.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<i>June 25, 1894.</i></p> - -<p>‘My recollections of No. 3 Portland Place and of its typically kind -inmates carry me back just half a century. But they are very clear, -though, I regret to add, only of a general and intangible character.</p> - -<p>‘Mr. Tucker I recall with grave respect, unmingled with awe, as -evidently one of the wisest and most influential of my Parents’ proved -friends. Mrs. Tucker retains an honoured place in memories of these -and later days as the kindest and most liberal of “old aunts,”—so she -desired me to designate her, and at once adopted me into her very -large circle of favoured nephews and nieces,—the inexhaustible -source of varied goodnesses, especially such as were of the most -approved edible nature.</p> - -<p>‘Their sons I cannot recall, except as the genial and trusty friends -of later life. But the five daughters of the house none of us who enjoyed -their unselfish kindness at all stages of our youth can ever forget.</p> - -<p>‘Of the two who ere long became successively “Miss Tucker,” -however, you would alone wish me to speak. They cannot be dissociated -in the memory of the generations of young people, whose -privilege it was to be entertained and gratified by their unwearied -attention throughout many a long holiday afternoon and evening, -while stuffed by Mrs. Tucker <i lang="la">ad libitum</i> with all the best things of the -season.</p> - -<p>‘As we grew older, we not only more fully understood the exceptional -boundlessness of old-fashioned hospitality and kindness which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> -that house and household exemplified thoroughly, but we came to -understand somewhat of the heart-source whence issued that truest -manifestation, of “everyday religion,” which evidences itself in an -absolutely unselfish consecration,—consistent, unreserved, and essentially -practical,—for everyday wear, and not only under “stimulating -environments.” Such was the life’s lesson which our association with -these two now ageing sisters suggested to us.</p> - -<p>‘Miss Charlotte had, as you know, much of the Romantic in her -composition.... In person she was always slight, and somewhat -fragile-looking. Indeed, both she and Miss Fanny gave one the -impression of being too incessantly though quietly busy about -everything that promoted the happiness of other people, to ever -become stout, or to cultivate dress and appearances, beyond what -was consistent with the aims and duties and requirements of a fully -occupied home-life.</p> - -<p>‘Mrs. Tucker could not quite keep pace with the new-fashioned -unconventionalities of “young-lady work” in London; and one -of the object-sermons, which most impressed me in my College -days, was the beautiful self-restraint which these two sisters—no -longer young—imposed upon themselves, in deference to their aged -Mother’s wishes, in regard to that outside work which inclination, or -one might say conviction, as well as opportunity and qualifications, -impelled them to participate in.</p> - -<p>‘Still the unbounded hospitality of the “open house” in Portland -Place went on; and still they were content to devote their time, -talents, and energies to successive generations of juveniles and elder -guests, without a murmur.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>One can well believe that the self-restraint had to be -severe in Charlotte’s case, with her abounding energies, -and her eager desires for usefulness. But she patiently -abided her time; and she did not wait in vain. These -were years of quiet preparation.</p> - -<p>In appearance at this time Charlotte was, as ever, tall -and thin,—decidedly tall, her height being five feet six -inches, or two inches over her Mother’s height, and only -one inch short of her Father’s. She had still as of old -a peculiarly elastic and springy mode of walking; and -while possessing no pretensions to actual good looks,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> -there was much charm of manner, together with great -animation. Still, as ever, she threw herself energetically -into the task of entertaining others, no matter whether -those ‘others’ were young or old, attractive or uninteresting. -This at present was a main duty of her life, and -she never neglected or slurred it. Still, as ever, she was -guided and restrained by her Mother’s wishes, yielding -her own desires when the two wills, or the two judgments, -happened to lie in opposite directions.</p> - -<p>Although not really fond of work, Charlotte was a -beautiful knitter. She would make most elaborate antimacassars, -of delicate lace-like patterns, invented by her -own busy brain; and while working thus she was able -to read Shakespeare aloud. Her Father had loved Shakespeare, -and Charlotte had early caught the infection of this -love, never afterwards to lose it.</p> - -<p>Visiting in the Marylebone Workhouse went on -steadily; she and Fanny usually going together, until -Fanny’s health began to fail, which was probably not -until after 1864.</p> - -<p>Fanny was <i lang="fr">par excellence</i> the gentle sister; very sweet, -very unselfish; always the one who would silently take -the most uncomfortable chair in the room; always the -one to put others forward, yet in so quiet and unobtrusive -a fashion that the fact was often not remarked until -afterwards. Of Charlotte it has been said by one who -knew her intimately,—‘I wonder whether before the -year 1850 any one has described her as “gentle.”’ The -gentleness, which was with Fanny a natural characteristic, -had to be a slow after-growth with the more vehement -and resolute younger sister. Many a sharp blow upon the -golden staff of her Will was needful for this result.</p> - -<p>As an instance of Fanny’s peculiar gentleness, it is told -that one Sunday, when she saw a man trying to sell -things, she went up and remonstrated with him, speaking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> -very seriously, but in so mild and courteous a manner, -so entirely as she would have spoken to one who was -socially on her own level, that he was utterly unable to -take offence. She was also very generous, giving liberally -to the poor out of her limited dress-allowance, in earlier -girlish days. This same generosity was a marked feature -in the character of Charlotte; perhaps especially in later -years.</p> - -<p>Fanny was of middle height, and thin, with dark eyes; -very neat and orderly in her ways, wherein she was the -opposite of Charlotte, who was famed for untidiness in -her arrangements. Charlotte was, however, methodical -in plans of action, and in literary work; and later in life -she seems to have struggled hard after habits of greater -tidiness, as a matter of principle. But in middle life she -could still speak of her drawers as—at least sometimes—supplying -a succession of ‘surprises.’</p> - -<p>Her ‘little Robins’ were now growing up, an ever-increasing -care and interest to her loving heart; and the -devotion which she felt for Letitia was of a most intense -nature. The two boys were of course much away at -school; but Letitia was always with her,—until the year -1865, when it was decided that she should go out to her -uncle, Mr. St. George Tucker, in India. Moreover, many -other little nieces and nephews had a warm place in the -life of ‘Aunt Char,’ none more so than the children of her -especial sister-friend, one of whom was her own god-child.</p> - -<p>Side by side with innumerable home-duties and home-pleasures -went on the continual writing of little books for -children; one or two at least appearing every year. The -amount of work in one such volume is not heavy; but -A. L. O. E.’s other calls were many. And she was not -writing for a livelihood, or even for the increased comforts, -whether of herself or of others dependent upon her;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> -therefore it could not be placed in the front rank of -home-duties. The Tuckers were sufficiently well off; -and Charlotte is believed to have devoted most or all of -the proceeds of her pen to charitable purposes.</p> - -<p>To secure a certain amount of leisure for work, she -accustomed herself to habits of early rising. Her Mother -had always strongly objected to late hours, making the -rule for her girls,—‘If you can, always hear eleven o’clock -strike in bed.’ Charlotte is said to have made her a -definite promise never to write books late at night; and -through life this promise was most scrupulously adhered -to.</p> - -<p>Since she was debarred from late hours, and since in -those days she could never be sure of her time through -the day, early morning was all that remained to her. -Punctually, therefore, at six o’clock she got up,—like -her hero, Fides, conquering Giant Sloth,—and thus made -sure of at least an hour’s writing before breakfast. In -winter months, when others had fires at night in their -bedrooms, Charlotte denied herself the luxury, that she -might have it in the morning instead for her work. The -fire was laid over-night, and she lighted it herself when -she arose; long before the maid came to call her.</p> - -<p>Later in the day she wrote if she could and when she -could. No doubt also she found many an opportunity -for thinking over her stories, and planning what should -come next. She usually had the tale clear in her mind -before putting pen to paper; so that no time was lost -when an hour for actual work could be secured.</p> - -<p>A sitting-room behind the dining-room of No. 3, called -‘the parlour,’ was by common consent known as her -room. Here she would sit and compose her books; but -she made of it no hermitage. Here she would be invaded -by nieces, nephews, children, anybody who wanted a -word with ‘Aunt Char.’ And she was ready always for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> -such interruptions. Writing was with her, as we have -seen, not the main business of life, but merely an adjunct,—an -additional means of usefulness. Since she had -secured the one early uninterrupted hour, other hours -might take their chance, and anybody’s business might -come before her own business. With all these breaks, -and in spite of them, she yet managed in the course of -years to accomplish a long list of children’s books.</p> - -<p>One of the said nieces, Miss Annie Tucker, writes -respecting certain visits that she paid to her grandmother, -Mrs. Tucker, at Portland Place:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘In each of these visits it was always my beloved Aunt Charlotte -who entertained me,—if I may use the word,—though I was a mere -child; and she did it just as if I were a grown-up person. I could -never see that she took less pains to interest me than she did to -please the many grown-up people who called. She usually entertained -us in her room behind the dining-room, so that my grandmother -should not be wearied too much.</p> - -<p>‘How often have I gone in and out of her room, with a freedom -which now almost surprises me! but she never seemed interrupted -by my entrance. I have seen her put down her pen, though she was -evidently preparing MS. for the press, and attend to any little thing I -wanted to say, without one exclamation of vexation or annoyance, or -a resigned-resignation look, that some people put on on such -occasions, at her literary work being put a stop to. And yet I am -sure that was not because she did not mind being interrupted.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>It is not for a moment to be implied that all hard toilers -in life are bound to follow precisely here the example of -A. L. O. E. Circumstances differ in different cases. Often -the work itself is of supreme importance; the interruptions -are unnecessary and undeserving of attention. If everybody -worked as Charlotte Tucker worked at that particular -period, the amount accomplished would in some cases be -very small, and in other cases, where undivided attention -is essential, the result would be absolute failure. In -her case the literary work was of a simple description,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> -and the home-calls appeared to be distinctly first in -importance. But the spirit which she showed was well -worthy of imitation. Many, whose favourite occupations -are, to say the least, no whit more pressing than were her -books, are exceedingly tenacious of their time, and -exceedingly impatient of interruptions; and with too -many the home-calls come second to all personal interests. -It was far otherwise with Charlotte Tucker. Whatever -had to be done, she was ready to do it,—not one iota -more ready to write her books, or to visit in the Workhouse, -than to teach the ‘Robins,’ to amuse visitors, old or -young, to entertain guests at dinner or luncheon, to take -her part in a family ‘glee,’ to join in merry games, to -conduct friends on sight-seeing expeditions. No matter -what it might be, she did it willingly, throwing her whole -energy into the matter in hand, always at everybody’s -service, never allowing herself to appear worried or bored.</p> - -<p>Despite her somewhat fragile appearance, and an -appetite commonly small, there must have been a marvellous -amount of underlying strength,—of the ‘wiriness’ -which often belongs to delicate-looking people. If tired, -she seldom confessed the fact, and never made a fuss -about it. Her extraordinary vitality and mental vigour -carried her through what would have entirely laid by -many another in her place.</p> - -<p>The following extracts are from letters ranging between -1861 and the beginning of 1866:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Nov. 6, 1861.</i></p> - -<p>‘Will you kindly tell my Letitia that I have put up her paint-box, -to be sent to Somerset House, as I dare say that your dear husband -will kindly take charge of the little parcel....</p> - -<p>‘The weather here has not been very choice. We had candles at -luncheon yesterday. We make ourselves very happy, however, by -vigorous reading. In the evening we discourse with Queen Elizabeth,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> -Leicester, Paul Buys, and Olden Barneveldt, etc.; in the morning we -go out hunting with M. Chaillu, plunging amongst hippopotami and -crocodiles, demolishing big black serpents, or perhaps capturing a -baby-gorilla, more troublesome than dear Edgy himself.</p> - -<p>‘We are all just now in a state of indignation about your pork! -Don’t suppose that it is any fault in the pork; on the contrary, it is -acknowledged to be the most “refined” pork ever known; and -Mother says that if she shut her eyes, she would not know that she -was not eating chicken!! We had a beautiful roast of it one day -at luncheon; and Mother cut off a choice bit, to be reserved for -our table, cold, while the servants were indulged with the rest of -that joint. To-day Mother asked for our reserved bit. Would you -believe it?—those dreadfully greedy servants had eaten <em>our</em> bit as -well as their own, though they had legs of mutton on Friday and -Saturday, and a 22 lb. joint of roastbeef on Sunday! Do you marvel -at our indignation? Mother means to call some one to account. She -puts all the pathos of the question upon <em>me</em>. Miss Charlotte to be -disappointed of her reserved bit of pork! I can hardly keep my -countenance, but of course must not disclaim my interest in the -question. These greedy servants must be kept in order. It is not -for nothing that we read of valiant encounters with alligators and -hippopotami.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Dec. 3, 1862.</i></p> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Dearest Laura</span>,—We at last opened our piano, and your song -has been thoroughly examined. The result is that some parts are much -liked. Clara was so much pleased with the verse about the Rose, -that after singing it over for Mother’s benefit she sang it three times -over for her own. The words are not worthy of the music; it ought -to be sacred; and I intend to copy it out in my own little music-book -as a hymn, so that its interest will not die away with that of the -bridal.<a name="FNanchor_8" id="FNanchor_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> The part next best liked is the Shamrock verse; and if I -might venture a suggestion, I think that the whole of the “We hail -thee” might be set to it; only the “glittering” accompaniment must -be confined to the Shamrock verse. I think people often like the -repetition of one air over and over, far better than a great variety.</p> - -<p>The air is flowing and attractive, and there is no harm in its -brevity. The first part, “We hail thee,” has a transition, which we -fear that the rules of thorough-bass might not permit; and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> -Thistle is hardly equal to either the Shamrock or the Rose,—of -which, you see, I would make a <em>separate</em> song and hymn. If you -would write out the song to the music of the former, I do not see why -we should not try to get it accepted by a publisher. I hope that you -will excuse my thus venturing to criticise your song and so unmercifully -to cut it short.</p> - -<p>‘I will give on the next page the words which I propose putting—for -my own use—to the hymn part. Very little alteration will make -them go very well to the air, for I have tried them; and the repetition -of the last words, which your sweet music requires, suits lines the -whole emphasis of which falls on the closing words; at least I fancy -so.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The lines following are given here, not exactly as they -appeared in the letter, but in the corrected and improved -form which afterwards appeared in print with the -music:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘The Lord He is my strength and stay,</div> -<div class="verse">When sorrow’s cup o’erflows the brim;</div> -<div class="verse indent2">It sweetens all if we can say,</div> -<div class="verse indent4">“This is from Him!”</div> -<div class="verse">All comfort, comfort, flows from Him.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘When humbly labouring for my Lord,</div> -<div class="verse">Faint grows the heart and weak the limb,</div> -<div class="verse indent2">What strength and joy are in the words,</div> -<div class="verse indent4">“This is for Him!”</div> -<div class="verse">’Tis sweet to spend our strength for Him.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘I hope for ever to abide</div> -<div class="verse">Where dwell the radiant Seraphim;</div> -<div class="verse indent2">Delivered, pardoned, glorified;</div> -<div class="verse indent4">But ’tis through Him!</div> -<div class="verse">All light and glory flow from Him.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘Then welcome be the hour of death,</div> -<div class="verse">When Nature’s lamp burns low and dim,</div> -<div class="verse indent2">If I can cry with dying breath,</div> -<div class="verse indent4">“I go to Him!”</div> -<div class="verse">For Life Eternal flows from Him.’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS BELLA F. TUCKER.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Feb. 11, 1862.</i></p> - -<p>‘I have read your touching account of your most sorely afflicted -friend with great interest. I visit the Imbecile Ward,<a name="FNanchor_9" id="FNanchor_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> and I fear -that she must be in the Insane Ward; but I will be sure to make -inquiries, and perhaps I may find that I can follow her thither. I -am not timid. Very very glad should I be to impart any comfort in -such a case of awful distress; but I fear that she may not understand -even sympathy.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Feb. 26, 1862.</i></p> - -<p>‘I went to our afflicted friend.... I talked to her as comfortingly -as I could, and told her that I thought this sad trial might be sent -that she might be like Christiana, walking on a Heavenward path, -with all her children with her. I was glad to draw forth one or two -tears, for tearless anguish is the most terrible. She said that she -prayed the Lord to take her. I did not think that a good prayer, but -suggested that she should ask the Lord to come to her, as to the -disciples in the storm. She has promised to repeat the two very -little prayers, “Lord, come to me”; and “Lord, make my children -Thine, for Jesus’ sake.” It was touching to hear her repeating softly, -again and again,—“Make me Thine! make me Thine!”’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>March 25, 1862.</i></p> - -<p>‘Though still very low to-day, Mrs. —— did not seem to me to be -inaccessible to religious comfort. I fancied that there was a little -lightening of the darkness.... I do not know of anything that she -wants. I have supplied her with working materials. Perhaps a little -book with pictures in it is as good as anything, as amusing without -fatiguing the mind.... I know the beautiful large texts that you -allude to; but I do not know where they could well be fixed in -the Insane Ward. They are more, I think, for the bedridden.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Gresford</span>, <i>Sept. 13, 1863</i>.</p> - -<p>‘I thought of you as I stood on the soft green slope down to the -water, and looked on the bright little stream, with its white foam<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> -sparkling in the sunlight. How much of its beauty it owes to the -pebbles that fret it; and how much of its rapidity to the fall in its -course. But in our lives, how we—at least I—shrink from the -pebbles! How we would fain have all glassy smooth,—though -Nature itself teaches us that then it would become stagnant. The -“sea of glass” is for another world....</p> - -<p>‘I sometimes think that consoling is one of the most delightful -employments given to God’s servants. It is pleasanter than teaching; -far far more so than reproving others, or struggling against evil, or -examining our own hearts. You were a comfort to poor dear ——, -and I dare say that the sense of being so lightened your own trial of -parting. I would give a <em>great deal</em> to have your influence with ——; -but the Almighty has not been pleased to grant me this. Perhaps -He will some day.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>July 29, 1864.</i></p> - -<p>‘I want particularly to know whether, in case I see my way to -gaining money by it for some religious or charitable purpose, you -will make me a present of that little bit of your welcome to the -Princess which I have turned into a hymn. Also whether you would -mind Mrs. Hamilton’s name being published on it. The hymn has -been ringing so in my ears, and with such a soothing effect when -I did not feel particularly cheerful, that I should like others to have -the same comfort. I have made inquiries as to the cost of printing -and publishing it.... Being very short, I do not think that much -could be asked; and this is perhaps the gem of your music. I do -not want it to be done at your expense, but at my own, and to manage -everything after my own fashion,—but I cannot plunder you either -of your music or your name without your leave....</p> - -<p>‘Dear Fanny is better, though still prisoner to her room. She has -had a sharp attack of fever; and I am afraid it will be difficult to -throw off the cough. The rest of our party are well, as I trust that -I may find you and your dear circle.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Aug. 1, 1864.</i></p> - -<p>‘Your and your dear husband’s sweet notes quite added to the -cheerfulness of our breakfast-table. Even Fanny did not appear -knocked down by your tender scolding. She, for the first time since -Tuesday, came to breakfast. She still needs great care, for the cold<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> -was on her chest, and even speaking is liable to make her cough. -Mother highly approves of your plan of coming to town. She desires -me to say that she knows that her face is before you, as yours is before -her. Dear Fanny will probably not start for Brighton till Wednesday -week, so she will have the pleasure of welcoming you, and I am sure -that you will try not to let her be loquacious....</p> - -<p>‘Many thanks for your kind present of the music. I am going to -have it printed by converted Jews, and the entire profits devoted to -the Society for the Conversion of Jews; so that it will be a little -offering from us both to one of the holiest of causes.... I take the -expense of the edition of 500 copies. They are to be sold for 1s. -apiece; so if all are sold there is a contribution of £25 clear to the -Society.... I am rather hopeful that the whole edition will go off -before Christmas; for one shilling is not a formidable sum, especially -when people can get a new song and help a good cause at the same -time.... I take great pleasure in this little piece of business. I -have been quite <em>haunted</em> by the music. I am ordering the plate to -be preserved, in case of a Second Edition being required. So Mrs. -Hamilton is going to come out as a Composer!’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.<a name="FNanchor_10" id="FNanchor_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a></p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>March 31, 1865.</i></p> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">My dear God-daughter</span>,—I shall like to think of you particularly -to-morrow, because it is the Anniversary of the day when your dear -parents in church solemnly presented their precious little first-born -babe to God; and I stood there to answer for her. Dear Leila, may -each return of that day find you drawing nearer and nearer to Him -who said, “Suffer the little children to come unto Me.” If we could -only feel in our hearts that He really does love us, and that He -deigns to care whether we love Him, what a motive it would be for -doing everything as in His sight! We are too apt to think of our -Saviour as very far off, and with so many to care for that we are -almost beneath His notice. But this is wrong. The Sun shines and -sparkles on every dewdrop in a field, as much as if it were the only -dewdrop in the world. He does not pass it over, because it is little; -he makes it beautiful in his light, and then draws it up towards -himself.... I wish that I could come and pay you a visit; but I do -not see how I am to leave Grandmamma as long as dear Aunt Fanny -is an invalid. I seem wanted at home.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>It may have been somewhere about this year, or not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> -very long before it, that Charlotte wrote the following -pretty and graceful lines:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘Each silver thread that glitters in the hair,</div> -<div class="verse">Is like a wayside landmark,—planted there</div> -<div class="verse">To show Earth’s pilgrims, as they onward wend,</div> -<div class="verse">How nearly they approach their journey’s end!’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="I_CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1864-1866<br /> -A HEAVY SHADOW</span></h3> - -<p>The afternoon shadows were again to darken around -Charlotte Tucker; and one blow after another had to fall. -Her mother was growing old, and in no long time would -be called away. The health of her gentle sister, Fanny, -had begun to fail, never to be entirely restored. But a -yet sharper sorrow, because utterly unlooked for, was to -come before the loss of either her mother or her sister, like -a flash of lightning into the midst of clear sunshine.</p> - -<p>Of all the many whom she dearly loved, none perhaps -lay closer to her heart than Letitia, the only daughter of -her brother Robert,—the youngest of ‘the Robins.’ The -two boys were now out in the world, one in India, one at -sea; but Letitia hitherto had never left her, except for -visits here or there among relatives and friends. One who -knew them both well describes the contrast between aunt -and niece at this period,—Charlotte Tucker, ‘so upright -and animated, very thin, fair, with auburn hair, not very -abundant, but which curled slightly, naturally,’—and -Letitia, ‘grave, with beautiful dark eyes and hair, and -rather dark complexion.’ Another speaks of Letitia as -tall and handsome, with dark eyes, dark chestnut hair, -regular features, and sweet smile.</p> - -<p>The gravity seems to have been a marked characteristic -of this gifted young girl. From very babyhood she was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> -earnestly religious, and of a peculiarly serious temperament; -though at the same time energetic and sometimes -even lively. She had not her aunt’s spirit of fun; but the -two were alike in generosity and in determination. Perhaps -Charlotte Tucker’s training had especially developed -these traits in her niece. A favourite proverb of Letitia’s -was—‘Perseverance conquers difficulties’;—and it would -have served equally well for A. L. O. E.</p> - -<p>Letitia was also very fond of little children, and she -worked much among the poor. She was an exceedingly -good and fearless rider; and at twenty years old there -was already promise of a literary gift. Her passion for -reading was so great that Hallam’s <cite>History</cite> was a -recreation in her eyes. She had written at least one short -story, which had found its way into print, and many pretty, -simple verses, chiefly of a religious character. One of her -hymns, composed at the age of eighteen, may be given -here:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘My soul was dark, for o’er its sight</div> -<div class="verse indent3">The shades of sorrow fell;—</div> -<div class="verse">In Thee alone there still was light,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Jesus, Immanuel!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘And all around me and above</div> -<div class="verse indent3">There hung a gloomy spell;—</div> -<div class="verse">I should have died without Thy love,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Jesus, Immanuel!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘For in my sinking heart there beat</div> -<div class="verse indent3">An ever-sounding knell;—</div> -<div class="verse">But still I knew the “promise sweet,”</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Jesus, Immanuel!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘I looked to Thee through all my fears,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">The pain and grief to quell;—</div> -<div class="verse">Thy Hand hath wiped away my tears,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Jesus, Immanuel!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘I heard a low, “a still small voice,”</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Soft whisper, “It is well”;—</div> -<div class="verse">And knew the Saviour of my choice,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Jesus, Immanuel!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘And still, o’er all life’s changing sea,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">In calm or stormy swell,</div> -<div class="verse">I’ll look in faith straight up to Thee,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Jesus, Immanuel!’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>On November 28, 1864, Letitia left English shores, to -join her uncle, Mr. St. George Tucker and his family, in -India. Letters of Charlotte Tucker, referring to the -event, have not come to hand; but she must have felt the -separation very keenly, whatever might have been the -precise reasons which led to the move. Letitia had now -been practically her child for eighteen years; and a close -tie existed between the two. But no doubt Charlotte -looked upon the parting as of a very temporary nature; -as merely sending her child away for a longer visit than -any preceding. The real anguish of separation came a -year later, when suddenly the young girl was summoned -to her true Home.</p> - -<p>The few following extracts lie between these two dates,—the -going of Letitia to India, and the tidings of her death.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Jan. 3, 1865.</i></p> - -<p>‘Many thanks, my dear Leila, for your affectionate note.... -There was another nice cheerful note from my Letitia to-day. She -wrote it when on the Red Sea, which she evidently found very warm, -for she described the ship as a “hothouse,” and said that she and her -fellow-passengers would be “fine exotics” before they arrived. There -had been two Services on board on Sunday, and Letitia had heard -two excellent sermons. Mary Egerton had her harmonium on board, -which had been brought up from the hold, so there was nice hymn-singing -too. How sweet the music must have sounded on the water!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> -I think that, steaming over the Red Sea, one would have liked to -have raised the song of the Israelites—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">“Sound the loud timbrel o’er Egypt’s dark sea,</div> -<div class="verse">Jehovah hath triumphed, His people are free!”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>‘My dear sailor is to leave us on the 17th or 18th for China. I -believe that he is to travel part of the journey in the same vessel as -the Cuthbert Thornhills, who were to have taken charge of Letitia -had our first arrangements held good. They will have one Robin -instead of the other. Poor dear Mrs. Thornhill, what a sad parting -is before her! I had a loving note very lately from my Louis. He -fears that he will not get leave to see his dear sister for a twelve-month.</p> - -<p>‘The weather here has been chilly. None of the ladies have ventured -out of the house since Saturday; but Charley has in vain longed -for skating. Ice forms, then melts again. Dear Grandmamma keeps -wonderfully free from cold; but then she remains in the house.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON. (Undated.)</p> - -<p>‘My loved boy left us yesterday, quiet and firm, shedding no tear. -We (Mamma) had a little note from him this morning,—such a -simple one,—you might have fancied that he had only left us for a -week. Dear boy! I trust that he is going into sunshine; above all -I hope and pray that his Father’s God will ever be with him. It -would not have been well for him to have remained much longer in -London with nothing particular to do. Active life is most wholesome -to a fine strong man like my Charley....</p> - -<p>‘Dear Mother keeps well. Sweet Fan I cannot give so good an -account of. I have urged Mother to have further advice; and I -believe that there will be a little consultation on Friday; but perhaps -you had better not write about this, except to me.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Nov. 15, 1865.</i></p> - -<p>‘What a bright account you give of your dear busy young party! -Tell dear Otho that I shall be charmed if he makes the discovery of a -magenta-coloured caterpillar, or a mauve earwig; and that as it will -be ten times as curious as the Spongmenta Padella, it ought to have -a Latin name ten times as long. I don’t despair of the great sea-serpent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> -Did I tell you that dear Mrs. Thornhill had, when a girl, -conversed with a Mrs. Hodgeson, wife of one of the Governors of our -West Indian possessions, who had watched the movements of <em>two</em> -that were fighting in the waves for about <em>ten minutes</em>?</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">“’Twere worth ten years of peaceful life,</div> -<div class="verse">One glance at such a fray!—”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">I took down the particulars, as I thought them very curious....</p> - -<p>‘This is my sweet Letitia’s birthday; she is just twenty.... My -Letitia is going to pay Louis a visit at Moultan.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>No foreboding whisper in her heart spoke of what that -visit to Moultan, so lightly mentioned, would mean to -them all. When the two next letters were penned, little -as Charlotte dreamt of what was coming, the blow had -already fallen, and Letitia had passed away.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Jan. 2, 1866.</i></p> - -<p>‘May the best blessings of the opening year rest upon my beloved -Laura, and her dear circle.</p> - -<p>‘I hope that dear Leila received my <cite>Rescued from Egypt</cite> in the -Christmas box. I put it up for her, and to the best of my knowledge -it went to Bournemouth; but as neither she nor you have mentioned -seeing it, I feel half afraid that in some way I cannot imagine -it has missed its destination, and the dear girl has fancied that when -sending little remembrances to her brothers I had forgotten her.</p> - -<p>‘Such a delightful budget of letters I had from Letitia by last -Southampton mail! She writes that she is “very very happy.”’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Jan. 3, 1866.</i></p> - -<p>‘I feel that I have not said half enough to your dear husband for -his splendid book. I was in such a hurry to write and thank him, -that I only gave myself time for a cursory glance.... Dear Fanny -enjoyed looking at the pictures with me; and to-day I carried up my -book to dear Mother, that she might have the pleasure also. She -admires your dear husband’s gift greatly, and we agree that it is just -the book to take to the Cottage. It seems to be quite a treasure of -curious and interesting knowledge; a volume to keep for reference as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> -well as for perusal. Do thank dear Mr. Hamilton again for me, and -tell him that I consider <cite>Homes Without Hands</cite> as a family acquisition.</p> - -<p>‘We are all much <i lang="la">in statu quo</i>. Our time is now passing swiftly -and pleasantly. Mother looks so bright and bonny and young! We -were talking together to-day of your and your dear husband’s kindness -to sweet Fanny. I am sure that it has not been lost.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Then came the mournful news; and a hasty short scrawl -conveyed the first intimation of it from Charlotte Tucker -to her niece, ‘Leila’ Hamilton; a note without any formal -beginning:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘Break to your sweet Mother and Aunt Mina that God has taken -my darling Letitia. His Will be done,—Your sorrowing Aunt,</p> - -<p class="right">‘C. M. T.</p> - -<p class="center">‘All was peace,—<em>smiling</em>!’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The illness had been short,—a severe attack of erysipelas, -while Letitia was in her brother’s house at Moultan. -Somewhat early in the illness she had said,—‘I am sure I -shall die; but one ought not to mind, you know.’ While -delirious she was heard to say distinctly,—‘Ta,’—her pet -name in the past for her aunt Charlotte; but the message, -if there were one, could not be distinguished.</p> - -<p>After much wandering, she regained sufficient consciousness -to assure those around that she was suffering no pain; -and five or six times she repeated to her brother,—‘I am -very fond of you!’ This was on a Wednesday. The -next day, Thursday, she was too weak for speech; though -in the morning, recognising her brother, she gave him a -sweet smile. Thenceforward the dying girl was entirely -peaceful; as said by one of those present,—‘constantly -smiling. Her whole face was lighted up as with extreme -pleasure.’ All day this continued, as she slowly sank; -the face remaining perfectly calm and untroubled; till -at length, when she passed away, soon after eleven o’clock -at night, ‘she ceased to breathe so gently that she seemed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> -to have fallen into a deep sleep.’ But the placid smile -was still there, unchanged, till the sweet young face was -hidden away.</p> - -<p>Charlotte Tucker, writing to her sister, Mrs. Hamilton, -about these sad particulars, which yet were not all sad, -observed:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I am sure your heart has been aching, and your eyes have been -weeping. Such a sudden—such an unexpected stroke! But God -is Wisdom and Love....</p> - -<p>‘Darling—my own darling Letitia! Oh, when she looked so -happy, did she not see the angels—or her beloved Father—or the -Bedwells and old Rodman whom she had so tended,—perhaps all -coming to welcome her,—or the loving Saviour Himself? I do not -grudge her to Him; but oh, what a wealth of love I have (apparently) -lost in that one young heart! Her <em>last</em> parcel of letters to me -contained sweet commissions for her poor.... I dare say that I -shall hear from you to-morrow; but it is a relief to me to write -now to you, who were so kind and dear to her. I went out before -breakfast this morning. A thrush was singing so sweetly. I saw -the first crocus of the year. My flower,—my lovely one,—she may -now be singing in joy, while we sit in sorrow.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>This letter was dated January 21; and three days -later another went to Mrs. Hamilton, not from Charlotte, -but from Fanny:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">My own dearest Laura</span>,—Your dear letters have been -very soothing to our Charlotte, and have helped to remind her of -the mercies mingled with the bereavement. The sure sweet hope -that her darling is safe, and for ever happy, has been her strong -consolation; and God is mercifully supporting her, I am thankful to -say. Last Sunday she went both to Church and to the Workhouse.</p> - -<p>‘I am thankful to be near her, to minister to her,—but wish I were -a better comforter, such as <em>you</em> would have been, dear.</p> - -<p>‘The sad tidings were most gently broken to our dear Mother -by Clara. She was therefore mercifully spared the shock of the -sudden intelligence.</p> - -<p>‘With kindest remembrances to dear Mr. Hamilton, and love to -your dear self and your dear ones, believe me, dearest Laura, your -very affectionate</p> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">F. Tucker.</span>’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">C. M. T. TO A COUSIN.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Jan. 24, 1866.</i></p> - -<p>‘Many thanks for your kind sympathy. My sweet consolation -indeed is that my own darling girl sleeps in Jesus. When such a -bright look of “extreme pleasure” lighted up the dear face of one -called away in the bloom of her youth and beauty, was she not -realising her own sweet lines,—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">“I heard a Voice, ‘a still small Voice,’</div> -<div class="verse">Soft whisper, ‘It is well,’</div> -<div class="verse">And knew the Saviour of my choice,</div> -<div class="verse indent2">Jesus, Immanuel”?’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Feb. 6, 1866.</i></p> - -<p>‘Did I ever tell you that my darling wrote to me when she was -at the Hills, saying that she did not wish me to be altogether disappointed -in regard to her, and asking me whom I would wish her -to try to resemble. I mentioned you,—for I thought that as her -disposition was lively, it would be more easy for her to try to be -like you than dear Fanny; besides she had seen you as a wife -and mother, and I did not know whether the Almighty might not -destine her to be such. He had something “far better” for my -loved one.</p> - -<p>‘It will interest you to know that G—— (P——‘s <i lang="fr">protégée</i>), after -winning honours at Cambridge, wishes to be baptized as a Christian. -Amy H—— and her husband are to be two of his witnesses, and he -is anxious that dear Henry<a name="FNanchor_11" id="FNanchor_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> should be the third; for it was Henry’s -consistent character which first showed him what Christianity really -is.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Feb. 13, 1866.</i></p> - -<p>‘I thank you lovingly, dearest Leila, for your letter. I prize your -affection,—you write to me almost as my own darling used to write. -If my health had broken down, so that I could not have been a -comfort to dear Grandmamma and Aunt Fanny here, I should -thankfully have accepted the invitation which you so affectionately -press; but as I keep pretty well, I do not think that it would be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> -well for me to leave my post at home. Dear Grandmamma seems -to cling to me so,—she is so loving! I am thankful that she keeps -so well. Dear Aunt Fanny was not so well for two days, but is -better again....</p> - -<p>‘My darling once wrote and asked me whose character I would -like her to try to copy as a pattern. I gave her your sweet Mother’s. -She replied that it would be difficult, but that it was well to aim -high. I think that <em>you</em> will like to know this. You have the same -sweet model always before you; you, dear one, have advantages that -my darling had not.</p> - -<p>‘Though I have cried over this note, it has soothed me to write -it; I have felt as if I were taking another dear young niece to my -heart,—a sad heart, but I trust not an ungrateful one for the earthly -affection which is God’s gift, and of which I have been granted -much.—Your affectionate Aunt and Godmother</p> - -<p class="right">‘C. M. T.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘1866.</p> - -<p>‘I send you on the other page a few lines which came into my -mind yesterday in regard to my sweet Letitia:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p class="center">‘<span class="smcap">A Thought.</span></p> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘She travelled to the glorious East; she met the rising sun,—</div> -<div class="verse">And even so her day of heavenly bliss was soon begun;</div> -<div class="verse">I knew ’twas sunrise with my child, while night was o’er me weeping,</div> -<div class="verse">E’er closed my weary day, my darling was serenely sleeping.</div> -<div class="verse">And so Thou didst ordain, O Lord, as Thou didst deem it best,—</div> -<div class="verse">That hers should be the earlier dawn, and hers the earlier rest.’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS B. F. TUCKER.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>May 22, 1866.</i></p> - -<p>‘I have been learning a new art, and am thankful to find that I -have sufficient energy left in me to do so. I sent for some reading -in embossed letters for a blind man here, and amused myself by -puzzling it out myself. I have succeeded in reading right through -the fourteenth of St. John in two sittings of about an hour and twenty -minutes each. It was an effort of memory as well as attention, as -some of the letters are utterly unlike those to which we have been -accustomed. The poor blind man promises well to acquire the art, -I think.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>July 16, 1866.</i></p> - -<p>‘Have you seen the mysterious sky-visitor? On Friday evening -our maids saw something like three stars, one red,—but they disappeared. -On the following night Cousins<a name="FNanchor_12" id="FNanchor_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> called me to look on -what I would not have missed seeing for a good deal. About thirty -degrees above the horizon, I should think, shone what was like a -star, but more splendid than any that I had ever beheld, of a brilliant -magenta colour. It was no falling star passing rapidly through the -sky, but appeared quite fixed in the heavens for—perhaps ten -minutes. As I gazed with something like awe on its wondrous -beauty, suddenly its colour utterly changed; the magenta became -white, with a greenish tinge; and then—as suddenly—the star disappeared; -not as if hidden by a cloud, but as if <em>put out</em>.</p> - -<p>‘I watched for the mysterious light last night, but could not see -it; the evening had been so strangely dark that we had lighted -candles an hour before sunset, though our window looks to the -west. No star was visible to me; but our maids had a short glimpse -of a strange light. I am sitting by the window now to watch for -the visitor in the north-west.... I searched <cite>The Times</cite> to-day to -see if there were any mention of it, but could find none.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Evidently Charlotte Tucker had been fortunate enough -to see a very fine meteor; though probably the supposed -duration of ten minutes was in reality a good deal -shorter. The idea of watching for the same meteor next -night is somewhat amusing. The maids doubtless saw -what they expected to see; but Charlotte Tucker, though -non-scientific, was far too practical so to indulge her -powers of imagination.</p> - -<p>In another letter written during this same July to Mrs. -Hamilton occurs one little sentence well worth quoting, -for it is a sentence which might serve as a motto for many -a seemingly empty and even purposeless life—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">‘<span class="smcap">It is sweet to be somebody’s sunshine.</span>’</p> - -</div> - -<p>In June Mrs. Tucker had written to a friend,—‘Charlotte<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> -walked twice to church, and thinks she is stronger.’ And -in a letter to Mrs. Hamilton, on the 23rd of July, Charlotte -said of herself,—‘I am quite well now, and up to work’;—yet -the following to a niece, on September 1st, does not -speak of fully restored energies:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I have so much to be grateful for, I wish that I were of a more -thankful spirit. It seems as if this year had aged me. When I -saw a bright creature like ——, I mentally contrasted her with myself, -and thought,—“She has not the gee out of her. Cheerfully -and hopefully she enters on her untried sphere of work. In her -place I should be taking cares!”—very wrong of me. I often take -myself to task.</p> - -<p>‘I feel putting off my dark dress for <em>one day</em> on Wednesday.... -My darling was to me what she was not to her other Aunts.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>To some people, or in certain states of body and mind, -the afternoon is apt to be a more tired time than the -evening. At this stage in Charlotte Tucker’s Afternoon -of life she passed through a somewhat weary spell, though -never really ill; but her energies were to revive for the -work of her Eventide.</p> - -<p>On October 6th she could say,—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I am not poorly, though I look thin; I think that I am stronger -in health and firmer in spirit now than I have been almost all this -trying year; and for this I am thankful.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Nov. 2, 1866.</i></p> - -<p>‘Your sweet Mother will wonder at not receiving the little book -which I promised to send her; but our bookseller, from whom I -ordered the copy, has been unable to get it yet. I will tell you -something that may cause delay. Of course I looked with some -interest at the illustrations which my Publisher sent me; but I -was not a little surprised in the last one to find one whom I considered -to be a man represented as a <em>bear</em>! He was bearish in -character certainly, but still—certainly not a bear in shape.</p> - -<p>‘Of course I wrote to Mr. Inglis about it; who replied that he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> -had been annoyed himself at the resemblance to a bear, and had -sent the picture more than once to be altered, and had been at last -so much provoked that he had paid off the artist altogether. Now, -though I may be a little sorry for the poor man,—I never proposed -his dismissal,—I confess I am rather glad that he is not to illustrate -my books any more. There is no saying what creature he might -turn my characters into next. Mr. Inglis is going to have the -picture altered; so this may occasion delay.’</p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="I_CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1867-1868<br /> -GIVING COMFORT TO OTHERS</span></h3> - -<p>Three more years only remained to Charlotte of life in -the dear old home of her infancy. Those three years -passed quietly, marked by no stirring events. On the -11th of December 1867, Otho St. George Hamilton, son -of her sister Laura, died at the age of thirteen, after a -long illness; and during these years Fanny continued -steadily to fail. The delicacy developed into a case of -decided consumption, but of a slow and lingering description. -A few sentences are culled from the many letters -which remain, belonging to this period.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Feb. 1867.</i></p> - -<p>‘I wish my sweet Leila to receive a few lines on her birthday.... -<i lang="la">Tempus fugit</i>, indeed. When you open this you will be thirteen -years old. It seems to me as if each year now were growing more -and more important; the stream is widening; the mind is opening; -and ... may the heart be opening too to that Love which is beyond -all earthly love.</p> - -<p>‘I had a pleasant childhood. My mind was very active, as well -as my bodily frame; and at your age I dare say that life lay before -me, a bright, hope-inspiring thing. It is well that it should be -so; it is a kind arrangement of Providence that the young should -be usually full of energy and hope. I like to recall how I felt, that -I may enter into the feelings of others.</p> - -<p>‘Now of course I have not exactly the same kind of landscape -before me as I had at thirteen. I am in my forty-sixth year, have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> -known care and sorrow, and have at present but feeble health. And -yet, dear, I don’t want to exchange my landscape; I have no wish -to go back. I have found that middle age has its deep joys, as well -as early youth its sparkling ones. Sometimes I ask myself,—“Now, -in my present position, if I had no pleasure in religion, if everything -connected with that were cut off, what would be left me?—what -would life be to me?” O Leila, what a tasteless, what a bitter thing! -We want delights that will not grow old, that will never pall, that -will be just as fresh and lovely at eighty as at eighteen. Religion -is not merely, as some seem to fancy, to prepare us for death, but -to be the happiness of life. It calls indeed for the sacrifice of self-will -in a hundred little ways; but it repays those little sacrifices a -hundred times over. Just think what it is to realise such thoughts -as these,—“The Lord Jesus loves me! I am His own! I shall -see Him one day, and be with Him!” How can such thoughts -ever lose their sweetness?’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>April 28, 1867.</i></p> - -<p>‘How different your still, noiseless dwelling must be to ours at -present! Not that we have much noise, but sometimes so much -seems going on. Yesterday M—— A—— D—— and a young cousin -came in the morning; then before they had left Cousin M—— E—— -and four fine children, then Uncle St. George and his wife. All -this before luncheon; others came after it; and I went to the -Poorhouse, and then lodging-hunting with Uncle St. George. He -<em>is</em> so sweet and loving and good.... He delights Grandmamma.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>July 1, 1867.</i></p> - -<p>‘It is mournfully interesting to read my darling’s papers, of which -L—— has brought home many. Her prose is usually lively; her -poetry full of tenderness, often very sad.... The two latest dated -poems were, I think, written August 14. They were called “An -Early Grave” and “All is Vanity.” Every stanza of the first -expresses desire for an early departure. The second thus beautifully -closes—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">“There’s rest beneath the yew; I know</div> -<div class="verse indent1">There’s deeper Rest in realms above;</div> -<div class="verse">The Saviour’s Arm the valley through</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Will me uphold with strengthening love;</div> -<div class="verse">My hope His Righteousness; my buckler, faith;</div> -<div class="verse">Why should I fear to tread the shades of death?”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘If this really be the darling’s last written stanza, what a touching -interest it gives it!’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS B. F. TUCKER.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Sept. 9, 1867.</i></p> - -<p>‘Poor little Otho has rallied again, though the doctor holds out no -hope of ultimate recovery. This is a sad time for my poor Laura, -though there are sorer trials than that of bereavement.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The Hamiltons were at this time in great trouble, as -they watched the long-drawn-out sufferings of their dying -boy; and many letters were written by Charlotte to her -favourite sister, full of intense feeling. Day by day she -lived with them in their sorrow, anxiously looking out for -fresh tidings, and thinking what she could say to comfort -or soothe.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Oct. 30, 1867.</i></p> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Precious Sister</span>,—Your touching letter has quickened the spirit -of Prayer; but oh, I feel as if my prayers were often so weak and -worthless. I want more faith, more earnestness. I have not time -to write more, but could not let <em>that</em> letter be unanswered by your -loving</p> - -<p class="right">‘C. M. T.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Nov. 9, 1867.</i></p> - -<p>‘Fanny and I have been conversing to-night on the subject of -your dear suffering boy. You long fervently to see him rejoicing in -the prospect of departing and being with Christ. Perhaps the one -obstacle to his being able to do so is the thought of parting from -you. If his Mother were going with him, he may think, he would be -happy to go.</p> - -<p>‘Now to me, were I in your darling’s position, there would be -comfort and pleasure in the idea—“Perhaps, as regards me, leaving -the body will <em>not</em> be real separation from dear ones. Perhaps I may -be allowed to come to them, and minister to them, and cheer them; -though they cannot see me I may see them!” This idea does not -appear opposed to Scripture. The rich man in the parable believed -that Lazarus <em>could</em> go to Earth; and Abraham never said that he -could <em>not</em>. If dear Otho thought that he might possibly be permitted -to watch over his Mother, and help to make her happy, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> -be one of the first to welcome her to bliss,—perhaps the real -bitterness of death would for him seem taken away. It seems quite -possible that dear Robin was by his child’s sick-bed, and that she -<em>saw</em> him, when her face so lighted up with joy. “I believe in the -Communion of Saints.”</p> - -<p>‘Your dear boy is very young. A child’s religion seems almost to -begin with the Fifth Commandment. We can hardly yet expect -dear Otho to love the Lord whom he has not seen <em>more</em> than the -parents whom he has seen and fondly loved. Do you not think, -darling, that you are almost <em>too</em> anxious on the subject of Otho’s state -of mind? He is only a lamb; and the Good Shepherd knows that -he needs to be carried.</p> - -<p>‘I should like to know when your dear boy takes the Holy Communion, -that I may be with you in thought and in prayer. Otho is -an invited guest to the Great Feast above; his robe is prepared by his -Lord,—don’t fear, love, that it will not be very white and very fair....</p> - -<p>‘<i>P.S.</i>—<i>Nov. 10.</i>—I have been thinking much of your dear one in -church; and I open my note to add another reason suggested to my -mind, as a cause why he may be unable ... to feel joy in the -thought of departure. You and I, my Laura, have known many of -God’s saints now in bliss; we have almost as many dear friends in -the world of spirits as in this. Perhaps we are hardly aware of the -influence which this has on our minds,—how it helps to make -Heaven a home. Your dear boy may feel that he is going to enter -amongst a great company of saints, almost every one of whom is a -stranger to him. To one so reserved as Otho, this may be rather an -awful thought. I wonder if it is a comfort to him to think of sweet -Letitia and Christian<a name="FNanchor_13" id="FNanchor_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> being there. Perhaps if you reminded him of -that, it might remove a feeling which—if he entertains it—he might -not like to mention even to you.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Nov. 13, 1867.</i></p> - -<p>‘I thank God that He has made your darling willing to depart, -even to leave you. Your note is deeply interesting; and I think you -may feel that your prayers have been answered.... You must now -only think of the “far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.” -Probably every hour of suffering in some mysterious way enhances -and increases future rapture,—rapture more intense than we can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> -conceive. The longer I live, the more convinced I feel that there <em>is</em> -this mysterious connection—in the case of God’s children—between -personal pain and future delight. So that, if we could, as we fain -would, shield our treasures from suffering, we might be depriving -them of some rich blessing.</p> - -<p>‘<em>You</em> are in the furnace, my precious sister,—a hotter furnace, -perhaps, than that which tries your child. I need not repeat that -whenever you want me, you have only to send for me. You and I -understand each other! How sweet is the tie between us! Dear -Mother is apt to indulge hopes of your boy’s recovery. I think that -she hardly realises his state, and probably she scarcely knows how -to write under the circumstances. She has had a cold these last -few days, but is, I hope, throwing it off....</p> - -<p>‘I send you a little book,<a name="FNanchor_14" id="FNanchor_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> which I am sure will interest you. It -has been a mournful pleasure to me to prepare it. Your lamb as -well as mine will probably soon “be folded above.”’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Nov. 14, 1867.</i></p> - -<p>‘My heart feels more with you, my Laura, in that still sick-room -than here. Perhaps many angels are about you and your boy, though -you see them not.</p> - -<p>‘Like your dear invalid, I am especially fond of St. Luke’s account -of the dying thief. There is something so touching in his looking at -such a moment to the Saviour, whose Blood, shed for his salvation, -was at that moment trickling down in his view; and there is something -so sublime in our Lord’s conferring Eternal Life,—such a gift,—at -the time when He was Himself undergoing the terrible sentence -of death! We may envy your dear suffering child, my Laura, when -we think how soon, in human expectation, his eyes will behold the -King in His beauty.</p> - -<p>‘O darling, you could hardly wish to keep him back, when the -Master calls him,—calls him to His Home—His Arms!</p> - -<p>‘I feel for your dear husband; this is a time of sore trial for him; -but you suffer together. May God give you both “songs in the -night.” Those songs are perhaps sweeter to Him than the Hallelujahs -of the Angels.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Nov. 21, 1867.</i></p> - -<p>‘How well I know that feeling which you describe,—the feeling of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> -being unable to pray fervently,—of being scarcely able to pray at all! -This is probably caused ... by fatigue of body, and overstraining -of mind and nerves. Perhaps God permits it, that we should just -sink in complete helplessness at our Saviour’s Feet, and ask Him to -pray for us, since we cannot pray for ourselves.... You may be -like a very little child, that can’t even <em>ask</em> for what it needs, but yet -trusts and fears not.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS LEILA HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Dec. 11, 1867.</i></p> - -<p>‘Your very very sad account of dear Otho received this morning -makes one think that, even before this reaches you, the sufferer -may have been called <em>home</em>! Oh what a blessing it is that it is indeed -Home.... Dear Otho has had a sorely trying journey, wintry and -wearisome indeed; but there is no shadow, never can be a shadow, -on the Home to which he is bound. He will never have to leave it -again, to learn the lesson of patience in pain. He will, through his -Lord’s merits, be ready there to welcome the dear ones whom he is -now leaving behind,—when they too may quit their school, and go -to their Father in Heaven....</p> - -<p>‘This is a solemn time for you, my Leila. I had reached the age -of thirty before I ever looked upon that which is called death, in my -own home. These events make the invisible world seem nearer. -They should draw us upwards; they should bring us closer to our -God.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Dec. 12, 1867.</i></p> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Most precious Laura</span>,—When Lady Catherine L——‘s only -son was called, she sank on her knees, and said,—“My child, I wish -you joy!” so wonderfully was she enabled to realise the happiness, -the ecstasy, of the freed spirit, rising up to the presence of her -Saviour and God. Happy, happy Otho! No more to be pitied, but -to be envied!</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“O change, O wondrous change!</div> -<div class="verse indent2">Burst are the prison bars,—</div> -<div class="verse">One moment past—how low</div> -<div class="verse">In mortal pangs,—and now</div> -<div class="verse">Beyond the stars!”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>‘I will not write much to you now, darling. I am going to see -your Freddie, but intend to tell him nothing.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘Express my tender sympathy to your dear husband. God support -you all.—Your loving</p> - -<p class="right">‘C. M. T.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Jan. 14, 1868.</i></p> - -<p>‘It was not with dry eyes, my beloved Laura, that I could read -what was written in those volumes, to which a tenfold value is given -by their being last Remembrances from your lately suffering, now -blessed boy. Oh, with what a heavy heavy heart must you have put -up those parcels, and written those inscriptions! It will perhaps be -a long time before you can realise with calm thankfulness that it -is indeed so “well with the child” that you can rejoice in his safety, -his happiness.... I am now much more disposed to praise for my -angel-girl than to weep for her.... I can see so clearly the Love -and Wisdom that took her Home. Presently, my precious sorrowing -sister, you may feel the same about your boy. Your intense love -will remain, for love is immortal; your sorrow will die, for sorrow -with Christ’s people is <em>not</em> immortal, thank God.—Your tenderly -loving</p> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">C. M. Tucker</span>.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p>‘I have enjoyed your dear letter, and it makes me feel thankful. -I have often thought that freed spirits probably lead a life of delightful -activity; none of the “burdens of the flesh” to fetter them down. -The idea of spirits preaching to spirits is, however, rather new to me. -But there seems nothing against it, and probability rather in its -favour. That verse in St. Peter, to which you refer, certainly -strengthens the idea; for the disciples are permitted in so many -ways to follow their Master.</p> - -<p>‘It is thus possible that, while you are weeping for your darling, if -your eyes were opened, you might see him the bright, joyful centre of -a little group of spirits of Indian children,<a name="FNanchor_15" id="FNanchor_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> repeating to them the -lessons which he first learned from you, but which he would now -know better—oh, how much better!—than you could ever teach him. -I am sure that you would not wish to take him back again to pain -and weakness from such an occupation.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>April 14, 1868.</i></p> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">My own sweet Laura</span>,—I feel that this month must be full of -heavy recollections to you; and oh, it is hard to have a bright face to -hide a bleeding heart. I hope that you will not put any restraint upon -yourself with me.... Easter has its peculiar message of hope and -joy to the mourner. Nature, bursting into new life and beauty, -repeats the message, gives it to us as it were in an illumination of -green leaves and bright blossoms. The Church says, “Christ is risen -indeed!”—and all around us joyfully adds, “And <em>we</em> shall rise -again!” Your parting with your boy is over; now only the meeting -is before you. The shadows fall behind; the glowing sunshine is in -front.’</p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="I_CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1868-1872<br /> -THE OLD HOME BROKEN UP</span></h3> - -<p>One letter at about this time gives particulars of how -Charlotte tried to influence, not without results, a poor -Roman Catholic woman, whom she came across in the -Infirmary. Another makes allusion to the Ragged Schools -and their work, in which she was always greatly interested. -Yet another contains the answer to an inquiry from a niece -about a book which should be bought, probably for a -gift. The suggested choice ranges between Sir Walter -Scott, Felicia Hemans, Jean Ingelow, the Author of <cite>The -Schonberg-Cotta Family</cite>, and Miss Sewell,—a rather curious -mixture.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>July 7, 1868.</i></p> - -<p>‘I met a mole the other day in a field. It did not attempt to -get away, but let me stroke it; and had I chosen I could easily -have taken it up in my hand. This seems quite a country for moles. -I have seen them repeatedly. I take a greater interest in them, -from that book, <cite>Homes Without Hands</cite>, which your father kindly -gave me.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Aug. 11, 1868.</i></p> - -<p>‘We have strange pets here. There are numbers of wasps; I -never saw so many at any one time, I think. They sting our poor -maids in the kitchen, but behave in such a gentlemanly way in the -drawing-room, that, instead of a plague, they seem a pleasure to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> -dear Grandmamma. She watches them, feeds them, admires their -beauty, and calls them her babies. One got within Aunt C——‘s -jacket, which naturally rather alarmed her. She drew the jacket -off, and I found the wasp in the sleeve. It had been between it -and C——‘s bare skin, and yet had never stung her.</p> - -<p>‘I dare say that you are rather impatient to be settled in Firlands.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Sept. 21, 1868.</i></p> - -<p>‘On Saturday —— and I read my <cite>Castle of Carlsmont</cite> aloud to -dear Grandmamma. I have been amused at ——‘s little criticisms, -and shall like to know how far yours agree with hers, if you read -my Tragedy. —— says that “Clara is rather stupid”; that she -likes Agnes best. “I have rather a sneaking likeness for Agnes,” -says she. She says that the ending disappoints her; she would -cut off the last page and the four preceding lines, which would -completely alter the whole ending. The ending stood originally -just as she would have it; but years afterwards I added the page -and four lines, which <em>I</em> think an improvement.</p> - -<p>‘Tell me frankly what you think, and whether you approve of -the style of binding. You remember when I talked to you about -the Tragedy, as we sat together in the garden. The two things -that occurred to you were,—how could I get the work, when printed, -<em>sold</em>; and that people would not like it in pamphlet shape. Messrs. -Nelson have obviated the first difficulty; and by having covers put -on by the Jewish Society, I have obviated the second. I am sure -my wee book will have your good wishes, dear, that it may bring -in a little sum to dear Auntie Fanny’s Mission purse.</p> - -<p>‘You will wonder what has become of that work of mine, of which -I read part to you last year. I can only warn you, my dear Leila, -when you write a story, don’t call it <cite>On the Way</cite>,—for it seems -to be always on the way, and never to arrive.</p> - -<p>‘What a long note I have written! Pay me back by a review -of my Tragedy, and be as blunt as ever you like; for if you tell me -that my poor lady is “very stupid,” instead of “rather stupid,” you -will only make me smile.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Feb. 4, 1869.</i></p> - -<p>‘It is only fair that I should send you a long account of the -wedding.<a name="FNanchor_16" id="FNanchor_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> I thought that I should be the first of the party in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> -church, for I went early; but I was mistaken. Gradually a large -family party gathered.... There was a good deal of how-d’ye-doing -and kissing and that kind of thing, before the word was -heard, “The bride is coming.”</p> - -<p>‘Dear Bella looked nice and sweet, leaning on the arm of her -father. A large Honiton lace veil fell over her pure white silk -dress; her lovely hair plaited, instead of made into an ugly chignon, -appeared graceful under the white wreath, from which a spray -drooped down her neck. I did not think the bridesmaids looking -picturesque; there was too square a look about the purple trimming -of their white alpacas. The bridegroom and bride stood side by -side. I could see Bella’s profile distinctly, and could hear every -sentence, both when James and when she repeated their vows.... -There was no crying that I could see.... You know that there were -eight little children present, four little boys and four little girls. -Some of them were given flowers from an ornamental basket, to -strew in the path of the bride, as her husband led her down the -aisle.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>June 12, 1869.</i></p> - -<p>‘Sweet Grandmamma continues much the same,—serene,—without -pain, not exactly ill, but so delicate that she is still carried up -and down stairs, and sees none of the family but Aunt Clara and -myself, and only a little of me.... Dear Grandmamma sent for -me while I was writing the above; and to my surprise I found her, -pen in hand, busy with a note to welcome Uncle Willy. I am much -pleased that she should send him one, though I should not have -thought of asking her to make so great an effort. Of course the -note is very short.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>July 10, 1869.</i></p> - -<p>‘My heart should be full of thankfulness, for to-day dear Aunt -Fanny was able to pay her first visit here to see Grandmamma. -Uncle and Aunt St. George<a name="FNanchor_17" id="FNanchor_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> drove her here in their pony-chaise; -and she had quite enjoyed the drive. I thought Aunt Fanny -decidedly better; but dear Grandmamma—who has scarcely realised -the severity of her late illness,—said to me, with evident disappointment,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> -“I was surprised to see my own Fanny look so pallid. I -think she looks worse than I do.” This is true; but then the fact -is that Grandmamma’s lovely pink and white complexion often -makes her look stronger than she is....</p> - -<p>‘Uncle St. George has given me such a lovely piano-piece. Grandmamma -likes me to play it through every day, or I should be inclined -to lend it to your dearest Mother. It would remind her so -of the dear Ancient Concerts, the delight of our youth, and of good -old Mrs. Burrough. It is Glück’s music, arranged by Calcott, from -<cite>Half-Hours with the Best Composers</cite>, published by Lonsdale. The -piece commences with the delightful chorus of Furies, Cerberus -barking, etc., which your dear Mother may remember.</p> - -<p>‘I am ashamed of such an untidy scrawl as this. I do not know -how that blot on the first page made its appearance. Of course the -<em>writer</em> was not to blame!... I could chat much longer with you, -dear one, but I have other notes to write; and my pen, or ink, or -paper, or something or other, will go wrong to-night, so as to make -the act of writing irksome, as well as the note untidy.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Another heavy blow, not less heavy because sooner or -later inevitable, was now drawing very near. Mrs. Tucker, -who had reached the age of eighty, had of late failed -steadily; and Charlotte must have seen that this dear -Mother was soon to pass away from their midst. Before -the close of July the call came; and already every word -that she spoke was treasured up by her daughter, as may -be seen in the following letter:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>July 12, 1869.</i></p> - -<p>‘So many thanks to my beloved Laura for her valuable and -gratifying gift, which reaches me to-day. Dear Mother has heard -your sweet music twice over already, and both she and Clara admire -it. So do I. I wish that your song were published, that more -might benefit from it. I am pleased that you occupy yourself in -composing, love. I dare say Mother will often ask for her Laura’s -song. “Is not she a darling?” exclaimed Mother to-day.</p> - -<p>‘I not unfrequently sing, “Hark, my soul,” to sweet Mamma. It -is better to go over and over the same than to give much variety, -though I sometimes sing “Rock of Ages” also. I heard Mother<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> -saying to herself one day, “Jesus speaks, and speaks to me”; and -she once observed of that hymn, “That takes one to heaven.”</p> - -<p>‘Dear Mother is much the same; not ill; with no fever, no pain; -just very delicate and weak. She was so particularly sweet yesterday, -Sunday. She looked lovely sitting by the large open window, -with a light gauze veil to keep off the flies. Mother said that it -had been “a holy day”—“a solemn day,”—and twice asked me to -read the Bible to her.... Once after waking she observed that -she felt “between Heaven and earth.” Mother has repeatedly -alluded to her dream of being in Heaven with Mrs. Thornhill; and -often talks of her father,—“such a holy man!”</p> - -<p>‘She said yesterday, “I have been dreaming.” I observed, “I -hope they were pleasant dreams.” “Mostly prayerful,” was her -reply.... She is very serene and peaceful, which is such a mercy.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>July 24, 1869.</i></p> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Beloved Laura</span>,—So tenderly and so gently the Lord has -dealt with our sweetest Mother! She woke this morning, and told -Cousins that she herself had slept too long. There was a slight -feeling of sickness about eight, which made Cousins call poor Clara. -In about an hour she gently fell asleep.... No pain nor even consciousness -at the last. I had gone to London on business, as you -know. I was telegraphed to; but ere I arrived she—the sweet, the -beloved—was where she had wished to be. O Laura, Laura, she -has long been drinking the <em>dregs</em> of life, however sweetened by -affection. I felt for her. But I seem as if I could hardly write -connectedly. All the three dear brothers have been here. St. George -still is here. Poor dear Fanny also,—she is to have my room, for -she is so thankful to be here. We have, however, only been allowed -one very brief glimpse and kiss of the revered remains. <em>Only</em> -remains, my Laura. Think of her bliss! <em>She</em> is not here.... -Your fond</p> - -<p class="right">‘C. M. T.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>In Charlotte’s desk, kept as one of her greatest treasures, -and found there, years later, after her own death, was the -last note ever written to her by Mrs. Tucker. It contained -these words—‘<em>My precious Charlotte, you have been -such a comfort to me!</em>’ No wonder the loving utterance -was treasured up by the daughter through the rest of her -life.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> - -<p>During forty-eight years Charlotte Tucker had known -but one home—No. 3 Upper Portland Place. Now at -length in her forty-ninth year the inevitable family break-up -had come; and the dear home of her infancy, of her -girlhood, of her middle age, could be hers no longer. -No. 3 had to be given up; and the sisters had to go -forth into fresh scenes. The trial must to all of them -have been great; perhaps least so to the gentle Fanny, -already on the border-land of the Life beyond.</p> - -<p>As a first move, Charlotte and Fanny went together -for about two months to Sutton. An idea had, however, -arisen of a home, at least for a time, with their brother, -Mr. St. George Tucker, and his wife; and the next step -was to join them at Wickhill, Bracknell, in the month of -September 1869. This was Fanny’s last move. She was -taken thither, from Sutton, most carefully by Charlotte, -in a post-chaise; and the long drive does not appear to -have materially affected her. Although by this time -wasted to skin and bone, Fanny still kept about in the -house; spending much time in her own sitting-room, -yet often coming down among the rest for a short time; -and during this autumn Charlotte seems to have chiefly -devoted herself to Fanny. Before the close of November, -however, the end of the long illness was reached.</p> - -<p>One day, when speaking to her brother, in allusion to -her earlier good health and plumpness, Fanny observed: -‘My dear St. George, I have been imprudent.’ She did -not specify what manner of imprudence hers had been. -Probably, like many another in a thoroughly healthy -family, she had not soon enough read the true meaning -of suspicious symptoms. During some four years past -she had been steadily failing; and the end could but have -been a joyous release to one so ready to go.</p> - -<p>Thus blow upon blow had fallen between the years of -thirty and fifty upon the golden staff of Charlotte Tucker’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> -Will. Her Father’s death; the death of Robert; the -death of Letitia; the death of her Mother; the death of -Fanny; all these one after another make a list of sorrows. -Doubtless, <em>the</em> most keen and bitter losses which she had -to endure were, above all, the death of her almost idolised -Father, and the death of Letitia. No other pain would -equal these, dearly as she loved her brother Robert, her -Mother, and Fanny, until her own peculiar sister-friend, -Laura Hamilton, should be summoned away. Mercifully, -that blow was not allowed to fall until a very short time -before her own call Home.</p> - -<p>Charlotte was not crushed by these sorrows. This is -plainly to be seen. Although the wild spirits and abounding -glee of her childhood were toned down, she was still -active, still buoyant, still able to enjoy life. She sorrowed, -but by no means as one without hope; and if her life -was shadowed, it had not lost its spring. As time went -by, the spirit of fun and mirthfulness revived; and the -little ones in her new home could not fail to be a fresh -delight to one who so greatly loved children. Even the -earlier letters after her Mother’s death are not only calm -but cheerful.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Aug. 23, 1869.</i></p> - -<p>‘I cannot help hoping very sincerely that Uncle St. G. may find -a house near Bracknell, large enough to hold Aunt Fanny and -myself, as well as his own party. Would it not be nice? But I -am rather guarded about setting my heart on anything of the sort. -Aunt Fanny would like it very much.... It would be like a haven -to me. I think I know one young maiden who would not be sorry -to have her old godmother within reach of a walk. But I am -quietly waiting to see how things are arranged for me.... I have -to manage things for Aunt Fanny, as well as for myself, just as if -I were her husband. It is very new work to me. I am not, like -your dear Mother, accustomed to think and arrange about a mass -of property.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Dec. 2, 1869.</i></p> - -<p>‘I hope that my sweet Leila has not thought me unmindful of -her loving sympathy because I have not thanked her before for -her note. I am sure that you have heard of us from your beloved -Mother, who so tenderly shared my watch by the bedside of my -heart’s sister. O Leila dear, does not such a peaceful, holy departure -show us that our Lord has indeed taken the sting from death? -Without Him, how terrible would be the dark Unknown!—with -Him, how bright is the valley!</p> - -<p>‘Sweet Aunt Fanny quoted to me not long ago, I suppose in -reference to departure,—“When Thou wilt; where Thou wilt; how -Thou wilt!” I think that the last chapter which I read to her was -Romans viii. It is such a long chapter, that I stopped at about -the 25th verse, fearing to tire the dear invalid; but she made me -finish the chapter.</p> - -<p>‘I went out of the drawing-room window before sunrise to-day, -to gather flowers to make into wreaths. The gardener had not -opened the greenhouse; but I found much more than I should -have expected in the beginning of December,—even rosebuds. -The ferns look lovely still. A few days ago I made a wreath of -myrtle. I thought it like an emblem of my own sweet sister; -sweetest when bruised; with an unfading leaf; and a white, simple-looking, -yet lovely blossom.</p> - -<p>‘Good-night, my Leila. May the Almighty make you, my dear -Godchild, as unselfish, conscientious, and lowly as was the loved -one by whose grave I am to stand to-morrow.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Although the plan of living with Mr. and Mrs. St. -George Tucker was at no time regarded as a permanent -arrangement for the remainder of Charlotte Tucker’s life, -yet it actually lasted six years. For about eight months -from September 1869 they all remained at Wickhill. In -1870 they removed to Windlesham, in Surrey; and in -the following year, 1871, they again moved to ‘Woodlands,’ -at Binfield in Berkshire, nine miles or so from Reading, -and only about two and a half miles from Mr. and Mrs. -Hamilton’s home, Firlands, near Bracknell. Charlotte -had, therefore, from that time not only the interest of her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> -little nephew and two little nieces in the house, but also -of her sister Laura’s children within three miles. The -companionship of a very favourite brother and of his -affectionate wife, together with these little ones, work -among the poor, writing, and many other occupations, -made her life still a busy and a bright one.</p> - -<p>In one letter written to a niece from Firlands, in 1870, -she describes ‘the rural seclusion of this lovely place. -I am charmed with Firlands, and the groves of fragrant -pine in which I wander every morning.’ In another letter, -dated February 1871, she says: ‘I hasten to give you -the good news that Uncle St. George has taken “Woodlands” -for seven years. I am so glad, and I am sure -that you will be so also.’ This was to her Godchild. -Thus she entered upon the final stage of her English -life. Before the close of those seven years Charlotte -Tucker was in India.</p> - -<p>The following extracts from letters belong all to the -two or three years after her Mother’s death:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS LAURA V. TUCKER.<a name="FNanchor_18" id="FNanchor_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a></p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Feb. 10, 1870.</i></p> - -<p>‘I took Sir Frederick and Lady Abbott<a name="FNanchor_19" id="FNanchor_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> to-day to the Infant School -at Bracknell. They seemed to be much pleased, and so I am sure -were the Infants, as their visitors treated them with sugar-plums and -lemon-cakes, in return for a number of songs.... A translation of -my <cite>War and Peace</cite> has been made by Madame de Lambert, and is -coming out in the <cite>Musée des Enfants</cite>,—under the name, I believe, of -<cite>Le Soldat Aveugle</cite>.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Dec. 12, 1870.</i></p> - -<p>‘A lady was here the other day, who has a curious taste for -different creatures. She has had a slow-worm round her arm as a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> -bracelet—has kept an oyster which seemed to know her—and taught -frogs to come out of the water at the sound of their names. One day, -when she was quite young, she showed an old gentleman one of her -dear snakes, coiled up. He thought it an imitation-one, and said -something about good imitations,—when the reptile began to hiss at -him.</p> - -<p>‘“O you horrid girl, it’s alive!” exclaimed the poor old -gentleman, forgetting his politeness in his sudden alarm and -disgust.</p> - -<p>‘Baby is now thriving nicely, and getting quite fat. It is funny to -see her looking at the picture of the white kittens and cherries. She -gets quite excited, trying to clutch hold of the cherries with her tiny -hands.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>May 12, 1871.</i></p> - -<p>‘Many thanks, my sweet Leila, for your affectionate letter, and also -for your kindness in going to see Sarah Jones.</p> - -<p>‘My darling Letitia! Notwithstanding all that has passed since -she was last pressed to my heart, the sudden blow of her loss has -left, I think, a deeper scar than any trial before or after it. I seldom -mention her name; and now my heart seems rising into my throat as -I write of her....</p> - -<p>‘I feel tired, dear one, so will not write a long letter. I had a long -business walk before luncheon, and then the overland letter to Uncle -Willy to write, and a great deal of proof-sheet of the <cite>Lady of -Provence</cite> to correct.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. J. BOSWELL.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Nov. 13, 1872.</i></p> - -<p>‘I am very busy, for there seems an almost endless field for work -in making foreign wall-texts; quite a new occupation for me. In -Italy and Spain they will now be warmly welcomed,—India, Syria, -China, Labrador, all offer openings. I feel it so gracious in my dear -Master to give me this little work for Him, now that the power -of composing seems to be taken away. I find delight in going over -and over the precious texts, which I have to copy in various tongues. -I do not think that I ever before so realised their sweetness. I tried -to gild my own little works with Scripture truths; but now I have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> -pure gold to give to others,—without admixing with it any alloy of -my own.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>For awhile at about this time she seems to have lost -almost entirely her power of writing; the failure being no -doubt due to the state of her health, or to re-action from -the strain of all that she had gone through in past years. -She therefore spent many an hour in painting texts in -different foreign languages, on a large scale, to be sent -abroad.</p> - -<p>The sacred poem which closes this chapter was written -in the summer of 1871. It appeared in a little volume, -called ‘<cite>Hymns and Poems</cite>‘, by A. L. O. E.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p class="center">A DREAM OF THE SECOND ADVENT.</p> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘I dreamed that in the stilly hush of night—</div> -<div class="verse">Deep midnight—I was startled from my sleep</div> -<div class="verse">By a clear sound as of a trumpet! Loud</div> -<div class="verse">It swelled, and louder, thrilling every nerve,</div> -<div class="verse">Making the heart beat wildly, strangely, till</div> -<div class="verse">All other senses seemed in hearing lost.</div> -<div class="verse">Up from my couch I sprang in trembling haste,</div> -<div class="verse">Cast on my garments, wondering to behold</div> -<div class="verse">Through half-closed shutters sudden radiance gleam,</div> -<div class="verse">More clear, more vivid than the glare of day.</div> -<div class="verse">What marvel, then, that with a breathless hope</div> -<div class="verse">That gave me wings, forth from my home I rushed,</div> -<div class="verse">Though heaved the earth as if instinct with life,</div> -<div class="verse">Its very dust awakening. Can it be—</div> -<div class="verse">Is this the call, “Behold the Bridegroom comes!”</div> -<div class="verse">Comes He, the long-expected, long-desired?</div> -<div class="verse">Crowds thronged the street, with every face upturned,</div> -<div class="verse">Gazing into the sky,—the flaming sky—</div> -<div class="verse">Where every cloud was like a throne of light.</div> -<div class="verse">None could look back, not even to behold</div> -<div class="verse">If those beloved were nigh; one thrilling thought</div> -<div class="verse">Rapt all the multitude,—“Can HE be near?”</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> -<div class="verse">Then cries of terror rose—I scarcely heard;</div> -<div class="verse">And buildings shook and rocked, and crashing fell,—</div> -<div class="verse">I scarcely marked their fall; the trembling ground</div> -<div class="verse">Rose like the billowy sea,—I scarcely felt</div> -<div class="verse">The motion; such intensity of hope—</div> -<div class="verse">Joy—expectation—flooded all my soul;</div> -<div class="verse">A tide of living light, o’erwhelming all</div> -<div class="verse">The hopes and fears, the cares and woes of earth.</div> -<div class="verse">Could any doubt remain? Lo! from afar</div> -<div class="verse">A sound of “Hallelujah!” Ne’er before</div> -<div class="verse">Had mortal ear drunk in such heavenly strain,</div> -<div class="verse">Save when on Bethlehem’s plain the shepherds heard</div> -<div class="verse">The music of the skies.</div> -<div class="verse indent12">Behold! Behold!</div> -<div class="verse">Like white-winged angels rise the radiant throng</div> -<div class="verse">That from yon cemetery’s gloomy verge</div> -<div class="verse">Have burst, immortal—glorious—undefiled!</div> -<div class="verse">Bright as the sun their crowns celestial shine,</div> -<div class="verse">Yet I behold them with undazzled eye.</div> -<div class="verse">Oh that yon glittering canopy of light</div> -<div class="verse">Would burst asunder, that I might behold</div> -<div class="verse">Him, whom so long, not seeing, I have loved!</div> -<div class="verse">It parted—lo! it opened—as I stood</div> -<div class="verse">With clasped hands stretched towards Heaven; my eager gaze</div> -<div class="verse">Fixed on the widening glory!</div> -<div class="verse indent12">Suddenly,</div> -<div class="verse">As if the burden of the flesh no more</div> -<div class="verse">Could fetter down the aspiring soul to earth,</div> -<div class="verse">As if the fleshly nature were consumed—</div> -<div class="verse">Lost in the glowing ecstasy of love—</div> -<div class="verse">I soared aloft, I mounted through the air,</div> -<div class="verse">Free as a spirit, rose to meet my Lord,</div> -<div class="verse">With such a cry of rapture—that I woke!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘O misery! to wake in darkness, wake</div> -<div class="verse">From vision of unutterable joy;</div> -<div class="verse">Instead of trumpet-sound and song of Heaven,</div> -<div class="verse">To hear the dull clock measuring out time,</div> -<div class="verse">When I had seemed to touch Eternity!</div> -<div class="verse">In the first pang of disappointed hope,</div> -<div class="verse">I wept that I could wake from such a dream;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> -<div class="verse">Until Faith gently whispered, “Wherefore weep</div> -<div class="verse">To lose the faint dim shadow of a joy</div> -<div class="verse">Of which the substance shall one day be thine?</div> -<div class="verse">Live in the hope,—that hope shall brighten life,</div> -<div class="verse">And sanctify it to its highest end.”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘Fast roll the chariot wheels of Time. HE comes!</div> -<div class="verse">The Spirit and the Bride expectant wait,—</div> -<div class="verse">Even so come, Lord Jesus! Saviour—come!’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="I_CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII<br /> -<span class="smaller">VARIOUS CHARACTERISTICS</span></h3> - -<p>In the last few chapters we have had glimpses of -Charlotte Tucker’s life rather from within than from -without; chiefly in reference to her successive losses, and her -own feelings connected with those losses or with passing -events. Now we will try to obtain a few glimpses of her, -rather from without than from within; to see her as -others saw her, not so much as she saw herself. I do not -for a moment mean to imply that the two views must be -antagonistic. The view of a castle from within and the -view of that same castle from without are totally different; -yet they are not in the least antagonistic. The one is as -true as the other.</p> - -<p>In doing this it has to be remembered that A. L. O. E. -was a many-sided and to some extent a complex nature. -Hers was not a character to be lightly sketched in a dozen -lines. Probably no character of any human being can be -satisfactorily so disposed of; and there are complexities -in the very simplest nature. But the main outlines of -some people are more easily perceived, more ‘consistent’ -according to popular notions of character-consistency, -than the main outlines of some other people; merely -because they happen to embrace fewer opposites. There -were a good many opposites in the character of Charlotte -Tucker.</p> - -<p>All people did not see her exactly alike,—partly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> -because of necessity they looked upon her with different -eyes, and partly because of necessity she was not the -same in her manifestations to all of them. Being a many-sided -individual, one side of her became prominent to one -person, another side became prominent to another person. -While one friend remembers vividly her spirit of ardent -devotion, and another recalls especially her work among the -poor, a third pictures her sparkling conversation, a fourth -her spirited games of play with children. While one has -the strongest impression of her resolute sternness, her horror -of evil and self-indulgence, another cannot speak warmly -enough of her intense unselfishness and her unlimited -kindness, and yet another smiles over the remembrance of -her irrepressible fun. All these things were included in -her; but naturally not all these things were equally -apparent at all times, or to everybody who knew her.</p> - -<p>Nor need it be supposed that Charlotte Tucker was a -being all light, with no shadows. She was thoroughly -human. There were shadows of course,—what else could -one expect?—and she had many and many a hard fight, not -in girlhood only, but all through life, to overcome her faults.</p> - -<p>Again, it is not claimed for Charlotte that everybody -who crossed her path loved her. We do read in certain -little books, of a particular calibre, about angelic heroines -who were invariably worshipped by everybody in their -small world, without a single exception. This, however, -is, to say the least, uncommon; and with one of -Charlotte Tucker’s strong personality it would be all but -impossible. A very wide circle did most heartily esteem -and admire her, did most dearly love her. But of course -there were exceptions. In the course of her life some few -with whom she was thrown failed ever to come within the -grasp of her affectionate influence. But this was only -natural. Everybody is not made to exactly suit everybody -else.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p> - -<p>Among some of her most marked features were an intense -vigour and energy, an extraordinary force and vitality, -together with great eagerness in whatever she undertook, and -a burning desire to be useful in her age and generation. -She was very resolute; very persevering; very affectionate; -reserved, yet demonstrative; untidy, yet methodical; exceedingly -anxious for the happiness of all around; apt often -to think people better than they really were; generous to a -fault; unselfishly ready at all times to put her own wishes -aside; vehement and impulsive, yet never in a hurry or -flurry; unyielding, yet tender; severe, yet frisky.</p> - -<p>Of course there were other natural characteristics of -a different kind; weaknesses not wholly mastered; faults -not entirely conquered. She was not perfect,—who is? -The strength of determination would occasionally run -into obstinacy; the resolute manner could be a trifle -dictatorial; the very wish to help and please others might -be carried out in a way which did not gratify. With -all her exceeding kindness, hers could hardly be described -as the true sympathetic temperament. Opinions here -vary a good deal among the friends that knew her best; -but those who at different periods of her life lived for any -length of time under the same roof, will be able to recall -certain instances of an absence of tact, a lack of quick understanding -of the feelings of others, which certainly never -arose from want of a desire to understand. She had any -amount of heart, of pity, of thought, to bestow; but while -feeling fully <em>for</em> others, she could not readily so place -herself in the position of others as to feel entirely <em>with</em> -them, to see matters from their standpoint and not from -her own. The highest form of sympathy is a rare and -subtle gift; and it can scarcely be said that Charlotte -possessed this gift. Still, if any one did bring a burden -or a trouble to her, she would spare no pains to help and -to comfort to the utmost of her power.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p> - -<p>One direction in which she showed through life a -marked deficiency was in the housekeeping line. Both -early and late she had always an intense dislike and dread -of housekeeping. Whatever else she undertook, that was -if possible a thing to be avoided; and it seems to have -been an understood matter between her friends and -herself that anybody rather than Charlotte Tucker might -be housekeeper. Probably she had an innate sense of -want of power, an innate consciousness that she could not -do the task efficiently. If compelled to attempt it as a -duty, she would not refuse; but she never took to the -occupation, or overcame her dislike.</p> - -<p>Moreover, the gift of nursing was not hers. Although -in a threatening case of scarlet fever she could be the first -to offer herself as nurse, with entire unconcern about the -infection; although she shared with others the watch -beside Fanny’s dying bed, and later on the watch beside -Mr. Hamilton’s; yet she repeatedly speaks of herself as -no nurse, and alludes to her own want of experience. -Experience no doubt she might have had, before the age -of fifty, had her natural bent lain at all in the direction -of nursing; but the necessary gifts were not hers. She -had not the reposeful air, the placid voice and manner, -above all, the ready tact, which for good nursing are -essential. Self-indulgence, laziness, cowardliness were -unknown factors in her existence, and could never have -held her back; but here too there was probably an innate -sense of lack of power; and here too she never through -life took to the occupation, ‘as to the manner born.’ It -is noticeable also that, frequently as she would offer her -services in times of illness, these offers were seldom -accepted. Others doubtless knew as well as she knew -it herself that nursing was not in her line.</p> - -<p>Somewhat late in life, when a friend, after hours of -hard study, was endeavouring to rest, with a severe headache,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> -Charlotte would bring her guitar, sit near, and -sing and play to the sufferer. A gentle protestation was -of no avail; for so sure was she of her remedy, that she -only supposed her friend to shrink from giving her trouble, -and the music went on unchecked. This—which happened -repeatedly—was done with the kindest and most loving -intentions. Charlotte was devotedly fond of music, and -she did not herself suffer from headaches. But it is an -instance of the want of tact occasionally shown in small -matters. The <em>will</em> to do good and to help others was -abundantly present; only she did not always find the -right mode.</p> - -<p>It must not be forgotten, however, that, whatever her -natural disqualifications for the part of a nurse might have -been, she did in her old age so far overcome them as -often to take a share in tending the ‘brown boys’ of the -Batala High School when ill, in a manner which won their -loving gratitude, although she did not prove successful -as a nurse to English invalids.</p> - -<p>One who knew her intimately has written the following -short sketch, which is well worth quoting <i lang="la">verbatim</i>:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I think one marked point, physical and mental, in her, was her -tireless energy. Her very walk was indicative of this; the elastic -springiness of every step. Also of another point in her character, -stern determination,—the resolute folding in of her arms and hands, -as she paced along a road or up and down a garden,—drawing -herself up to her full height the while, with sparkling eye and -compressed lips. She was teeming with life and energy;—whether -it were over her favourite chess, when she would wait patiently but -eagerly, thinking out each move; or enjoying the small-talk of -society, watching faces and reading characters, to treasure them up -for painting in one of her forthcoming volumes; or teaching a niece -the beauties of sound and thought in the Italian of Dante; or playing -at some game of thought with young people; or reading aloud one -of her two favourite dearly-loved and untiringly-studied authors, -Shakespeare and Boswell’s <cite>Life of Johnson</cite>. She was very sociable, -lively, and threw her whole heart into the kindly entertaining of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> -guests of all ages. Her eldest brother used to be very much struck -with the unselfish way in which she bore any interruptions and calls -upon her time. Even in the midst of her literary work, she would at -once rise, leave it, and give her whole attention to any subject an -incomer might wish to speak to her about.</p> - -<p>‘Clever and stern, she was not one to be trifled with. Purpose -seemed woven into all her liveliness; and she tried to keep others up -to her level.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Another writes, in reference to the time when A. L. O. E. -was living at Birch Hall, Windlesham, with her brother -and his family, in 1870:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I had just arrived on a visit, and she came into the drawing-room, -kissed me, and said, “I am Aunt Charlotte.” She was not good-looking, -but was always full of life. Her ready wit and charming -conversational powers made her a welcome guest everywhere, and -made many a dinner-party at her brother’s house go off well.... She -was always thinking of others, and seemed to count time spent -on herself wasted.</p> - -<p>‘I well remember a time when I longed to see Windsor and the -Queen; and Aunt Charlotte immediately said she was longing for -the same thing, and gladly undertook to pioneer an expedition. I -was far from strong, but could not wait for lunch in my anxiety to -have a good place at the railway station, to see Her Majesty arrive. -Having seen me and my young cousin safely placed, Aunt C. disappeared, -and after a while made her way through the crowd, laden -with cakes for us all, finally producing a glass of claret for me from -under her cloak, which I was obliged to take then and there. Her -enthusiastic loyalty made her enjoy the sight, no novel one to her, of -our dear Queen, as much as any of us.</p> - -<p>‘Our evenings owed much of their brightness to her presence. -She could sing,—sometimes lively little songs, accompanying herself -with the guitar. Her ear for music was so correct, that on one -occasion she came downstairs from her room, to tell me I had played -a wrong note in a chord of Beethoven, and the exact note I should -have played.</p> - -<p>‘Sometimes she thought of games for us. One was called -“Statues.” We each had to pose as a statue, suggestive of some -subject, such as Melancholy, Joy, Fear, etc. Whilst she, personating -a visitor to the sculpture studio, would try to upset our gravity by her -amusing remarks on the statues.... She also invented a geography<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> -game for us, providing us with skeleton maps, and small round -counters, on which the names of towns were printed. As these were -drawn and the name called out, we had to claim them and give them -their places on the map. Whoever had a map filled in first was the -winner.... Sometimes we read Shakespeare together, each of us -taking a part....</p> - -<p>‘I think things were only a trouble to her when she had to do -them for herself. Nothing was a trouble if it helped another.... -Work for the Master whom she loved was her animating motive.... -She was, I think, the most unselfish character I ever knew. She lived -for others; whether in the great work of her life, the use of her pen, -the proceeds of which went to fill her charity purse, or in the simple -act of leaving her quiet room, on a dull, rainy afternoon, to play a -bright country dance or Scotch reel, and set the little ones dancing to -vent their superfluous spirits.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>These slight recollections are from the pen of one -among her numerous adopted nieces.</p> - -<p>Another niece, not adopted but real, says:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I think the first thought that would have occurred to any stranger, -as regards her appearance, was the peculiar fashion of her dress. I -remember her in the days of crinolines, standing straight and dignified -in her plain dress, without the least attempt at fulness in the skirt. I -should think it must have been always so; her individuality and -disregard of the world’s opinion were so strongly marked.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>This question of dress does not appear to have become -a matter of principle with her. She was simply independent, -and utterly careless of what might be said. She -had not by nature the art of dressing well, and she -‘thought it a bother.’ As observed by one of her -brothers, ‘Charlotte never cared what she put on. She -never had the art of amalgamating the different parts -of her dress!’ In plain terms, her taste in dress was not -good, and she did not take trouble to improve it. Nor -had she the knack of putting on to advantage what she -wore. Things that would have looked well upon another -did not look well upon her.</p> - -<p>Caps were a trouble, and she was most grateful to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> -any one who made her a present of a cap. She could -not make nice ones for herself, and she disliked the style -of bought caps.</p> - -<p>One little story of middle life days at No. 3 illustrates -her indifference to what she wore. A friend was staying -in the house, to go to a wedding; and when the time -came her bonnet had not arrived. Old Mrs. Tucker, -knowing that Charlotte possessed a new bonnet, and -knowing also that there was no fear of vexing Charlotte -by the act, lent this new bonnet to the friend, to be worn -at the wedding. Charlotte was then absent. But meeting -the friend, either at the wedding or afterwards, she noticed -the bonnet, failed to recognise her own property, and most -innocently begged to apologise for remarking what a -particularly pretty bonnet it was!</p> - -<p>She had unconsciously a good deal of manner, and -used certain gestures, which either were natural, or through -long habit had become a part of herself. One trick of -manner was that of clasping her hands, as an expression -of certain feelings; also her head was apt very often to -be slightly on one side. Seeing a young girl, upon -Sunday, busily engaged in copying music, Charlotte -Tucker sat down and looked earnestly, with her head a -little on one side. ‘People have different ideas about -occupations for Sunday,’ she remarked at length. ‘I, -for instance, would <em>not</em> copy music on a Sunday.’ The -hint, pleasantly given, was at once gracefully taken, and -the music was put aside.</p> - -<p>Another time this same young girl had been confessing -herself very much of a coward, and regretting the fact. -‘Oh, never mind,’ was Charlotte Tucker’s consoling reply. -‘Some day, when there is real danger, you’ll flash out!’ -Perhaps she was thinking of the scene in one of her own -little books, when a timid young governess confronts an -escaped panther.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p> - -<p>Once a young girl, at table, being vexed by words said -in depreciation of a near relative, showed her feelings very -decisively. A. L. O. E. afterwards put her arms round the -girl, and said, ‘<em>Quite</em> right, my dear!’</p> - -<p>Again, she had a mode of crossing her hands upon -her chest, with a meditative air. Many recall this attitude -as peculiarly characteristic of her. If she were thinking -deeply, her hands would instinctively take that position.</p> - -<p>She was very warm-hearted, and, as one has said, liked -‘to make you happy and pleased with yourself.’ Ever -eager to see the best in everybody, she wore rose-coloured -spectacles which now and then would lead her into thinking -of people much better than they deserved, and -‘disillusionment’ had to be gone through. Always -endeavouring to see the best, she often saw more than -the best; and small harm if she did. At least she ensured -thus the making of mistakes on the right side, instead -of on the wrong. The common tendency is so very much -the other way. The romantic side of Charlotte’s nature -would interfere with her judgment, and the impulsive first -view would be erroneous. When she had had time for -calm thought she generally worked her way to a sensible -view of a question. But the tendency to over-estimation -of others continued through life, and was perhaps especially -to be marked in her Indian Missionary work.</p> - -<p>In her religious opinions she was a warm Churchwoman, -belonging to the ‘Evangelical’ school of thought. -As she grew older, however, she became more and more -large-hearted towards those from whom she differed on -minor points, more and more ready to hold out a kind -hand of friendship on all sides. This side of her appeared -more distinctly, and developed more markedly, in India, -than in her secluded English home.</p> - -<p>Both at No. 3, and in her brother’s house, she was wont -to read aloud her own stories to her young nephews and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> -nieces, for the sake of their ‘criticisms,’ and perhaps -quite as much for the sake of amusing them. Some of -the then children, now grown up, recall those readings -with pleasure.</p> - -<p>Life at Binfield was quiet and regular. Charlotte kept -up her habit of early rising; and from eight o’clock till half-past -eight each morning she would take her ‘devotional’ -walk in the garden,—hands folded on chest, head up, -step firm and dignified. The impression left by her -‘dignity’ is strong, singularly so, when considered side -by side with a step so springy that some describe it as -even ‘jerky.’</p> - -<p>Mornings were mainly given up to writing in her own -room; and little was seen of her, as a general rule, between -breakfast and luncheon. In the afternoon she was always -ready for callers; and if not needed for them or aught -else, she would go and visit the poor. On these rounds -she commonly carried with her the conventional ‘bag,’ -full of painted texts and tracts.</p> - -<p>Evenings were devoted to sociable enjoyments; frequently -to music and dancing. Charlotte was an adept -at playing dance-music for her nephews and nieces; and -at Binfield she also danced a great deal with her brother -and the children. It does not seem that she had lost any -of her old light-footedness, whether or not she had had practice -during some years past. Sir Roger de Coverley, the -Lancers, and the Minuet were great favourites. When -the Gavotte began, the children stopped, for they could -not spring high enough; but Charlotte was able to make -the most wonderful springs. This does not look as -though her spirit were yet broken by all that she had -gone through.</p> - -<p>Besides playing for the children, she would plan games -for them, and would superintend charades; and when -they grew older she would read Shakespeare with them,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> -often knitting busily all the while as she read. Singing -too had a share in these sociable evenings. She still -steadily refrained from going out to parties at other -people’s houses; but she never failed to be present at any -party in their own house, not only making her appearance, -but contributing her utmost to the entertainment of -guests.</p> - -<p>Her village work included visiting of the poor, and also, -for a while, a class of big boys in the night-school. With -the boys she was not successful. They were very -troublesome and naughty, and she could not get hold of -them at all. This failure is curious, in contrast with her -after-success among the Native boys in India, those ‘dear -brown boys,’ as she often called them. Western and -Eastern boys differ considerably, however; and no doubt -the explanation resides in this fact. Also, an English -ploughboy requires different treatment from a high-caste -Indian; but she was ‘friends’ with boys of all castes there.</p> - -<p>In a letter to Mrs. Hamilton, written from Binfield, she -says: ‘The Curate is already a comfort to me personally, -for he has taken my night-class off my hands. I have no -scruple in letting him do so, for I believe it is far better -for the boys. They were too much for poor old Char. I -had seventeen last night, and felt my inefficiency.’ And -in another letter, soon after: ‘We had a talk about the -proposed Sunday School. I asked not to have boys. -My feeling is that I am too old for them.’</p> - -<p>She was not too old, many years later, for Batala boys; -but plainly she had not the requisite gifts for managing or -winning rough English village lads.</p> - -<p>A few recollections, jotted down by three of her nieces, -may close this chapter:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<h4>I.</h4> - -<p>‘In 1869 she came to her house near Sutton; but that sorrowful -year to her did not leave much impression upon me, probably<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> -because she was so little with us, and so much with her sister who -died in our house. I remember her next in the summer of 1870, -when my sister was born, coming into the nursery to announce the -fact, and afterwards showing us the baby, assuring us that she was -“as fragile as egg-shells.” She played the organ in our little country -church, and visited the poor,—on one occasion going out at night -to administer a mustard plaster to one poor woman, who thought -herself dying, and sent for Miss Tucker....</p> - -<p>‘As we grew older she would help us with our charades and games, -planning wonderful card games herself, and ornamenting them with -brush and stencil. It was she who introduced us to Shakespeare, -making me love him as no one else ever could, and making us read -him in parts.... On Sunday afternoons she would take us up to -her room, in order that my Mother might rest in peace from the -children; and there we always spent a delightful time, looking over -her dressing-case with its treasures, and listening to the histories of -each trinket and curiosity, or messing with her paints. I do not -remember that we ever felt ourselves to be in the way in that happy -room. It was during this time that she wrote <cite>The Haunted House</cite>, -which thrilled me with so much horror, that it was not until years -after that I learnt there was a spiritual meaning underlying the tale.</p> - -<p>‘She was never ill, but always felt the cold extremely in winter, -though she did not complain much. One day I came down to -breakfast, exclaiming, “How beautiful the snow is!”—when she told -me how pleased she was that I could say so, instead of saying, -“How <em>cold</em> it is!” When I was ill in the year 1872, she often came -to see me, quite disregarding the infection of my throat; she would -play her guitar to me, or, as I grew better, would patiently guide my -little fingers to the right places on the strings. She made up a -pretty letter in rhyme, and sent it in a stamped envelope to amuse -me. I do not remember her ever talking to me on religious subjects; -but her untiring energy and gentle patience made much impression -on me....</p> - -<p>‘My aunt would never give way to us little ones when she was -convinced that we were wrong; and I well remember a prolonged -struggle between her and my baby-sister, who was left in her charge -one day.... My aunt regarded the sin of drunkenness with the greatest -horror; she rarely mentions it in her books, and generally, where -it is touched upon, she writes with the deepest pathos, as in <cite>The -Great Impostor</cite>. She would only talk of brandy by its French name, -and considered it dangerous to take Tincture of Rhubarb, on account -of the spirit it contains....</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘My aunt would never have expressed disapproval of others, as -many of the younger generation do, who are of her own way of thinking. -Where she did not approve, she was usually silent....</p> - -<p>‘But stern as she was by nature, her intense love—the love of a -strong nature—made her gentle to the weaknesses of others. She -could not sympathise often with the weak, but she could pity and -love. Long years of home-discipline gave humility, self-control, and -gentleness.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<h4>II.</h4> - -<p>‘There are some lives that carry about with them an atmosphere, -as it were, of influence and example.... It was thus with “Auntie -Char.” We used to think and say, “How she would have admired -such a deed!”—“How she would have grieved at such a want of -courage!” if anything mean or underhand were done. One knew -beforehand what her opinion of the transaction would be; at the -same time her marvellous sympathy, so readily given, was the first -sought in cases of bravery or of moral courage....</p> - -<p>‘She rarely “preached” to one. I should say she rather suggested -little things that somehow were never forgotten. The letter I, for -example—when written with a capital letter—called for playful -comment. Up to the last I would often count in a fearful manner -the all too plentiful I’s in my letters to her....</p> - -<p>‘My father remembers “Sister Char” as the life and soul of their -nursery circle in Portland Place,—how in the gardens close by she -used to lead their glees and songs.... <em>We</em> knew what a great hand -Auntie Char was at games of all kinds. No one could play like -her. She seemed far younger than any child present, and was quite -an enthusiast in them, as in everything she undertook. No one could -play half-heartedly with her....</p> - -<p>‘Auntie Char had a wonderful way of strengthening and encouraging -one to open out one’s heart to her, and a great and rare -capacity for putting herself in “her neighbour’s shoes.”<a name="FNanchor_20" id="FNanchor_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> It was -during a visit to us, in the May of 1875, that she acquired the pet -name of “Fairy Frisket,”—the name of one of her own works,—owing -to her marvellous activity. She would come home after a long -day’s walking, and run lightly upstairs, faster than we young ones -cared to do. In many of her letters to me from India she playfully -alludes to this pet name.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<h4>III.</h4> - -<p>‘She never seemed to care a bit to receive any praise for her -books, and she never let writing interfere with any family duties. -She was wonderfully sweet-tempered, but there was no weakness in -her sweetness. If others were inconsiderate to her, I never saw her -resent it.... Her unconscious influence was, I believe, much larger -than she has ever dreamed. She was more utterly regardless of -personal ease and comfort than any one I ever knew, but was ever -ready to praise others....</p> - -<p>‘My aunt had a guitar on which she enjoyed playing as far back -as I can remember, and on which she used to play to us with much -animation and impressiveness, singing to her own accompaniment; -but I never remember her playing to herself for her own personal -amusement. One of her songs I do not remember hearing from -any one else. The refrain in each verse was—“Till green leaves -come again.” ... Another song that she sang took my fancy,—I -believe it was an old-fashioned one in MS.,—and she at once copied -it for me, making time to do so amid the many things occupying -her at the time. Most people would have let me copy it for myself, -as I was quite a girl and had plenty of leisure; but she never seemed -to do things like other people....</p> - -<p>‘Nothing that I can say would explain how beautifully unselfish -she was, how utterly regardless of herself, and thoughtful for others. -She was one of the few whom one could most truly call <em>noble</em>, and -yet so sweetly humble. I mourn her irreparable loss all the more -for the long parting since she left us for the Mission-field abroad.’</p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="I_CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV<br /> -<span class="smaller">1875<br /> -AN UNEXPECTED RESOLVE</span></h3> - -<p>It is not quite easy to say at what precise date the idea -first seriously presented itself to the mind of Charlotte -Tucker, that she might go out to India as a Missionary. -Some years earlier, after the death of her sister Fanny, -she had evidently regretted that she could not do so, -looking upon herself as too old. But the question again -arose—Was she really too old? That question Charlotte -now faced steadily.</p> - -<p>The plan of living in her brother’s house, never looked -upon as entirely permanent, had lasted several years; but -various causes pointed to a change before long as probably -necessary. In January 1875, Mr. Hamilton, who had long -been in failing health, passed away; and Charlotte seems, -either in anticipation of the event, or directly after, to -have had some floating ideas of making a home with her -widowed favourite sister. Here also, however, there were -certain difficulties in the way of an entirely permanent -arrangement; and meanwhile the thought of India was -becoming prominent.</p> - -<p>Charlotte was now close upon fifty-four years old,—an -age at which few women dream of making an absolutely -fresh start in life. Some are and some are not elderly at -that age; but as a general rule no doubt a woman’s best -and most vigorous days are then over, and she is more or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> -less disposed for an easy existence. Many at that period -can thoroughly enjoy travelling for pleasure. But to make -a new home amid new surroundings, to learn a new -language, to enter upon a new line of work,—these things -after the fiftieth birthday have a somewhat alarming -sound.</p> - -<p>Not so with A.L.O.E.! For her these fifty years and -more of quiet English existence had been years of -preparation, of training, of patience. For her parents’ -sake she had dutifully held back, during the noontide and -early afternoon of her history, from much that she would -fain have done; and though the latter part of her -‘afternoon’ had been full and busy, with freedom to do -what she willed, yet even this was not enough. At -fifty-four she stood practically alone, with no near relative -entirely dependent on her kind offices. She was absolutely -necessary to none. Had she been, she would not have -gone to India. But finding herself thus unfettered, the -thought came up,—Why not devote the Evening of her -life to Missionary work? Why not set an example to -others who, like herself, might with advancing years be -left free of ties? Or at least, why not put the matter to -the test of actual trial, and prove whether or not elderly -women, and not younger ones only, might go forth to -work among the Heathen?</p> - -<p>There was the question of health. Could she stand the -trying climate of India? Would she not be a mere -burden on others?—an additional care instead of a help?</p> - -<p>Well, at least she could try. If her health failed to -stand the climate, she could but return home. If she -succeeded, she might be the Pioneer of many more, who -would perhaps venture to tread in her footsteps.</p> - -<p>Had it been a question of going out at the expense of the -Society’s funds, the Society might rightly have hesitated; -but Charlotte Tucker had enough of her own. While<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> -placing herself under the authority of the Zenana Society, -and obeying orders, she would pay her own way; therefore, -no risking of Missionary funds was involved.</p> - -<p>No doubt she was peculiarly well adapted for the -attempt. Although thin and delicate-looking, she was -distinctly wiry, with much underlying strength, and an -immense amount of vigour and vitality. A woman of -fifty, who can lightly dance the gavotte, with springs -which a child cannot emulate, is not quite an ordinary -specimen of advancing years. The failure of power which -had followed upon the death of Letitia, lasting more or -less during some years, had now pretty well passed off; -and there seemed to be good promise of a healthy old age.</p> - -<p>She was generally sound, with no especial delicacy; -she did not suffer from any tendency to headache; she -was not fussy, or self-indulgent, or dainty as to her eating, -or particular as to personal comforts, or squeamish as to -her surroundings, or shy in making new friends, or afraid -of toil and trouble. All these things were in her favour. -She was in fact no timid shrinking Miss Toosey,—dear -little old lady that Miss Toosey was!—but a fine spirited -specimen of A middle-aged Lady of England,—well fitted, -it might be, to become even then A Lady of India. Those -who think of following the example of A. L. O. E. ought to -possess at least some of her qualifications. Had a Miss -Toosey, instead of a Miss Tucker, been the Pioneer of -elderly ladies in the Mission-field, the attempt would have -been a disastrous failure.</p> - -<p>Although the matter was not definitely settled until the -spring of 1875, it had plainly been for some time in -Charlotte’s mind as something more than a bare possibility; -for during many weeks she had been studying -Hindustani. She had, however, said not a word about it -to any of her relatives, beyond privately consulting her -elder brother, Mr. Henry Carre Tucker. She thought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> -much, prayed much, and waited to be shown her right -path: meanwhile beginning to prepare for what might be -her duty.</p> - -<p>When at length she gave out her intention, as a matter -already decided, the announcement fell among friends and -relatives like the bursting of a bomb. Nobody had dreamt -of such a career for ‘Auntie Char.’</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 430px;"> - -<img src="images/illus2.jpg" width="430" height="650" alt="" /> - -<p class="caption">LAURA</p> - -<p class="caption">About the Year 1871</p> - -</div> - -<p>The following letter contains her first intimation of -what was coming to her sister, Mrs. Hamilton:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<i>March 24, 1875.</i></p> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">My beloved Laura</span>,—I do not know when I shall send this, for -I hardly hope that when you know my plans for the future you will -say, as Henry did, a month ago, “Selfishly I should be delighted,”—but -I hope that when you have quietly thought and prayed over the -subject, you will not let your tender affection make you wish to keep -me back from the work for our dear Lord for which I have for some -time been preparing myself by hard study.</p> - -<p>‘Years ago I said that if I were not too old to learn a new language -I should probably—after sweet Fanny had departed—have gone out -as a Missionary. This year the question came to my mind, <cite>Am</cite> I -really unable to learn a new language? I find that I can learn, and -the only real objection to my going is taken away. Yes, sweet -Laura, the <cite>only real</cite> objection; for I can leave you rich in the -devoted love of your children. Thank God, <cite>you</cite> are not lonely; and -circumstances might easily arise to make it undesirable that I should -make a third or fourth lady in—perhaps—a Curate’s dear little -home.</p> - -<p>‘I have not come to my present decision in a hurried moment. In -the second week of February I made my Missionary project a subject -of special prayer; on the 24th I had an important interview with -Henry, with whom I had corresponded on the subject. He had no -fears as to my health standing the climate, or as to my being able -to learn the language. I began to learn it on the 14th February, -and by many hours of diligent study have nearly gone through St. -Matthew in Hindustani, besides making a vocabulary of more than -three hundred words, learning by heart, etc. I have thrown my soul -into the work, thankful and happy in the hope that the Lord would -open my lips, that my mouth should show forth His praise to the poor -Zenana prisoners in India. The enclosed, being the two last letters<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> -which I have received from the Secretary of the Zenana Mission, will -show you how graciously God has smoothed the way for me, providing -an escort all the way to the place which I now think of as my -home—Amritsar.</p> - -<p>‘But you will say—“Why choose India? Why at your age be not -content to work in England?”</p> - -<p>‘I will give you a few reasons for my thinking it desirable for me -to go to the East:—</p> - -<p>‘1. In that corner of the Vineyard the labourers are indeed fearfully -few; scarcely <cite>one</cite> to many, many thousands of perishing -heathen.</p> - -<p>‘2. Not one Englishwoman in ten is so well suited to bear heat as -myself.</p> - -<p>‘3. Not one woman in a hundred at least is so free from home-ties -as myself.</p> - -<p>‘4. There is a terrible want of suitable literature for Indian women. -If God enabled me still to use my pen, intimate knowledge of even -<cite>one</cite> Zenana might be an immense help to me in writing for my Indian -sisters.</p> - -<p>‘Do not grudge me, dear one, to the work for which my soul -yearns. You see by the enclosed that my arrangements are made, -and that expostulation would but pain me. I would have told you of -my plan some time ago, only I feared to distress you when you have -had so much of trial. But why should you expostulate, or why should -you be distressed? Is not Missionary work of all work the highest? -I only fear that I am presumptuous in coming forward; but it seems -as if my dear Lord were calling me to it; and my heart says,—“Here -am I; send me.” I own with shame that much that is unworthy -mingles with my desire to serve the Lord in India; but the desire -itself has, I trust, been put into my mind by Him.</p> - -<p>‘Cheer and encourage and pray for me, my Laura, that my Autumn -may be better than my Spring and Summer—that the richest harvest -come in the latter days. Ask the Lord to give me Indian gems in -the crown which He has bought for His servants.</p> - -<p>‘On the 28th February, at Holy Communion, I devoted myself to -the Zenana Mission. But I am bound by no vows. I go out <cite>free</cite>, -an honorary Agent of the Society.—Your loving</p> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">C. M. Tucker</span>.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Writing again on the 7th of May, she said: ‘I have -been formally presented to the Committee of my own<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> -Society, who were very courteous.’ The Society was then -known under the cumbrous name of ‘The Indian Female -Normal School and Instruction Society.’ A few years -later it separated into two distinct Societies; one of which, -‘The Church of England Zenana Society,’ Charlotte -Tucker joined.</p> - -<p>As was to be expected, her new plan met with some -opposition. Many who dearly loved her were most -sincerely grieved at the thought of such a parting; and -others were disposed to look upon the scheme at her age -as somewhat crazy. Small marvel if they did. Such an -attempt had not been made before; and the untried -always contains unmeasured elements of danger and difficulty. -Probably her unusual fitness for the undertaking -was hardly realised as yet even by many of those who -knew her best. She had not, however, the pain of opposition -from her best-loved sister, Mrs. Hamilton. ‘It will -be a sore pang to her to part with me,’ she wrote to her -niece, Mrs. Boswell; ‘but her feeling will be that she -gives me to God. And to my great comfort she does not -attempt to stay me.’</p> - -<p>Before going to India, she resolved to take another -voyage—a trip to Canada, for a farewell sight of her -nephew, ‘Charley’; the youngest of ‘The Robins.’ She -would have his brother, her other nephew, Louis Tucker, -for a companion on this preliminary journey. Of its perils -and pleasures Charlotte Tucker’s own pen can best tell -the tale.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. J. BOSWELL.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>May 24.</i></p> - -<p>‘I had more than an hour to wait at Paddington, but ——, who was -with me, gave me a little lesson in Hindustani. P. E. did the same -yesterday; he let me repeat and read from the Testament to him, -and then he read a little to me. I generally understood what he was -reading when he went slowly. I am so thankful to snatch lessons in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> -pronunciation.... Louis and I are, if all be well, to start in the -<i>Nova Scotia</i> on Thursday, at one o’clock.... What a beautiful -hymn there is in <cite>Hymns Ancient and Modern</cite>, “for those at sea”! -Not that I consider drowning a worse way of going Home than any -other. As a lady said, “We cannot sink lower than into our -Father’s Hand”; for it is written, “He holdeth the deep in the -hollow of His Hand.”’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Gresford</span>, <i>May 26, 1875</i>.</p> - -<p>‘I am almost packed, ready for my start to-morrow morning; but -I have a nice quiet time for a little chat with precious Laura. Loving -thanks for your sweet letter....</p> - -<p>‘You wished me to see Dr. Griffith. I have seen him to-day, -though not in the character of a patient, I am thankful to say.... -The dear old man appeared to feel real gratification at hearing of my -going to India as a Zenana visitor, inquired with interest about the -language,—health did not appear to enter his medical mind,—and -really affectionately gave me his blessing. I am glad to have it. I -told him that I am fifty-four, and Dr. Griffith made nothing of it. -Dear Aunt is so loving and motherlike; but she sympathises in the -cause, which is a comfort to me. It would have been very painful -had she disapproved,—almost as painful as if my favourite sister had -disapproved. Dr. G.’s visit really refreshed me.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">On board the Nova Scotia</span>,<br /> -<i>May 27, 1875</i>.</p> - -<p>‘I did not think that I should have had an opportunity of having -a letter posted from Derry, but it appears that I shall. I am now -quietly scudding over the Atlantic. There is not much motion in the -vessel, which seems to me to be a very large one. There are a great -many emigrants, but I doubt whether it will be easy for me to communicate -with them.</p> - -<p>‘You who are so kindly anxious about my comfort will be pleased -to know that I have a very fair amount of wraps, and am more likely -to suffer from heat than cold, seeing that my cabin port-hole is never -opened, and that the only way of ventilating it is by leaving the door -open,—a thing not to be thought of at night, as ladies’ and gentlemen’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> -cabins are not at all in separate parts of the vessel. By-the-by, -the latter part of that long sentence will not please you. I -should have broken the paragraph into two. I have at present the -luxury of having the cabin all to myself, and only hope that when -we touch at the Irish port, we will take in no fair passenger to -share it.</p> - -<p>‘Now I think I will go on deck.... I am perfectly well at present. -The only thing I fear is using up my oxygen at night. I have had -such a nice letter of welcome from Mrs. Elmslie.’<a name="FNanchor_21" id="FNanchor_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a></p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">CIRCULAR LETTER TO SEVERAL OF THE FAMILY.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>June 5, 1875.</i></p> - -<p>‘“Yes, you will see icebergs, plenty, more than enough,” said the -Captain to me on the 3rd. “This is an exceptional year for ice.” He -spoke so quietly that I did not at the time give full significance to -his words.</p> - -<p>‘But on the next day, the 4th, we beheld icebergs indeed,—I -believe more than a hundred, and some, O how glorious! Our -eyes were satiated with beauty. Now a bold iceberg rose before us, -reminding me of pictures of Gibraltar; but this berg was all of snow,<a name="FNanchor_22" id="FNanchor_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> -and, as well as we could guess, about 150 feet high. Then another, -most graceful in shape, appeared, like a sculptured piece of alabaster, -wearing a huge jewel of pale greenish blue; this, from its pure -beauty, Louis called “The Maiden.” We turned from its softer -loveliness, to gaze on that which I thought the finest iceberg of all, -the ruins of some huge amphitheatre.</p> - -<p>‘As we gazed, some of the bergs changed greatly in shape. The -“Maiden” split quite in two. Fancy these glorious wanderers from -Greenland or Labrador, with the sea-spray dashing against their -sides, showing that they were aground; for, as you are aware, the -mass of ice below water is far greater than that which is visible above -it. One could not but think, “What a mercy it is that we did not -pass those large icebergs in the night!” Had our great emigrant-ship, -freighted with 2000 tons of iron, dashed up against one of them, we -should have gone to the bottom like lead. Nothing more would -have been heard of the <i>Nova Scotia</i>, and the more than 600 mortals -on board.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘But the day was clear, and it was easy to give the bergs a wide -berth. Every one’s spirits rose. There was nothing but enjoyment -of the beautiful scene, admiration at the strange sights before us. -The sun at length sank; but a few icebergs loomed in the distance, -and I had an idea that we had almost come to the end -of the ice-tract. We had delightful music in the saloon, and all -appeared cheerfulness and peace. Even when my attention was -directed to strange dark objects on the ocean, which I could see -through the round saloon window, no thought of danger came into -my mind.</p> - -<p>‘At the invitation of another lady I went on deck, where I was -able better to watch the strange scene before me. Out of the ice-tract, -indeed! Why, we were in the very midst of <em>thousands</em> upon -<em>thousands</em> of masses of floating ice, through which the vessel very, -very cautiously as it were felt her way, sometimes stopping altogether. -Strange to say, even when I heard the keel <em>grate</em> over ice, it was very, -very slowly that I received the impression of danger. The night was -exquisitely lovely, the stars shining gloriously. I could hardly have -supposed that any star would have cast such a reflection on the -smoothest water as Mars threw on the still ocean.</p> - -<p>‘The brightness of the starlight, the quietness of the water, -greatly added to our chance of safety. One felt that a watchful and -skilful captain was cautiously piloting us, avoiding the larger masses -of ice, though our vessel passed right over some of the little ones. -I watched the tiny globes of phosphoric light which sometimes -gleamed on the water, and the dark objects which I knew to be pieces -of floating ice. There was pleasure in watching them; for though -reason at last convinced one that danger there must be under the -circumstances, a touch of fear, or rather sense of danger, rather -enhances enjoyment.</p> - -<p>‘I was tired, but lingered on deck, till a lady came up to me, and -suggested that we had better go below, as she believed that lights -were put out at eleven, and if we did not go we might have to retire -to bed in the dark. Down I descended to my cabin in the lower -part of the vessel. Some of the passengers on deck had been considering -the possibility, on so fair a night, and with Newfoundland -near,—for we had sighted the light on shore,—of our being saved by -the boats, even should the vessel be lost. But we remembered that -there were more than 600 persons on board. The Captain would do -well, if he could manage to place half the number in the boats. It -was clear that all could not expect to be saved.</p> - -<p>‘When I went to my cabin, I was not disposed at once to go to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> -rest. I knelt on my sofa, so as to be able to look out from my port-hole -on the ocean and its numerous floating fragments of ice, seen in -the starlight. Not only was the sense of sight exercised, but that of -hearing. Nine times I thought that I heard the keel grate against -the ice. I may possibly be mistaken in the number of times; but -the noise was distinct, and its nature not to be mistaken. At a short -distance—it did not look a hundred yards—the clear, smooth sea -appeared to be skirted by a tall hedge. It was not <em>land</em>, for occasionally -I saw a light gleam through it. I asked a seaman afterwards -what it was,—it was, as I suspected, a bank of fog between us and -the coast of Newfoundland.</p> - -<p>‘I watched till my cabin-light went out, and I was left in darkness, -save that my port-hole looked like a pale moon in the dark -cabin. I turned into my berth, but not at once to sleep. I lay -thinking, reflecting on the possibility of feeling the vessel going down, -down,—and reflecting on what an easy death drowning would be. -Still, I did <em>not</em> really expect to be drowned.</p> - -<p>‘The vessel stopped dead still,—I listened for the sound of pumping, -or of preparing boats. I heard one—to me—strange noise, I can -hardly describe it, between a blast and a bellow. I thought that it must -be a signal, and I was not wrong; for I hear this morning that it was -the fog-whistle from the shore. It seemed to me that it was useless -for me to rise; if there were any use in my returning to the deck, -dear Louis would call me. He would be sure to think of my life -before his own.</p> - -<p>‘After a while I went fast asleep, and did not awake till the bright, -clear morning, when there could no longer be the shadow of danger. -I rose, dressed, and went on deck. The sea was beautifully smooth, -blue, and clear from ice, except a few bergs in the distance. I had a -happy, thankful heart.</p> - -<p>‘One lady had remained on deck till past three. She told me of a -field of ice, and great masses of ice, through and beside which we had -passed; and she had seen the Northern Lights, which I am sorry to -have missed. The Captain never slept till the drift-ice was passed. -He was at breakfast, however, this morning, and I doubt not felt -very thankful. I believe that he has had three anxious, wakeful -nights; but the change in the weather must have been a very -great help to him. We had had such miserable dull weather, -and such heavy rolling seas. Last night all was so clear; and I -saw the stars, I think, for the first time since our starting. Please -pass this letter on; for I cannot write over the same thing to all -dear ones.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. J. BOSWELL.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">On board a huge River Steamer</span>,<br /> -<i>June 9, 1875</i>.</p> - -<p>‘Here we are steaming up the St. Lawrence to Montreal.... -Quebec is a wondrously fair city.... We went this morning to see -the Montmorency Fall, a cascade where a great volume of water -churned into foam dashes down a precipice 300 feet high....</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>June 10.</i></p> - -<p>‘I finish this off in Montreal, a very handsome, thriving-looking -city, with far grander buildings than Quebec: but it wants the -dreamlike, exquisite beauty of its sister. More kindness meets us -here.... Have you seen the account of the loss of the <i>Vicksburg</i> -in the ice, just three days before we encountered the ice off the same -coast? Only five sailors saved; not one passenger! We should -have gone down faster than the poor <i>Vicksburg</i>, because of our -heavier cargo. I should not have had a chance; and my gallant -Louis would probably have lost his (life), because he would never -have deserted me.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Although Charlotte Tucker’s Indian life lay still in the -future, this seems to be the right place for quoting a few -words from her pen, written after years of toil in the East. -Her mind was plainly reverting to the voyage above -described:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘It seems strange that the idea of an ice-bound vessel should -suggest itself to a Missionary, working in the “glowing East”; yet -it is so. We, in Batala, seem for years to have been labouring to cut -a passage through hard, cold ice, with the chilly bergs of Muhammadanism -and Hinduism towering on either hand. But though -channels which had been laboriously opened may be closed, <em>the crew -are by no means disheartened</em>. The worst of the winter is now, -we hope, over. We see on various sides cracks in the ice. A -Brahmin convert, brave and true, has been like a bright fragment -broken from the berg, helping somewhat to throw it off its balance. -The way is becoming more open, and there are tokens of melting -below the surface of the ice. We know that one day of God’s bright -sunshine can do more to make a clear way than our little picks can -accomplish.’</p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="I_CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV<br /> -<span class="smaller">1875<br /> -BESIDE NIAGARA</span></h3> - -<p>There can be no mistake about Charlotte Tucker’s -enjoyment of fresh sights and scenes across the Atlantic, -or about the fact that increasing years had at least not -dimmed her appreciation of beauty. Most kind and -warm hospitality was shown to her at Quebec, at Montreal, -and at Toronto. She was met at Oakville Station by her -younger nephew, Charles Tucker,—the latter in ‘a state -of joyous expectation’ which had kept him awake through -three previous nights. Then followed a welcome from his -wife, in their ‘pretty little home,’ elsewhere described by -her as ‘a Canadian settler’s little farmhouse.’</p> - -<p>While there, finding the life quiet, and plenty of time -on her hands, she ‘took to Persian characters,’ as ‘an -interesting riddle to solve,’ and also worked hard at her -Hindustani, spending many hours over both.</p> - -<p>Also she insisted on doing in Canada as Canadians do,—making -her own bed, and even essaying to accomplish -some ironing. Perhaps the last attempt did not meet -with brilliant success. She wrote home about it:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“‘Though seldom sure if e’er before</div> -<div class="verse">That hand had ironed linen o’er ...”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">the great matter is that the things are <em>clean</em>; but I own I -am glad that I shall have a <em>dhobi</em> in India.’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p> - -<p>Another day she wrote to Mrs. Hamilton: ‘The little -maid here amuses me. She is very fond of music, and -likes me to sing for her. She asked me—kindly—if I -would like my boots cleaned, and as I thought that I -should, the little dear cleaned them, and brought them to -me to show off her work,—as a six-year-old child of the -house might have done. She looks such an innocent -duck!’</p> - -<p>An expedition to Niagara was achieved with much -success; after which she wrote to one of her aunts in -England: ‘My nephews think me amazingly strong, and -yet I have become almost a teetotaller. Except your -little bottle of sherry, I have only tasted wine twice since -I left you. How I did enjoy your lemon-juice!’</p> - -<p>Her glowing description of the Falls themselves, sent -to Mrs. Hamilton, must be at least in part quoted. -Though an oft-related tale, it may perhaps gain some -freshness from her mode of telling it:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Clifton House, Niagara Falls</span>,<br /> -‘<i>June 22, 1875</i>.</p> - -<p>‘I must write to some dear one while the sound of Niagara is in -my ears, whilst the impression of Niagara is fresh in my mind; and -I direct my letter to you, sweet Laura, knowing that you will let -others see it....</p> - -<p>‘I have looked on the most glorious scene, I believe, that is to -be seen on this planet. How can I attempt to describe Niagara? -When I gaze on what is called “The American Fall,” I ask myself -a dozen times, “Is it possible that there can be anything more -beautiful?” ... though I have only to turn my head a little to behold -the “Horse-Shoe Fall,” which is even <em>more</em> gloriously beautiful. -The American Fall would make in itself twenty or thirty cascades -that would delight us in England. O the sparkling rush of diamonds,—the -white misty foam breaking on the picturesque rocks beneath,—the -accessories so beautiful,—the cloud-like veil so transparently -lovely!</p> - -<p>‘Earth here is so fair, with bold crags draperied with the richest -foliage, that one could imagine her contending for the palm with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> -water; but water carries the victory at Niagara; Earth but serves -to frame and set off her magnificence. If Earth be green, so is water. -Where Niagara plunges over her Horse-Shoe-shaped rocks, the -colour of the water is often brilliant, crystal-like green. Then as -the river emerges from its veil of spray,—spray sometimes rising -pyramid-like for hundreds of feet,—it assumes a deeper green, more -blue than that of the surrounding foliage, but pure in tint.</p> - -<p>‘A lovely, most verdant island, Goat Island, divides the two -grand Falls,—or, I may rather say, three, for one glorious cascade -is called Central Fall. In this exquisite island, and other smaller -ones, you wander amongst silent shady woods, or stand so close to -the rushing waters, that one or two steps would send you over the -brink into the cloudy chasm below. Perhaps, Laura, nothing can -better convey to you the impression left on me, than to tell you what -was my repeatedly recurring thought. “If I had to suffer martyrdom, -in no form could it appear more attractive than by being thrown -over Niagara!” To be launched into eternity, shrouded in that -cascade of diamonds, would rouse such a thrilling sense of the -beautiful and the sublime, that half one’s fears would be swallowed -up in something almost like joy. It would seem ten times more -horrible to be flung from a high tower on to the hard, cold earth. -This is not a mere fancy of my own. I find that I am not alone -in thinking that death would appear less repulsive at Niagara than -elsewhere.<a name="FNanchor_23" id="FNanchor_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a></p> - -<p>‘I have seen the many beauties of this place well.... I have -looked on the rapids above the Falls. They seemed to me an emblem -of human life. Such a rushing,—such a hurry,—chafing against -obstacles,—impatience, passion, excitement. Then comes the grand -leap—boldly, almost joyously, taken,—the leap into cloud and -mystery,—and below, the river emerges from froth and foam, -comparatively calm. One wonders that it is as quiet as it appears -to be after such a plunge!</p> - -<p>‘Yes, I shall never see such a sight again, till I behold the Great -White Throne, and the Sea of Glass, like unto crystal.</p> - -<p>‘We all wandered about yesterday, till we were too much tired to -wander more. We had intended to sit up to see moonlight on -Niagara; but instead of so doing we separated at 9. I soon fell -asleep, but I woke in the dim twilight, I suppose at about 3 <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span> The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> -opportunity was not to be lost. I washed and dressed, as much by -feeling as by sight, opened my venetian shutters, and walked out into -the verandah which commands a fine view of both Falls.</p> - -<p>‘I was in utter solitude, under the light of the moon. Not in -silence, for the sound of many waters is unceasing. I suppose that -for thousands of years Niagara has been praising her Creator, as she -does now. The sound is not at all <em>noisy</em>; on the contrary, it does -not disturb conversation, which surprises me.</p> - -<p>‘I sang snatches of the Hallelujah Chorus, as I looked on the -waterfall by moonlight. There was no distinct play of moonbeams -on the water; there was an immense amount of mist,—one felt as if -looking down on clouds. Presently the clouds in the sky flushed -rosy in the dawn; the moon grew pale; Niagara with her emerald -green more distinct. I waited till I had seen the sunrise—it was not -a very bright one—and then I retired to my room, and went to sleep -again.... Solitude is congenial at Niagara.... I do not care to -write on trifling themes now....</p> - -<p>‘A thought came to my mind as I was resting just now. As -photographs, however faithful, convey but a very inadequate idea of -the real Niagara, so must our highest conceptions of Heaven fall -short of Heaven itself. Who that has merely seen a photograph, -or many photographs, of the Falls, can drink in the beauty of the -living, bounding, changing, glorious miracle of Nature, which is -beheld here? Yet Niagara itself is but a bubble, compared with -“the glory which shall be revealed.”’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Towards the end of July she returned home, to spend a -few last weeks with her dear ones before bidding them -a long farewell and going forth to her Indian campaign. -Through all these weeks she does not seem to have -relaxed in her persevering study of Hindustani, or in her -struggle with the difficult gutturals which had to be -mastered. Apart from this she must have had enough to -occupy her time. Among lesser employments, she is said -to have spent hours at a time in looking through her -papers and letters—the collection of a literary lifetime—and -consigning masses of the same to destruction. One -cannot but wish that the destruction had been less -wholesale.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span></p> - -<p>The Dismissal Meeting of Missionaries was on the 11th -of October; and two or three days later the <i>Strathclyde</i> -sailed.</p> - -<p>To most of her relatives the parting was a good deal -softened by the conviction that Charlotte Tucker would -surely soon find herself compelled to give in, and to -return to England. One of her nieces can say: ‘We all -thought, when she left us for India, that she would fail in -health, and be obliged to come home again. And so I -could stand at the doorway, and watch her as she turned -round in our carriage to wave her last good-bye, without -any misgiving that it was indeed the last time that I -should see that bright smile.’</p> - -<p>But her sister, Mrs. Hamilton, the loved Laura of -early days, had a truer prescience of how things would -be. Speaking afterwards to a friend about that day of -parting, and about the intense, loving devotion which had -always existed between them, she said: ‘When my sister -and I parted from one another, it was a parting for ever -on Earth. My sister will not return to England on -furlough, as other Missionaries do, for the reason that she -could not again go through the pain of separation.’</p> - -<p>At the time little was said in letters about that heart-rending -pain. It had to be endured, and it was endured -courageously.</p> - -<p>So ended the fifty-four years of Charlotte Maria -Tucker’s English Life. She turned herself now, with a -smile of good cheer, to the eighteen years of her Indian -Life—the Evening of her days. Three-quarters of her -tale is told, counting by years. Only one-quarter remains -to be told.</p> - -<p>Fifty-four years of preparation; and then the Evening -of hard toil. Fifty-four years given to slow perfecting of -the instrument; and then eighteen years of use for that -instrument. This was what it came to. Not that her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> -English life had been without its uses and its fruits; but -the long, quiet home-existence had doubtless been mainly -a making ready—or rather, a being made ready—for that -which was to come after. The first was subordinate to -the second.</p> - -<p>Was it very long preparation for comparatively short -work? But the worth of work done does not depend -upon the length of time occupied in the doing. We may -better understand this if we think of our Blessed Lord’s -Life,—the Thirty Years of silent preparation and waiting; -and then the Three Years’ Ministry. Each moment of -His Life upon Earth bore fruit; but none the less, those -Thirty Years were mainly of preparation for what should -follow.</p> - -<p>There are some who would not agree with Charlotte -Tucker in considering ‘Missionary work of all work the -highest’; yet in one sense, if not in all senses, it certainly -is so. The soldier who goes on a forlorn-hope expedition -ranks higher in the minds of men than the soldier who -remains in camp; and the pioneer is counted worthy of -more honour than the settler.</p> - -<p>We hear in these days many a careless sneer levelled -at attempts to convert the Heathen, at the uselessness and -fruitlessness of such efforts. Nothing is easier than for a -man, sitting at home in his luxurious arm-chair, to flout -those who go forth into heathen lands. And there is a -certain trick of seeming common-sense in the arguments -used, which sounds convincing. So much money spent, -and so many lives sacrificed,—and for what? Half-a-dozen -converts, perhaps, in a dozen years, some of whom -prove in the end to be faithless, while others are very far -from being faultless saints. Is the result worth the outlay?</p> - -<p>As for the characters of some of the converts, we -only have to look at home, and to see for ourselves what -the average civilised and well-taught and highly-trained<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> -Englishman is—how very far in a large majority of cases -from being either blameless, or saintly, or entirely faithful -to his Baptismal vows. After that glance, one may feel -less surprised to hear of failures among young and -untrained converts, the whole <em>pull</em> of whose previous lives -has been utterly adverse to Christianity; not to speak of -the baneful effects of a surrounding heathen atmosphere, -always present after conversion.</p> - -<p>But as to the main argument,—whether the result is -worth the outlay,—I should be disposed to say at once -frankly that, from a purely mercantile point of view, it -certainly is <em>not</em>. Very often indeed the immediate results, -seen to follow upon Missionary work, are not at all -commensurate with the amount of money spent. Many -a Missionary has given his time, his income, his life, -his all, for the sake of no apparent results in his own -lifetime. There have been grand men, who have toiled -steadily on through ten years, twenty years, thirty years; -and at the close, if they have had any converts at all to -show for their labours, those converts could be counted on -their fingers.</p> - -<p>It may well be that one man brought out of the -darkness of heathendom is a prize worth fifty times—or -five thousand times—the money expended in bringing him. -But this would not be seen from the mercantile point of -view. Neither does it touch the true gist of the question.</p> - -<p>A little story told of the great Duke of Wellington, so -ardently admired by Charlotte Tucker, shall supply us -with a clue here. Whether or no the tale itself be genuine -hardly affects its value as bearing on the subject. A -young clergyman is stated to have one day, in the presence -of the Duke, spoken about foreign Missions in the -disparaging terms often affected by a particular class of -young men. One can exactly picture how he did it,—the -supercilious contempt of one who knew little about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> -the matter; and the careless looking down upon all who -did not agree with himself. But the Iron Duke is said -to have responded sternly:—</p> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Sir, you forget your marching orders,—“Go -ye into all the world, and preach the Gospel -to every creature!”</span>’</p> - -<p>If the Duke did not speak the words, they sound very -like what he would have spoken. It is a soldier’s view of -the matter, and it is the view which all true ‘soldiers and -servants of Christ’ ought to take. For this is no question -of mercantile views, of business arrangements, of what will -or will not repay, of so many converts more or less, of -success and failure. This is not in any wise a question of -results. It is purely and simply a question of Obedience. -The Church generally is commanded to preach the Gospel -throughout the world; whether men will hear, or whether -they will not. Individuals are bound to go, <em>if called</em>,—and -if not themselves called, they are bound to send -others.</p> - -<p>All of us who are Baptized in the Name of the Father, -and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, are bound to His -Service who is our Royal Master; and His orders we -have unquestioningly to obey. Whether or no we can see -the wisdom, the necessity, of what He commands to be -done, makes no difference. We are but privates in His -Army; and a private has no business with an opinion of -his own as to where he shall go or what he shall do in the -time of war.</p> - -<p>When the ‘noble six hundred’ of Balaclava were ordered -to charge the Russian guns, they knew the uselessness of -the act, the certainty of a blunder; but with that they had -no concern.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘Their’s not to make reply,</div> -<div class="verse">Their’s not to reason why,</div> -<div class="verse">Their’s but to do and die!’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span></p> - -<p>And though with our Royal Master we have no fear of -mistakes, the same spirit of absolute obedience must be -ours, whether or no we fully see the reasons for each -command. What would be thought of an English soldier -who, on being ordered to some lonely and difficult post, -were, instead of going at once, to begin to calculate -whether it were worth while,—whether the cost and trouble -of his going would be sufficiently repaid by results? Yet -such is the spirit in which certain soldiers of the Cross—somewhat -faithless soldiers, surely!—are disposed to regard -this great Marching Order of our Captain and King.</p> - -<p>Another way of looking upon the question is embodied -in certain popular ideas that, on the whole, the Heathen -may be hardly worse off as Heathen than they would be -as Christians. The less knowledge, the less responsibility, -we are told; and a good deal of cant is talked on this -subject. Those who have seen how things verily are in -heathen lands, those who have witnessed the awful and -desperate cruelties which there prevail, know what the -argument is worth as to the present life. While as to the -future,—let it be fully granted that ignorance means few -stripes, that every excuse will be made for those who did -not and could not know better, that increase of knowledge -must of necessity mean increase of responsibility. But -there again we come back to our ‘marching orders.’ If -Christ died for the heathen, if God wills that they shall -know the Truth and shall at least have it in their power -to rise thereby to higher levels, what are we to dare to -decide that they shall be left in darkness?</p> - -<p>The whole question of our duty as Christians, on this -point as on all others, hinges here,—Are we doing, or -are we not doing, that which God wills us to do? All -theories respecting outlays, values, results, sink into utter -insignificance beside this question. If we are called to -go, it is not for the sake of honour, it is not for the sake<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> -even of success, but it is simply for the doing of the Will -of God. If we are bidden to remain at home, it is still -for the doing of His Will,—and that Will includes the -spreading of the Church of Christ throughout the world. -Those who stay at home can at least help those who go -on this mission.</p> - -<p>In the matter of results very unreasonable expectations -are often formed. The best results do not commonly -appear at once, and may not appear for a lifetime. A -farmer ploughs his land, then sows his seed, and then -waits months for the harvest. The Church too frequently -scratches the hard ground with an impatient hand, drops -in a few seeds, and immediately breaks into lamentations, -because no instantaneous harvest springs forth.</p> - -<p>It may take twenty years merely to plough the hard -ground in some heathen spot, and to sow the seed; and -years more may pass before the first tokens of a harvest -are seen. Sometimes the fuller results are the longer -delayed. Mustard-seeds spring up a good deal faster -than acorns.</p> - -<p>The main work of Charlotte Tucker’s eighteen years -was to be that of ploughing. And whether few or many -converts rewarded her toil is an entirely secondary consideration. -They would have been very gratifying to -her own feelings, no doubt; and that said, all is said. -Results there were; but not all kinds of results can be -reckoned upon one’s fingers. Charlotte Tucker went out -in obedience to what she felt to be the Divine call, the -Divine command. So long as she was steadily endeavouring -to do the Will of God, results might very -well be left in His Hand. The Word of God does not -return to Him void; but naturally its working is not -always apparent to us.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="PART_II">PART II<br /> -<span class="smaller">LIFE IN INDIA</span></h2> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘O Spirit of the Lord, prepare</div> -<div class="verse indent1">All the round Earth her God to meet;</div> -<div class="verse">Breathe Thou abroad like morning air,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Till hearts of stone begin to beat.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘Baptize the Nations; far and nigh</div> -<div class="verse indent1">The triumphs of the Cross record;</div> -<div class="verse">The Name of <span class="smcap">Jesus</span> glorify</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Till every kindred call Him Lord.’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="II_CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1875<br /> -FIRST ARRIVAL IN INDIA</span></h3> - -<p>In the second week of October 1875, Miss Tucker left -English shores, never to return. The voyage was uneventful, -differing therein from her trip to Canada. On -its very next voyage the good ship <i>Strathclyde</i>, which -carried her to the East, went down within sight of Dover. -But no threatenings of such a catastrophe disturbed -A. L. O. E. on her way out.</p> - -<p>A fellow-passenger on board the <i>Strathclyde</i> wrote long -afterwards:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘My first introduction to A. L. O. E. was when I was lying in all -the helplessness of the first days of my first voyage, quite unable -to stir from the deck. I became conscious of a grey-haired lady -stooping over me, offering some <i lang="fr">eau de cologne</i>, and with a winning -smile asking if she could do anything for me. She was a good -sailor, and in those miserable days moved about amongst the sea-sick -passengers like an angel of mercy. Even then dear Miss -Tucker looked very frail and delicate; and one could scarcely -have expected that she would be spared for eighteen years to work -in all the heat and discomfort of India. One thing remarkable -about her on that voyage was the influence she had over the men -on board,—some of them quite indifferent, if not hostile, to religion. -No one could withstand her genial, loving ways; and it was a sight -to be remembered, to see her gathering the young fellows round -the piano, while she led off in some old English ditty.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Her own letters to Mrs. Hamilton, while on board, are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> -cheery as usual, and speak no word of pain or longing -for all that she had left behind; indeed the very first ends -merrily: ‘Please give my kindest love to your dearest -girl, and tell her that I have already hung up her famous -bag. I hope that no ayah will <em>bag</em> it! I could not resist -the pun, bad as it is.’</p> - -<p>There were five ayahs on board, and she soon struck -up an acquaintance with one of them,—a Christian ayah,—reading -aloud her Hindustani Bible, and delighted to -find that the ayah could understand what was read. ‘I -am bribing one to teach me,’ she wrote. ‘The ayahs -ought to be glad to help; for they, at least two or -three of them, seem to regard me as a kind of supplementary -nurse, and if they want to go to work make -over the baby to me.’ In the same letter she states: -‘We have a strong Missionary force on board; two Scotchmen, -the wife of one of them, and six Missionary ladies. -We have not quarrelled at all; but then, most of us have -been sea-sick!’—again a little glimmer of fun. ‘We lady -Missionaries get on very well together,’ she says in another -letter. ‘Very gentle and modest are the Misses A., “your -pretty girls,” as Lady I. called them to-day.’</p> - -<p>As to amusements on board, she wrote:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘Lady I. has started a game which dear Leila and Fred may -add to their store at Christmas. She wrote something, missing -out all adjectives. A gentleman went round and collected adjectives -haphazard from the passengers, inserting them in the places left -blank. The piece was then read out. It was a description of the -voyage and many of the passengers. Of course nobody could be -offended, because the adjectives came haphazard. But how your -young folk would have laughed when, amongst other personages -described, came—“Miss Tucker, of a <em>grandiloquent</em> disposition, with -other <em>bouncing</em> Missionary ladies.”’</p> - -</div> - -<p>About a fortnight later she wrote:—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span></p><div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘A contrast to —— is Mr. S., the competition-wallah, probably -the most highly educated man in the ship. I look upon him as the -Squire of the Mission ladies. In his most quiet, proper fashion, he -is ever ready to do our behests; and he never seems to tire of -hymn-singing.... He has evidently plenty of moral courage. The -very funniest thing was that Mr. S. was actually present at the -solemn conclave held by us six M. L.<a name="FNanchor_24" id="FNanchor_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> to decide whether we could -conscientiously attend a second theatrical amateur performance, -<em>Mr. S. having been the principal actor</em> in the first one, which we -did attend. It was as if Garrick had been present at a Clapham -conference on the subject of whether it were right to go to see him -act!!! Mr. S. was very amiable and good: he had taken a great -deal of trouble to amuse the passengers, and <em>his</em> part was perfectly -unexceptionable; but if we all absent ourselves next time I do not -think that he will take any offence. I proposed that we should all -sleep over the matter, one of my reasons being that I could not but -feel Mr. S.’s presence a <em>little</em> embarrassing. On the following day -we met without him, and decided that the question is to be an open -one; each M. L. is to judge according to her own conscience. I -believe that we shall divide; but this is not, we have agreed, to -disturb the harmony between the M. L.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>After a few days spent in ‘bright, beautiful Bombay’—these -are her own words—she proceeded by rail with -one companion to Allahabad. A pause at Jabalpur had -been planned, but this fell through; and they accomplished -the whole long journey of 845 miles without a -break. Wisely, her friends had insisted on first-class, -and she was none the worse for the fatigue. On the very -morning of her arrival at Allahabad she could say: ‘I -had a nice warm bath, and then a good breakfast, and I -feel almost as fresh as if I had not travelled 845 miles -at a stretch, but merely taken a little drive. Think how -strong I must be!’</p> - -<p>Later in the same letter, a long and cheery one, bearing -no signs of fatigue, she speaks of Mr. George Bowen, -an American Missionary, who had ‘laboured without intermission -for twenty-eight years’ in the East, and who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> -was known among Natives as ‘the English Faqir,’ on -account of his wandering and self-denying life.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘He will take no salary,’ she wrote, ‘but has earned his own living, -I hear, by teaching, supporting himself on the merest trifle. I -esteem it a great honour that I sat beside him at breakfast at the -Zenana Mission House last Thursday. Mr. Bowen looks quite skin -and bone, wondrously thin, but not in the least unhealthy, but as if -there were plenty of work in him still. He told me that he does not -“believe in age.” He seems to feel as fresh as he did twenty-eight -years ago; and yet at the beginning of his career he was so fearfully -ill that his life was given up, and he wrote his farewell to his mother. -As India has agreed so splendidly with Mr. Bowen, I asked him—as -I generally do those who thrive in the climate—whether he drank -only water. “Tea,” he replied, smiling. He gave his opinion that -to take stimulant here is “the way to have to leave the country.” -Almost all the Missionaries whom I have met appear to be water-drinkers. -I am particularly delighted with the American Missionaries -whom I have seen.... I am ashamed of ever having had a prejudice -against Yankees. I am attracted also by Native Christian ladies.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>On her way up-country she came in for the wedding -of a Missionary lady, and after her usual fashion she was -most active in helping; working hard at the making of -wreaths and at the decoration of the Ludhiana Church -porch. As the married pair were about to drive off, rice -was brought to be thrown; but somebody present objected -to the custom for India, as originally heathen, and liable -to be misunderstood.’ Then the horses shall have it!’ -declared Miss Tucker; and with two hands well filled -she went to the horse’s heads, and fed them, amid much -laughter, in which she heartily joined. Her own description -of the event is overflowing with spirit and enjoyment. -It is dated November 30.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I have just come in to rest a bit, and wash my soiled hands,—for -what do you think that I have been about?—at the express -request of the bride, helping to decorate the church for her wedding, -which is to come off to-day. This house is jammed full—that is to -say, a good deal more full than is comfortable; but the kind folk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> -would not hear of my leaving till after the wedding, so I do not -go to my home till to-morrow morning. Indian railways are regardless -of convenient hours. I, who was up this morning soon after -five, must be up to-morrow morning soon after three. Of course -I had to arrive here by starlight; and on the same night there had -been another arrival at one <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span> ... There is a grand tamasha<a name="FNanchor_25" id="FNanchor_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> -about the wedding. Every one seems pleased. It is Missionary -wedding Missionary, and—perhaps I had better go and make myself -useful....</p> - -<p>‘<i>Later.</i> Oh, such a pretty wedding! The little church fresh -white-washed within, clean as a wedding-cake. The porch almost -like a bower. A border of flowers on either side up the centre -made a kind of path. Then the presence of the school-girls in their -white chaddahs; the number of Natives in their picturesque costumes,—both -Christians and heathen, inside the church and looking in -from the outside,—all made a charming scene.</p> - -<p>‘But before we went to church, a Begum, a royal lady, granddaughter -of Shah-Soojah, came to see the fun. And only fancy, -Laura, I was left for perhaps a quarter of an hour to entertain the -fine old lady. Would not your Fred and Leila have laughed to -have seen me, making gallant efforts to keep up conversation with -my dreadfully bad Hindustani. I dashed at it, tried to explain why -I wore a black dress when I had lilac and blue ones at Amritsar, -told her that I had never been married, answered questions regarding -my family, etc. The Begum laughed, and I laughed, for I knew -that my Hindustani was very bad; but I did remember always to -use the respectful “Ap”<a name="FNanchor_26" id="FNanchor_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> to the princess.</p> - -<p>‘Presently the dear old Missionary, Mr. Rudolph, appeared. The -“pardah”<a name="FNanchor_27" id="FNanchor_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> lady, on seeing a man, hid behind an arm-chair. But -when I told her that it was “Rudolph Sahib,” the old lady said that -he was her father, and that she would make her salaam to him. I -hear that the Begum is almost a Christian, and she can read. -Wrapped in her chaddah, she walked with me to church, and stayed -through the service. I was close behind her. When it was over, I -managed to say a little sentence to her in rather better Hindustani, -“The Lord Jesus Christ is here; He gives blessing.” The Begum -gave a sound of assent.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Next day, the first of December, Charlotte Tucker -reached Amritsar,—the spot which she fully expected to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> -be her home for many a year to come. But Amritsar was -only a stage on the road to Batala, where her Indian work -really lay.</p> - -<p>All who know aught of India know the name of ‘The -Panjab’;<a name="FNanchor_28" id="FNanchor_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> that province to the far north, a land of five -great rivers, where in Mutiny days so much was done for -the preservation of our Indian Empire. Amritsar<a name="FNanchor_29" id="FNanchor_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> is one -of the larger cities of the Panjab, containing a population -of about 135,000 inhabitants,—Hindus, Muhammadans, -and Sikhs. It is the Holy City of the Sikhs, and has -their ‘golden temple,’ wherein they worship, and wherein -also is kept their sacred book, the ‘Granth.’</p> - -<p>Missionary work has been mainly carried on in the -Panjab by the Church Missionary Society; just as, in -many parts of Bengal, Missionary work has been mainly -carried on by the Society for the Propagation of the -Gospel. Where the one great Church Society has -obtained a footing, the other great Church Society does -not interfere in either case, but goes elsewhere in the -Mission field. It is greatly to be wished that this spirit -of courtesy were more widely seen in the working of -Missions generally among the heathen. During late years -the ladies of the Church Zenana Society have come in as -an additional help to the Societies above-named,—as true -‘handmaids,’ alike in the Panjab and in other parts of India.</p> - -<p>The Mission premises are about half-a-mile distant from -the City of Amritsar. A. L. O. E.’s first Indian home -was here; in a bungalow, surrounded by a large compound -or garden which was part of the Mission premises. -When she arrived, in the beginning of December, roses -were in full bloom, as well as abundantly-flowering shrubs -and creepers. The great banyan-tree, which grew and still -grows in front of the bungalow, was soon named by Miss -Tucker ‘The Mission Tree.’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p> - -<p>A warm welcome was given to her by the Missionary -ladies living there:—Miss Emily Wauton, who still labours -on in the same spot, though nearly twenty years have -passed since that day; Mrs. Elmslie, widow of Dr. -Elmslie, the Pioneer of Missionary work in Cashmere; Miss -Florence Swainson; and Miss Ada Smith;—not to speak -of the C.M.S. Missionary gentleman living close by.</p> - -<p>After her wont, Miss Tucker was very eager, very -bright, very anxious to become immediately one of the -little circle. That first evening, as they sat round the -table, she said: ‘I don’t want to be “Miss Tucker” here. -Can’t you all call me “Charlotte Maria”?’ The ladies -naturally demurred. ‘We could not possibly,’ they said. -Miss Tucker’s face fell a little; then came a happy -thought, and she brightened up. ‘Call me “Auntie,”’ -she said. ‘So many call me “Auntie.” All of you must -do so.’</p> - -<p>‘But we cannot directly. We don’t know you yet,’ -objected the others again.</p> - -<p>She was very much delighted when Mr. Rowland -Bateman, one of the Missionaries, began the same evening, -without hesitation, to speak to her as ‘Auntie.’</p> - -<p>Soon after, news came of the death of her brother, Mr. -Henry Carre Tucker. It was needful to arrange for her -mourning; and pending the arrival of other things, one of -the younger ladies offered to alter for her an old black -silk dress which she had. Going to her room, the young -lady knocked and said, ‘Miss Tucker, may I have the -dress now?’ No answer. Another attempt;—and ‘No -Miss Tucker here!’ was the result. ‘Unless you call me -“Auntie,” you will not have it.’ ‘But how can I so soon? -I don’t know you yet,’ was once more the unavailing plea. -Miss Tucker had her way, however; and thenceforward -she became ‘Auntie’ to an ever-increasing circle of -nephews and nieces in India.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p> - -<p>Some extracts from her own letters, written to Mrs. -Hamilton in the December of 1875, will give, far better -than words of mine can do, the impressions received in -her new position.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<i>December 2, 1875.</i></p> - -<p>‘It is early morning, before 6 <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span>, my first morning in my new -home. A cock has been crowing, otherwise everything is profoundly -still. I hear a cart in the distance. You will like to hear something -of my surroundings.</p> - -<p>‘Mrs. Elmslie came to meet me at the station; also Mr. Clark and -Mr. Baring. It was slightly bewildering, for, says Mr. Clark, “the -Bishop wants to see you; he and Miss Milman are to go off by this -train.” Now the thought most in my mind was, “I won’t let poor dear -Miss F.<a name="FNanchor_30" id="FNanchor_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> think that I desert her for new acquaintances.” She also -was going on by the train; but there was a pause at Amritsar station -for perhaps a quarter of an hour. So I had to be agreeable to the -Bishop, Miss F., and all,—and keep Mrs. Elmslie waiting besides.</p> - -<p>‘This is a splendid room of mine ... about twenty-four feet each -way, and so lofty. I am surprised at the elegance of these Indian -bungalows. Please put from your mind all idea of <em>hardship</em>.<a name="FNanchor_31" id="FNanchor_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a> I have -now lived in four bungalows, and all have elegant rooms, and there is -such an air of refinement that I have great doubts whether it would be -the correct thing to put out my hand and take a slice of bread off a -plate. Mrs. Elmslie is a lovely lady, tall, slight, fair; but however -tall, a lady every inch of her; she might be a Countess with her -meek dignity....’</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>December 9.</i></p> - -<p>‘I directed <em>via Brindisi</em> my sad letters to the almost broken-hearted -mourners, and I thought, “I will write no more by this mail. I -should only write on one theme, my precious, noble Henry.” But I -have since thought that I was wrong in this determination. My own -sweet Laura will be closing a heavy year.... If I can turn the -channel of sad thoughts, it is better that I should write, and not only -on one theme. She will like to hear of my home and my work, and -I ought to write to the darling!...</p> - -<p>‘What shall I say of Mrs. Elmslie? She is one of a million. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> -never met with any woman in my life so like an angel without wings. -Tall, fair, elegant, graceful, with a face that Ary Scheffer might have -chosen to paint for a seraph,—her soul seems to correspond to her -external appearance. Saintly as she is, she is not in the <em>least</em> -gloomy; she tries to make all happy, and is business-like and -practical. Fitted to grace a drawing-room, she throws her heart -into school-work, and seems to manage the house beautifully. It will -give you an idea how winning she is, when I tell you that Miss Wauton -and Miss Hasell call Mrs. Elmslie “Mother,” “Mother dear,” though -the name seems strange from one who looks quite as old as herself. -You should see Mrs. Elmslie with a black baby in her arms, looking -at it with such loving tenderness and pleasure too, just as its guardian -angel might....</p> - -<p>‘I must not fill up all my letter with my sweet friend, and it is nearly -time that I should take my morning walk. I always take a rapid -one in the compound, which is large, with a good many trees and -nice flowering shrubs in it. I hope always to keep up the habit, -which is so very conducive to health; but of course I shall not walk -so <em>fast</em> when the hot weather comes.</p> - -<p>‘It may give you a little idea of life here, if I describe yesterday’s -occupations.</p> - -<p>‘I rose about six, dressed, and wrote a little. My Ayah brought -me early breakfast. I went out and took my walk, then returned and -prepared for my Munshi.<a name="FNanchor_32" id="FNanchor_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> He is a convert, and was baptized last -month, with his two little children. The Maulvi, as we call him, is a -dear good man, but too indulgent for a teacher. He is not particular -enough in correcting my faults. I have an hour with him before -breakfast; and after the meal comes family worship—the morning -hymn, prayer, and chapter, always in Urdu.</p> - -<p>‘After prayers yesterday I returned for a short time to my room -and occupations. I was engaged to go to “the city”—within the -walls of Amritsar—with Mrs. Elmslie; for it is desirable that I -should see work going on. The conveyance is a kind of large box of -a carriage, contrived to let in air and keep out sun. Yesterday we -went to four native houses; Mrs. Elmslie went to a fifth, but went -alone. Such strange narrow lanes one has to go through; sometimes -on foot where the gari could not go, mounting up to the first floor of -the houses by very steep steps....</p> - -<p>‘We returned home after our city visits, and had dinner. Yesterday -being Wednesday, after dinner we went to church; we always<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> -attend the <em>Native</em> church. As the prayers are a translation of our -own Liturgy, I can join in them well enough, but I can yet make very -little of the sermon....</p> - -<p>‘I find it a good plan to go to Mrs. Elmslie’s Orphanage, and sit -and listen to the lessons, and thus learn myself. The girls in their -white chaddars<a name="FNanchor_33" id="FNanchor_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a> look, generally speaking, well and happy. I was to -have amused some of the younger ones last Sunday with Bible -pictures; but when I had had the sad letters I gave up my intention -of helping sweet Mrs. Elmslie in this way. I hope to do so another -time.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<i>December 13.</i></p> - -<p>‘I have so much to interest me here, and every one is so kind.... -I call this bungalow “House Beautiful,” on account of the -dwellers within it. It is also a nice refined place, with an extensive -compound, and plenty of trees and flowers. If I were not so busy I -should like to send you a sketch of it; but daylight seems too short -for what I want to do; and when once my mouth is really opened, -I shall feel as if I never could get through all the interesting work -that is to be done. The ladies here have a kind of general superintendence -of twenty-two schools—<em>not</em> Christian—but where they -are allowed to teach the Bible. Fancy what an opening!’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Dec. 13.</i></p> - -<p>‘There are some things in Indian life which would strike you as -curious. For instance, I have <em>five</em> glass doors to my bedroom. One -alone is never opened ... but through all the others people, -especially my Ayah, come in; and she never knocks.... Folk can -walk in from the outside of the house through two of my glass doors. -It is a very public sort of living, but it is Indian fashion. The great -thing is to let in abundance of air; and where air comes in other -things come in too. I have, however, “chick” blinds to my outer -doors; these are made of thin split bamboos; and if I let them down, -no one can see in. Of course they would not keep out my dear little -Ayah; she can always pop in by lifting the chicks. She is the only -one who really laughs at my bad Urdu.... My Munshi laughs a -little, but not in the same way. He is gentle and pleasing.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Dec. 21.</i></p> - -<p>‘I have been waiting to write to you till the tardy mail should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> -come in. But why wait any longer, when I have always so much to -say to my Laura now?—only I lack time—and light—for this is the -shortest day, and the houses are built to keep out light, which comes -in underneath a heavy verandah, so that I am sometimes obliged to -feel rather than to see....</p> - -<p>‘I did not open my picture-box for some time after my arrival, but -when it was opened it would have pleased you to have seen the -pleasure given by its contents, including your lovely tidies. Mrs. -Elmslie was eager as a girl, settling where the different pictures were -to be hung, jumping up on chairs, and keeping us up beyond our -usual hour for retiring, for she could not bear to leave the picture-question -unsettled. We had consultation, trying this place and that -place on the walls, trying to balance sides and keep all things straight. -For the angel-lady likes to have everything pretty.... It seems -to me as if both England and America had sent their cream to -India. But then Amritsar is a specially favoured place.... As is -natural where the Missionaries are first-rate, there is a great deal -of leaven working amongst the heathen.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Dec. 23.</i></p> - -<p>‘Though I posted a letter to your sweet Mother only yesterday, -perhaps I had better tell you of my visit to the Zenana of —— whilst -it is fresh in my mind. Dear C., Miss H., and myself went to-day to -visit this Muhammadan house. It is a handsome one, in the midst of -fine park-like grounds; and from the lofty verandah we had a better -view of part of our city than I have seen before.</p> - -<p>‘The Muhammadan Sahib has three wives. I suppose that they -were the three middle-aged or elderly native women who sat on a -bed; the other five women present, old or young, may have been -servants; but one of them, a handsome girl, with very dashing nose-ring, -and eyelids blackened on the edges, native-fashion, shook hands -with us as well as served us. There were a fair number of free-and-easy -little dark children playing about. The eldest is C.’s pupil; and -one of the first things done was to hear her repeat her part in a kind -of catechism—Christian, of course.</p> - -<p>‘One of the ladies smoked a hookah; had it been even invisible, -we should have been made sensible of its presence by an occasional -bubble-bubble sound, and then a perfume—to our minds by no means -odoriferous. Another lady had her teeth horridly blackened by what -she had been chewing; but, generally speaking, the natives’ teeth are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> -very nice and white.... I showed off my beautiful chatelaine, your -dear Father’s gift, which I think pleased; and Miss H. showed hers, -which is quite different in style. You must not suppose that this was -a mere visit of amusement.... No, we had Bible-reading and -hymn-singing; and afterwards C. was evidently holding a religious -discussion with the elder lady.</p> - -<p>‘<i>Dec. 24.</i>—I find that only two of the ladies were wives of the -Sahib; the third was somebody’s relation.</p> - -<p>‘Mr. Clark<a name="FNanchor_34" id="FNanchor_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a> approves of my Oriental tale, only he wishes some -names altered. He is going to give me a list of names, Muhammadan -and Hindu.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Christmas Day 1875.</i></p> - -<p>‘I was awakened in the night by the Indian Waits, children singing -in the language of the Sikhs ... one of their native airs. My -little Ayah came up to me and shook hands when she entered -my room early in the morning,—is not this the great Day, and is -not she a Christian?—so she may indeed rejoice and be glad in -it. I have prepared little presents for the dear ladies here, except -C., to whom I gave a wedding-present yesterday. I will pause -now, and go on later in the day, when I may better describe -our Indian Christmas. 6½ <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span> Orphans singing hymns at the top -of their voices. They are evidently very happy. They are to have -a Christmas tree.</p> - -<p>‘<i>Later.</i>—I have come home from church, from receiving the Holy -Communion. Thank God, the sheaves <em>are</em> being gathered in! -What would dear Henry Martyn not have given to have seen what I -saw to-day? So many Natives remained to share the holy Feast, men -and women, young and old,—in our little church there must have -been nearly if not quite fifty communicants. I received the Cup from -the hand of a Native. I felt the scene quite affecting. It is a great -privilege to be in India, and specially now, when the blades are -ripening,—though, oh, how few in number, compared with the -Muhammadans and heathen!</p> - -<p>‘After church and luncheon I went to the Orphanage Garden, to -help sweet Margaret<a name="FNanchor_35" id="FNanchor_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> to deck the Christmas Tree. In less than -half an hour the little guests are to be summoned to receive their -dolls, tops, books, etc. I expect a charming scene.’</p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="II_CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1875-1876<br /> -A HOME IN AMRITSAR</span></h3> - -<p>In the previous spring, when first Charlotte Tucker -decided to go out, she wrote in one letter a statement of -the financial plan to be followed. ‘I have arranged with -the Society,’ she said, ‘to pay 200 rupees a quarter for my -board and lodging, exclusive of Munshi<a name="FNanchor_36" id="FNanchor_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> and conveyance.’ -For this she had been told to expect a bedroom and a -bathroom; meals being taken with the other Missionaries. -She had also been told that she would require an Ayah -and ‘half a tailor.’ ‘I do not want superfluities,’ she wrote; -‘for mine is a modest income, and I should not like to -spend it all on myself.’</p> - -<p>Modest though it might be, she gave away largely, -restricting herself to a limited amount, and practising -great economy. After being for a while in India, she -seems to have been strongly impressed with a dread of -needless luxuries, and to have become eager to set an -example of extreme simplicity in the Missionary life. The -rigid simplicity which she cultivated was, no doubt, partly -a matter of pure economy, that she might have the more -to give away,—partly a matter of her innate generosity; -but partly also it arose from a deep-rooted desire to -remove the reproach, which has of late been often levelled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> -at the ease and luxury, real or supposed, of many -Missionaries in India or elsewhere.</p> - -<p>It is always a difficult question to decide in such cases -what does or does not constitute luxury. For example, -the number of servants kept, which often startles an -Englishman, is unavoidable to some extent, arising from -the very low wages given, and the small amount of work -which each servant will undertake. Indian servants sleep -often in the verandah or in outside huts, and provide their -own food out of their small wages; so, keeping several of -them is a very different matter from keeping many -English servants. Moreover, an Englishman, still more -an Englishwoman, labouring in such a climate as that of -India, <em>must</em> as a matter of simple safety have many things -which in England would be entirely needless. To walk -any distance under the heat of the Indian sun would for -the ordinary European often mean death. To ‘rough it,’ -to brave the climate, to be reckless of hardships, would in -the majority of instances be tantamount to suicide. Yet, -on the other hand, it may well be that under the guise of -necessity some things not necessary have here and there -crept in. A story has been told of an officer, himself -a hearty supporter of Missions, who received a very -unfavourable impression of one particular Missionary from -observing the large amount of comfortable furniture which -arrived at the said Missionary’s bungalow, for the latter’s -use. The officer felt at once, as he said, that the Missionary -‘was not made of the right stuff.’ He may have judged -hastily, and he may have been mistaken. It is by no -means impossible that the Missionary <em>may</em> have been -‘of the right stuff,’ despite his superabundance of home-comforts. -Nevertheless, such judgments will be passed, -and it is well if Missionaries can live a life that shall -render them uncalled for.</p> - -<p>The more closely modern Missionaries can approximate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> -to Early Church Missionaries, the better. One can hardly -picture S. Paul as settling down in a very luxurious -bungalow, with a very huge amount of luggage; and -though the conditions of life are greatly changed, and -allowance has to be made for the change, yet the principle -and spirit of Missionary work remain the same. Things -harmless may become harmful, if they prove an actual -hindrance to success in the work, if they cause an actual -lessening of influence. The question should be,—not, -How much may I allow myself?—but, How little can I do -with? This was the question asked by Miss Tucker, and -she set herself bravely, as the years went on, to test and -to prove how much or how little was truly needed.</p> - -<p>On first arriving she had of course to do simply as she -was told,—not always even that, without protest. When -the first Sunday came, she was informed that they would -all drive to church. Miss Tucker objected. She did not -like horses to be made to work on Sunday. She was told -that it was a necessity, but she was not convinced. She -would put her large thick shawl over her head, and walk. -Nothing could hurt her through that shawl! Others had -to yield to her will; not without fears of consequences; -and Miss Tucker trudged off alone, with the thick shawl -well over her head—heroically half-suffocated. When -they all came out of church, she would not wait to be -driven, but again severely marched off alone. However, -the result of this was so bad a headache—though in -general she never suffered at all from headache—that she -was once and for all convinced. Evidently she could -<em>not</em> do in India precisely as in England; and from that -time she consented, when it was necessary, to be driven to -church like the rest. Of course this question of walking -or driving depends largely on the time of year, as well -as upon the hour at which the Service is held. As will -be seen later, Miss Tucker never lost her habits of good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> -walking until quite late in life; and when the hour of -Service or the time of year rendered walking safe, she -always preferred it to being driven.</p> - -<p>Some friends who knew her best in India have been -requested to jot down their recollections, and have most -kindly responded. Certain ‘side-lights’ upon what she -was will be best thrown by quotations from two of these -papers as to the beginning of her Indian career.</p> - -<p>Miss Wauton writes:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I have been asked to put down a few reminiscences of A. L. O. E. -in her Missionary life in India. But how shall I do it? It seems -like being asked to help in painting a rainbow. We can hardly compare -her to anything else; so varied, so harmonious, so lovely were -the rays of light which she reflected. Spirit and mind were as a -clear prism, through which the light of Heaven fell, irradiating the -atmosphere in which she lived, and which shone out all the more -brightly when seen against the dark clouds of heathendom.</p> - -<p>‘The first mention of her intention to come out to India reached us -in May 1875. Well do I remember the evening when Mr. Clark, -coming to our Bungalow, with a letter in his hand, said, ‘Who do -you think is coming to join you here as a Missionary?—A. L. O. E.!’ -The title instantly brought to mind books such as <cite>The Young -Pilgrim</cite>, <cite>The Shepherd of Bethlehem</cite>, which had delighted us in our -childhood’s days. And now we were to welcome the well-known and -gifted authoress into our house! This <em>was</em> a privilege; and -earnestly did we look forward to the pleasure of receiving her; -though at the same time we were perhaps conscious of a slight shadow -of doubt crossing our minds, as to how far one of Miss Tucker’s age -would be able to accommodate herself to the new surroundings, and -bear the trials incident to life and work in a tropical climate.</p> - -<p>‘If such doubts did occur to us, they were soon dispelled by a -closer acquaintance with the object of them. The letters received -during the following months by her future fellow-Missionaries showed -with what whole-heartedness she was coming forth, prepared from -thenceforth to make her <em>home</em> in the land of her adoption, and to -devote all she was and all she had to the grand work of winning the -people of India to Christ....</p> - -<p>‘Miss Tucker reached Amritsar on the 1st Nov. 1875. The warm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> -kiss with which she greeted her sister-Missionaries showed the -affectionate nature; and it was not long before we felt that we had -in her, not only a fellow-worker, but a loving and true friend. At -her own request the formal “Miss” was soon dropped, and she was -always addressed as “Auntie.” The family of adopted nephews and -nieces, beginning with three or four, gradually widened, till it finally -embraced more than twenty members. Nor was this relationship a -mere formality. It represented on her part a very special share in -the sympathetic interest extended to all fellow-Missionaries, and on -their side a reverential love and esteem, which in many cases could -not have been deeper, had the tie been one of natural kinship.</p> - -<p>‘She soon became known amongst the members of the Indian -Church as the “Buzurg,” or “Honourable” Miss Sahib; and the title -of “Firishta” or “angel” was not unseldom heard in connection with -her name. And indeed they might well call her so. Every time she -spent even a few hours under our roof we felt that we had entertained -an angel, though not unawares, so bright were the memories -she left behind in loving words and deeds....</p> - -<p>‘She was so considerate for servants, that she would, during the -first hot weather, often stop her pankah-walas at two or three o’clock -in the morning, for fear of tiring them. Her face and hands covered -with mosquito-bites showed what she endured in practising this self-denial. -It took a long time to convince her that there was no hardship -in employing these men in night-work, seeing they had plenty -of time to rest during the day.</p> - -<p>‘A. L. O. E. lost no time in beginning to use her pen in the service -of India. I think it was the very day after her arrival that she came -to us with the MS. in her hand of a little book she had written on -her way up-country. It was called <cite>The Church built out of One -Brick</cite>; its object being to stir up the Christians of this land to give -more liberally, and to work more heartily, for their own Churches. -We were amazed, on hearing the little story read, at the wonderful -knowledge which Miss Tucker had even then gained, or rather, -which she seemed to have intuitively, of the people amongst whom -she had come to live. She said, “I want to Orientalise my mind”; -but she seemed to have been born with an Oriental mind. Parable, -allegory, and metaphor were the very language in which she thought; -and her thoughts always seemed naturally to clothe themselves in -those figures of speech in which the children of the East are wont -to express themselves.</p> - -<p>‘She always wrote her books in English, as there was never any -difficulty in getting them translated into the vernaculars. Many<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> -thought that, on this account, she would not care to study the language; -but she had no idea of reaching the people only through her -pen. She was determined, as far as it was possible, to use her own -lips in telling out the message of salvation she had come to bring.</p> - -<p>‘Accordingly, she was soon hard at work with primer, grammar, -and dictionary. At the end of a year she passed the Hindustani -Language Examination, and then began Panjabi. She learnt to -express herself intelligibly in both these tongues, though the -acquisition of them cost her many an hour of hard labour.</p> - -<p>‘How she did toil over them! I remember, when sharing a room -with her once, waking about four o’clock on a cold winter’s morning, -to see her, already dressed, with a book before her, in which she had -herself written in very large printed characters, that she might the -more easily read them, a long list of Hindustani and Panjabi words, -which she was busily learning off by heart. By this incessant industry -she acquired a large vocabulary, and was also soon able to read -intelligently many vernacular books, which gave her an insight into -the religious life of the people.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The Rev. Robert Clark writes:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I remember well her arrival, when she was received by Mrs. -Elmslie and Miss Wauton in the Mission House.... We felt that a -spiritual as well as an intellectual power had come amongst us.... -Like the great Missionary Swartz, she never went home on furlough; -and she never took more than a month’s<a name="FNanchor_37" id="FNanchor_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a> holiday in the year, but -remained at her post, hot weather and cold weather, sometimes -eleven months, sometimes twelve months in the year, during her -whole service....</p> - -<p>‘Her first endeavour on her arrival in India, as she said, was to -seek to “Orientalise her mind.” She noticed everything, watched -everything around her, sought intercourse with the people, and tried -to think with their thoughts and feel with their feelings, and to realise -their position and circumstances, in order that she might bring God’s -Word to bear on them <em>as they were</em>. It was in this way only that -she could hope to do them good....’</p> - -</div> - -<p>During the greater part of 1876 Miss Tucker remained -at Amritsar, cementing her friendship with the ladies there, -learning the Hindustani and Panjabi languages, studying<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> -the ways of the people, and writing little books for -translation into the Native tongues. At her age it was by -no means so easy to master a new language as for a -younger person;—indeed, hard as she toiled, she never did -absolutely master any Indian language colloquially, though -for a time she became thorough mistress of the Hindustani -grammar and construction. In later years much that she -had conquered, with such hard and persevering toil, slipped -from her again.</p> - -<p>Also, it was less easy for her, than for a younger person, -to fall in with <em>modes</em> of work, so entirely unlike aught to -which she had been accustomed. Her very warm-heartedness -and impetuosity were now and then somewhat of a -hindrance,—as when, on her first arrival, going into a -Zenana, she pressed forward and eagerly shook hands with -a bibi,—an Indian lady,—forgetting the difference of -Indian customs and English ones. Had it been a -Christian bibi, this would not have mattered. As it was, -the mistake was so serious, that it might have resulted, and -very nearly did result, in the closing of that particular -Zenana to all further efforts.</p> - -<p>The letters home from this time are so full and so -abundant, that the only difficulty lies in selection. By far -the larger number are of course to her much-loved sister, -Mrs. Hamilton. For the saving of space, it may be -understood in the future that letters not especially stated -to have been written to any one else, were written to -her.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Jan. 8, 1876.</i>—My expenses have been less than I expected. I -think that Margaret must be a very good manager.... I can now form -a rough idea of my expenses, and I think my sweet Laura will like to -see a rude estimate.<a name="FNanchor_38" id="FNanchor_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a> As rupees and annas may puzzle you, I write -in English fashion—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p> - -<table summary="Expenses"> - <tr> - <td>Board and Servants (there will be pankahs to pay for), say—</td> - <td>per annum,</td> - <td class="tdr">£80</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Carriage</td> - <td class="center">”</td> - <td class="tdr">15</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Travelling</td> - <td class="center">”</td> - <td class="tdr">25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Munshi, say</td> - <td class="center">”</td> - <td class="tdr">10</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Postage, say</td> - <td class="center">”</td> - <td class="tdr">5</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Dress, etc., etc.</td> - <td class="center">”</td> - <td class="tdr">20</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td></td> - <td></td> - <td class="tdr total">£155</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p>‘As I allow myself £270 in India, you see that I have a nice -balance to spend; so you may be quite easy, and I quite thankful, -regarding finances. One ought to thank God for independent means; -and I am very grateful to my honoured father also.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">FROM MRS. ELMSLIE TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Jan. 13.</i></p> - -<p>‘I am sorry to have been unable to write to you sooner, as I -should have wished to tell you how much we love your dear sister, -and how truly she has already become an honoured and trusted -member of our Mission circle. You know her gentle, loving, winning -ways too well to doubt our soon learning to love and cherish her; -but I dare say you also know her unselfish character so well, that -you will often feel anxious lest she should suffer on that account. She -had not been one hour with us before I found out that it is her -delight to be giving to others the comforts and honours which are due -to herself; and it shall be my endeavour that she shall not lose one -iota of anything that should help her, or of anything that is truly -good for her. Being the housekeeper here, I can manage this....</p> - -<p>‘Her understanding of the language and character of the people is -quite wonderful. I hardly think any one ever read character so -clearly and truly as she does,—or so charitably. She sees good in -all. And when she must acknowledge some blemishes, she finds -some kind excuse for them. “Thinketh no evil” seems written -on her brow. I believe she will do much for India, if spared; she -sees where teaching is needed, and her ready mind so cleverly weaves -the lessons into sweet stories which, when read by the people, will -do wonders in opening their minds. I hope she will be persuaded to -go to the hills in summer, for this work, which is so peculiarly her -own, can be carried on there as well as here, and at one-thousandth -part of the expense to physical strength.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">C. M. T. TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Feb. 1, 1876.</i></p> - -<p>‘I feel as if one of my chief works here must be to try and keep -up the spirits of my poor, anxious, overworked companions. I cannot -possibly take much work off their hands; but my loving, clinging -Margaret seems to feel it such a comfort to have an <em>elderly</em> friend to -lean on.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Towards the end of February Miss Tucker went, with -Mrs. Elmslie and two Bible-women, on her first itinerating -expedition,—not, as she herself said, to use her lips, but to -use her eyes. Writing while away, she says:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘Behold us here, my Queen Lily<a name="FNanchor_39" id="FNanchor_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a> and I, encamped in the midst of -a Sikh village, and living in a tent, without lock or key, with as little -sensation of danger as I had at Woodlands or Firlands....</p> - -<p>‘It was indeed romantic to travel along that wild path by starlight.... -Do you remember the well-known engraving of Una with -her lion entering a witch’s cave? Now, as I jogged along in my duli,<a name="FNanchor_40" id="FNanchor_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a> -while Margaret rode on her white pony, she made me think of that -picture of Una. She is so fair, so graceful, so pure-looking, with her -chiselled profile and her sweet expression; I could not make out, -however, anything that would do for the lion.</p> - -<p>‘Dear Leila’s most useful bag is now fastened up in our tent.... -Poor Sarah Jones’ night-bag is on my bed; please ask dear Leila to -tell her so, when she sees her, with my kind remembrances.</p> - -<p>‘Oh, a Sikh village is a curious place; built of mud, and pretty -thickly populated, it reminds me of an ant-hill. I wonder how such -houses stand the rains. The people are not very dark, and they seem -to be very friendly. It is not from rudeness that they crowd about -one, and examine one’s dress.</p> - -<p>‘It would have amused you to have seen Margaret and me -perambulating the village, going through its muddy lanes; sometimes -so narrow that one could have touched the walls on either hand,—or -nearly so. Do not suppose that we walked alone. We had wished -to take a quiet stroll together, but this was out of the question. We -carried a train with us; and when we had entered a tiny court, -inhabited by four families, when I raised my eyes I saw a set of -spectators perched on the wall above, like so many sparrows, gazing -down on the English ladies. One had not in the least the feeling of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> -being amongst enemies,—only once or twice I saw a man look sternly -at us. I concluded that these men were Muhammadans, of whom -there are, I believe, a few in this village. The Sikhs seem to be a -good-humoured, friendly set, who have not the slightest objection to -our speaking as much about our religion as we like. Some of the -people here—like the Pandit<a name="FNanchor_41" id="FNanchor_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a>—know Urdu, but by no means all of -them.</p> - -<p>‘But, Laura, you who have an eye for the picturesque, and a soul -for the romantic, you should have had a glimpse of us yesterday in -the Pandit’s house, at evening prayer! The long mud-built room -looked strange enough by day; but at night seen by the gleam of -one lamp, it looked—like the entrance to a cave or a catacomb.</p> - -<p>‘There sat the Pandit on his large mat, and at a little distance -his wife on a very small one, the dull lamp throwing their black -shadows on the mud wall behind them. A black buffalo calf was at -one end of the apartment; but the place was too dark for us to see -much of it. The Pandit bending over his book was a study for an -artist, with his white turban and his extraordinary spectacles. I -was asked to choose the chapter; I chose Romans xii. The Pandit -had such difficulty in finding the place, that it seemed evident that -he is not familiar with the Epistles. But he must have been pleased -with the chapter, when he did find it; for he not only read it, but -the one which followed it. Then came a long Sanscrit prayer.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>March 7.</i>—One of the things most admired has been a prism, -which I have as a letter-weight. The splendid colours which through -it an Indian sun casts on the walls excite much admiration and -pleasure. My little Ayah to-day asked me what my Zouave had -cost. I should hardly call her <em>my</em> Ayah, as, luckily for me, I have -only one-third part of the little woman. To have a whole Ayah -would be too much of a good thing.</p> - -<p>‘I took your <cite>Illustrated</cite> yesterday to show to the Mother-in-law of -the German Missionary.... I tried as I walked to the house to get -up a little German; but, O Laura, the Urdu had driven it almost all -out of my head. If I wished to call up a German word, up would -come an Urdu one! I did indeed remember “wunderbar,” and -“shrecklich,” so that helped me with the <cite>Illustrated</cite>, but they would -not have been very useful in a lengthy conversation.</p> - -<p>‘If I had had time to write yesterday, I might have given you such -an interesting account of the Panjabi Munshi, which I heard from -Mr. H. This Munshi, I forget his name, is the son of one of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> -four priests of the Golden Temple, and a man of character, some talent, -and influence. Mr. H., who is translating some of the Bible into -Panjabi, wanted ——‘s assistance. The Munshi courteously declined, -as he feared that the Bible would be contrary to the “Granth,” the Sikh -Scriptures. These Scriptures, so far as they go, Mr. H. says, are not -bad at all; and true Sikhs detest idolatry. “Well,” says Mr. H., -“both you and I worship the Great God. We will make a bargain. -If in the Bible we meet with anything against the Great God, we will -close the book at once.” The Munshi instantly closed with the offer; -and the result is that at last he has told Mr. H. that there is no book -in the world like the Bible. When the Munshi’s sister lay dying, he -nursed her night and day, and used to carry to her what he had been -reading with Mr. H.</p> - -<p>‘The Munshi’s father, the priest, seemed to have had rather a -natural fear of his son’s imbibing what he would consider wrong -doctrine. He therefore, with two friends, made the Munshi read -over to them what he had been busy about with the Christian Sahib. -After a while the priest observed, “At first I listened as a critic; -now I listen with interest.”</p> - -<p>‘What an honest, conscientious man the Munshi is, was shown by -his conduct to a rich tradesman in the city. This rich man paid the -Munshi to come and read the “Granth” to him,—I suppose for -amusement, as he himself is a Hindu and idolater. When —— came -to read, he saw an idol in front of the Hindu, and the Sikh positively -refused to open the “Granth”—his sacred book—in presence of the -idol. “Why,” says the Hindu, “you worship the picture of your -saint, so you need not object to my image.” But —— positively denied -that he worshipped the picture. “Bring one here,” he said; “and -in the presence of witnesses, I will tear it in pieces. Will you do the -same with your idol?”’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The following letter to one of her aunts, dated May 8, -1876, refers to the above expedition:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I see you have an impression that we Missionary ladies dress -oddly, behave strangely, and undergo all kinds of hardships. You -think that I slept on the ground when I went to O——. Not a bit -of it! Margaret and I took beds with us, and a table and seats and -cooking utensils, and a stock of provisions—and <em>Common sense</em>!!! -We were never the worse for our adventure. The Missionaries -scold each other more for imprudence about health than any other -thing, and I am the scold of the party, so that as I preach I must -practise.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘<i>2ndly.</i> As regards dress, I consider that we dress rather prettily -than otherwise. Of course in England it would look funny to see a -lady of my age all in white, with a topi and pugri and white parasol; -but it does not look funny in India. Why, the very soldiers look -like figures in plaster of Paris. As for the natives thinking us -“Chinese,” there is no fear of their doing that. I believe that we -Missionaries are much respected; we are treated with courtesy; -and one of us may walk alone through crowds of hundreds of natives, -and never have a disrespectful word....</p> - -<p>‘Then you so kindly take a little anxiety about my health; but -I do not know that I was ever better in my life. I fancy that I am -even a trifle fatter. Thank God, I have not had a touch of fever or -headache yet; and though my pankah has been up for days, I have -not cared to have it worked. Of course the greatest heat is to -come; ... but heat, except of course exposure to the sun, does not -seem to injure me; and I am more afraid of December cold than of -July heat.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>In April she went to Lahore for a visit, as companion -to a Missionary, left alone. Writing from there, she -observes: ‘Visits to Missionary stations are a part of my -education; and one which Dr. Murdoch strongly recommended -for me. He would have me running about the -country; but really I am too old to be a comet like my -nephew.’<a name="FNanchor_42" id="FNanchor_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a> And again, speaking of a walk through the -narrow streets of Lahore: ‘Presently we met a cart -drawn by buffaloes, which filled up the greater part of the -width of the road,—of course one does not expect -pavements for foot-passengers. Miss H. was a bit -frightened, and seemed to think that the big ugly creatures -would leave us no room to pass; but I could see that -there was plenty of room, if we went single file. And as -for being afraid of a stolid buffalo, that looks as if it never -would dream of goring any one, even if its horns were not -so set on that it <em>could</em> not do such a thing, there would be -small excuse for that. Why, Margaret one day, when she -was in Cashmere, saw a big black bear only a few yards<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> -from her, with just a little icy stream between, and she -was not terrified. One bear would be equal to a hundred -black buffaloes. I am rather struck by the amount of -<em>dash</em> amongst Missionaries! Miss —— is perhaps an -exception, but then hers is merely school-work. I think -that Margaret is a gallant lady, and that Emily<a name="FNanchor_43" id="FNanchor_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a> would -be true as steel. As for some of the gentlemen, I feel sure -that there is plenty of real heroism in them.’ In almost -her next letter she says of one of these Missionaries: ‘I -do hope that your cheque may make my nephew take a -<em>little</em> more care of his health. He is so careful of Mission -money, that he almost provokes us by travelling in ways -likely to make him ill. I believe that he has seriously -injured himself by economising in his own comforts. He -ought not to be knocked about, for he is very fragile -indeed.’</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>April 20.</i>—The weather is gradually getting warmer. The -thermometer in my verandah to-day, where it had been in the shade -all the day, was about 107°, that is more than twenty degrees hotter -than I have ever seen it in the most sultry day in England. But do -not suppose that I mind the heat, or that it has hitherto done me the -slightest harm. Thank God, I am in perfect health, not in the -slightest degree feverish. I charmed Margaret at dinner to-day. -“You are better in the hot weather than the cold,” she cried. “I -never knew you ask for a second help in the cold weather.” And -the two poor dear girls opposite me sat with plates sadly clean; -neither of them would touch a bit of meat.... Of course we shall -have the weather a good deal hotter presently, but then pankahs -will be up.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>May 8.</i>—There is a little romance going on here. A little native -maiden was betrothed to a native lad. Before the marriage came -off, the destined bridegroom and his parents became Christians. -The girl’s parents wanted to break off the match, and unite the girl -to a heathen. But <em>her</em> heart was set on her young bridegroom. -The case came before court,—Emily thinks about a year ago. It -was adjudged that the maiden was too young to fix her own fate. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> -she is old enough now, and she has kept true to her lover. The -final decision must be made in twenty-one days. The young girl—she -looks such a child—wants, I hear, to become a Christian. Emily fain -would ascertain whether she does so from love of religion, or only -from love for her boy. I hope to be at her baptism,—and her -wedding too, if all be well.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>May 29.</i>—I have done so few lessons to-day, I had better set to -them bravely. I have written out, large and black, so that I may -easily read in dim light, more than 1300 words, to go over regularly -every fortnight, masculine separated from feminine nouns. I know -others that I have not written down. But, Laura dear, all these -words—rather a tax on an old lady’s memory—take one on but a -small way in speaking this difficult language.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Early in June she yielded very reluctantly to Mrs. -Elmslie’s pressure, and consented to go for a short time to -Dalhousie; and the letter following was written at an inn -on the way:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Dâk Bungalow</span>, <i>June 13, 1876</i>.</p> - -<p>‘I have been giving dear Leila an account of the first part of -my journey; now I will go on with you. I slept a good deal in the -gari. I dreamed that I was talking with you about Margaret....</p> - -<p>‘Well, I reached the dâk bungalow (kind of inn) early in the morning, -took early breakfast, and started in my duli (kind of palanquin) at about -6.15. I wanted to start earlier, knowing that I had a nineteen miles -stage before me, and that the day would probably be hot. I had -nine men to carry me and my luggage. They made little of it, but -went at the rate of nearly four miles an hour, including brief stoppages. -Three times the poor fellows asked for leave to stop and drink water. -This of course I granted. Twice I was asked for bakhshish; but I -declined giving any until I should arrive, and then if they carried me -nicely I promised them something.</p> - -<p>‘They did carry me very nicely. When they had gone about ten -miles, and might be supposed to have grown pretty tired, then they -began to be lively, laughing and chatting together, I suppose to -beguile the way. It would be well if we took life’s journey as -patiently and cheerfully as these poor half-clad mountaineers. <i>Note -inserted.</i> Oh, doubtless it was a relay!...</p> - -<p>‘The thunder has been grumbling. Perhaps I may take a little -walk before I start on my long night expedition. This seems to be a -lovely place, but of course I shall not walk in the heat of the day....</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘It is indeed a miracle how a mere handful of Englishmen rule -such a country as this. Since I left Amritsar I have seen but one -English face, and that was the face of some one lying full length in -a duli which I passed. He was very likely ill. Yet one feels oneself -under a <em>very strong</em> wing of the law,—far more so than one does in -England. There have I been travelling with a band of natives to -whom threepence is a good present ... my language, my religion, -are strange, and yet I neither receive nor fear the slightest disrespect. -Is not this like a miracle?</p> - -<p>‘Thunder again! If I have a storm to-night in the mountains, -how sublime it will look!’</p> - -</div> - -<p>But though she enjoyed her time in the mountains, she -was eager to return to work; and even from Dalhousie -her letters contain chiefly details of what was being done, -there or at Amritsar, in her absence. On the 18th of July -she was on the road; and again she wrote from an inn:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I have bidden farewell to Dalhousie. The skies were weeping -violently when I started; so was not I!... Dalhousie is grandly -beautiful; but I have been asking myself why I have not been in -raptures with its beauties. I think that two things are wanting to -its perfection;—first, the soft blue haze which one connects with -distant mountains. High and hard, some snow-crowned peak cuts -the sky. You are told that it is a hundred miles off. You don’t -believe it! It is as clear and sharp as if only two. Then water is a -very great want, at least to me. Certainly, there is the Ravi, one of -the five famous rivers of the Panjab; but at Dalhousie it looks, at -least in June, first cousin to a swamp. One wants waterfalls. One-hundredth -part—one-thousandth part—of Niagara, glorious Niagara, -would be a boon at Dalhousie....</p> - -<p>‘It is a curious thing, dear Laura, that kind of <em>instinct</em> which -one acquires in India! I have often and often thought on the subject. -One feels as if one belonged to such a lordly race. It is that odd -kind of impression upon one that, though one may <em>personally</em> be -weak as water, one forms a part of a mysterious power. There is a -kind of instinctive persuasion that neither man nor beast would dare -to attack one,—except perhaps a vicious horse. One travels by -night, without the slightest protection, surrounded by half-clad, -ignorant semi-savages; one never dreams of fearing them. One -takes one’s early walk in a lonely place, where the cheetah or snake -may lurk, without the smallest alarm. They would not surely attack -one of the English!...’</p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="II_CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1876<br /> -CURIOUS WAYS</span></h3> - -<p>More than half of Charlotte Tucker’s first year in India -was now over; and still no thought of work for herself in -Batala had arisen. She knew about Batala, and was -interested in the place, no doubt, as in all other outlying -parts where Missionary work had been even fitfully -attempted. But Amritsar was thus far her home; and there -she expected to remain. She continued to study hard and -perseveringly, in preparation for fuller work, often lamenting -her own slowness in learning to speak; and already she -was making herself known and beloved by a few Indians,—either -Christian, or disposed towards Christianity.</p> - -<p>After her return from Dalhousie she wrote in joyous -strains: ‘Here I am at dear Amritsar again, which I -much prefer to the abode amongst the clouds.’ There -was some idea that she might have to go all the way back -to Dalhousie, to nurse a sick Missionary there; and she -was perfectly willing to do so, without hesitation on the -score of fatigue, without a thought of the long, troublesome -journey. No one else could be so well spared at that -period from Amritsar as herself; and this she fully realised. -‘If however dear Florrie rallies nicely,’ she wrote, ‘I have -not the slightest intention of going to cloudland again. -Pankah-land suits my taste better.’ Happily, it was not -necessary for her to go.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p> - -<p>It was in the spring or summer of this year that she -began to name her various new friends after certain jewels, -according to her estimate of their respective gifts and -characters. She possessed, in imagination, a jewelled -bracelet, representing the different Missionary gentlemen -of her acquaintance,—Diamond, Opal, Amethyst, etc. A -companion bracelet was supposed to represent the Missionary -ladies,—consisting of Diamond, Sardonix, Onyx, -etc. Also she had in mind ‘an extraordinary necklace, -Oriental pattern, formed of Native friends,’—those Indian -Christians, whom she had begun to know and to love, -many of whom repaid her love, and did not disappoint -her trust in the coming years.</p> - -<p>A little later, in the letter describing this favourite idea, -she adds: ‘Now we come to my yellow girdle, studded -with gems. This is composed of dear ones in Old England; -my own Laura being the Pearl nearest the heart.’</p> - -<p>A more prosaic and less romantic nature can perhaps -hardly understand, much less sympathise with, the delight -afforded to her curiously symbol-loving mind by this -manner of regarding those whom she loved.</p> - -<p>In July a letter speaks of ‘seeing more of the lights and -shadows of Missionary life’ than before. A certain young -Muhammadan, in whom they were greatly interested, -after long inquiry and hesitation, at length made up his -mind to come boldly forward, and to be baptized. -Arrangements were made for his Baptism in the Church -by a Native clergyman; the matter being kept as quiet as -possible, for avoidance of the opposition which was sure -to arise. Miss Tucker was told only on the morning of -the day what was about to happen; and great was her -delight, as well as her fear that some hindrance might -intervene.</p> - -<p>‘I had a kind of intuitive feeling,’ she said, ‘that something -might come to prevent the Convert from openly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> -confessing his Lord. I knew not how great the danger -was.’</p> - -<p>One hour remained before the time fixed for the Baptism, -when the young man—Babu G. he may be called—came -in, troubled and pale. His Mother had somehow -divined his intention, and was doing her utmost to prevent -its being carried out. She flung a brick at the head of -one Christian Native, who had had a hand in influencing -the young Muhammadan; she raved and beat her breast; -she cursed and tore her hair; she declared to her son that -if he became a Christian she would die.</p> - -<p>Babu G. believed all this, and was sorely shaken. -His Mother was brought to the Mission-house, and a -vehement scene followed. The old lady sat upon the -ground, pouring out threats and curses, beating her breast -and tearing her hair anew,—only, as A. L. O. E. somewhat -drily observed afterwards, she very cleverly avoided hurting -herself by her blows, and none of her hair seemed to come -out with all the apparent ‘tearing.’ But the young man -could hardly be expected to see this as a stranger would! -He wavered—hesitated—and at last gave way. The -Baptism did not take place; and the unhappy young -fellow, convinced of the truth of Christianity, willing in -heart to be a servant of Christ, had not courage to take -his own decision, but remained a Muhammadan. Bitter -tears were shed over his defection by gentle Mrs. -Elmslie; the first that Miss Tucker had ever seen her -shed.</p> - -<p>Such stories as this show conclusively that <em>the</em> work which -most of all needs to be done in India is to transform the -Mothers,—to educate a generation of Christian Mothers. -Their sons then will be Christian too. No power in the -world surpasses that of a mother over her children, -whether she be English or Hindu or Muhammadan.</p> - -<p>Charlotte Tucker’s stern side seems to have come out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> -in this stormy interview with the furious old lady. ‘Are -you not <em>afraid</em>,’ she demanded, ‘that God’s anger is on -you? You have been your son’s enemy. When affliction -comes, remember,—<em>remember</em>,—<em class="smcapuc">REMEMBER</em>!’</p> - -<p>Side by side, however, with this great disappointment, -were other more hopeful aspects of the work. Light -and shade naturally go together. A few days later she -wrote:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘The mother still holds her unhappy son in bonds, and forbids him -even to breathe the air of our compound.... But even about her -we need not despair. I was reading the Gospel to-day with the -sweetest-looking elderly woman that I have seen in India. All -beauty generally departs with youth, but this woman is really attractive -still. She was in bitter grief at the baptism of her eldest son; -when the next was baptized she blessed him; and now she is quite -ready for baptism herself. Such a sweet expression came over her -face yesterday when I reminded her of her former grief and her -present joy!’</p> - -</div> - -<p>On August 8th she wrote:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘The old Chaukidar<a name="FNanchor_44" id="FNanchor_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a> made us laugh the other evening by his earnest, -emphatic warning against our ladies driving out at night. He uses -sometimes almost frantic gesticulations. He told us that there is danger -of meeting at night a dreadful being, in appearance somewhat like Mr. -H.—a tall, fair, blue-eyed handsome young friend of ours!—whose -object is to <em>cut off English heads</em>. I have heard of a similar superstition -in the Hills; but there I fancy that Native heads, not English, -were in requisition. You can imagine from this what a funny fellow -the old Chaukidar is; but we look on him as true as steel. One day -Mrs. E. found him most good-naturedly pulling Iman’s pankah for -him. She was so much pleased that she gave him four pomegranates. -The old fellow was delighted, and at once gave three of them away, -keeping only one for himself. His friend, our half-blind Iman, was -one to benefit by his generosity.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The name ‘Iman,’ meaning ‘Faith,’ was bestowed by -Miss Tucker upon a poor pankah-wala, whose affectionate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> -disposition made a strong impression upon her. The poor -fellow, although half-blind, volunteered one day to walk the -whole twenty-four miles to Batala and back in three days, -to carry medicine to a sick woman there,—the wife of -the young Muhammadan, Babu G., above mentioned. -Iman himself was, to say the least, disposed to be a -Christian. These little side facts all serve to show the -manner of influence which was acting gradually in all -directions.</p> - -<p>In another letter, belonging to August, are the words: -‘We are rather on the tiptoe of expectation about our -Bishop that is to be. There is a rumour that good Mr. —— -is the man; but surely it is impossible that such -a shy, boy-like Missionary should be turned into a Right -Reverend Father!’ The appointment when made proved -to be that of Bishop French, well known in Mutiny days -as Mr. French of Agra, who utterly refused to allow the -Christian Natives to be banished from the town, as was -proposed by some faint-hearted people there. If they -went, Mr. French said, he would go with them; and he -undertook to answer for their faithfulness. His resolution -prevailed; and the little band of Indian Christians were -faithful to the end of the Siege.</p> - -<p>About this time a change took place, which A. L. O. E. -‘quite approved,’ but which she did not ‘like.’ Mrs. -Elmslie left the Mission Bungalow, to live at the neighbouring -Orphan House, taking charge of the orphans. -A superintendent under her had hitherto done the work, -but had proved inefficient; and the new plan was not -only better in itself, but promised to save money—always -a prime consideration where Missionary funds have to be -considered.</p> - -<p>On August 23rd comes a letter of some importance, -respecting the kind of Missionaries wanted out there. -This subject will recur from time to time in the course of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> -the correspondence; but even at so early a stage as this -Miss Tucker seems to have clearly grasped what was and -what was not required.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘It is very kind in you to send me the <cite>Illustrated</cite>. After it has -been seen here, and at the Orphanage, and by the dear, good -Germans, off it starts for Dalhousie, and Florrie probably makes it -over to the soldiers after she has done with it; so you see that you -benefit many by your kindness.</p> - -<p>‘I do not think that my Margaret at all enjoys being away from us -in the schoolhouse, though she keeps bright and brave. “The -Mother is as home-sick as can be,” was the description given by one -of our ladies, this house being the “home” meant. Of course, we go -over and pet her, and get her here when we can. I hear that -her room was leaking so last night; that must be looked to at -once. But rooms had a fair excuse for leaking; we had such a -storm!...</p> - -<p>‘It was amusing when Emily, Ada, and I were talking over our -youth the other day. Dashing, energetic games had been the delight -of my companions; and I begin to imagine that cricket, rounders, -and bolstering form no bad preparation for Missionary life. Dash -and energy and physical strength are very desirable. We want ladies -who fear nothing, grumble at nothing, and are ready to carry the -Holy War into the enemy’s camp. One of Emily’s many advantages -is that she is a fearless rider. I am rather alarmed at hearing that -an extremely delicate lady is coming out to us. We want hearty, -strong ladies, not sickly ones. The Missionaries are too short -of hands to be able to undertake much sick-nursing. If I were -to require to be nursed at night—which, thank God, I have not -done—I should feel inclined to run off somewhere or other, so as not -to tax the strength of my nieces.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Only two days later we have mention of the first Baptism -in Batala, her future home during so many years. She -writes: ‘A deeply interesting event took place yesterday -at Batala; the baptism of a Brahmin, a man in a very -influential position, and in Government employ. Dear -Sadiq<a name="FNanchor_45" id="FNanchor_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a> and I believe other Christians went to Batala on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> -Wednesday for the Baptism, which was to be as public as -possible—in a tank.’ This was written August 25; and -on the 29th she gave more particulars.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘The jackals treated us to their varied music last night; but one -does not mind them a bit, for they never seem to attack people, or -intrude into houses. I wish that they would teach their good manners -to the sparrows. The cheetah also is a modest creature. There was an -account very lately of a cheetah going into a verandah at Dalhousie; -nothing between it and the interior of the house but a chick blind; -but it was too polite to intrude. It would be rather exciting to look -at a cheetah through a chick blind; you can see through it quite well, -as the light is outside.</p> - -<p>‘But, O Laura, I ought not to waste my space on cheetahs or -jackals, when I can write of things so <em>much</em> more interesting. I had -such an interesting account of the Baptism of B—n, the Brahmin -at Batala, from Mr. Beutel,<a name="FNanchor_46" id="FNanchor_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a> supplemented by one from Sadiq. -They were both present.... Mr. Beutel observed that he (B—n) -had had to go through more than many do in a campaign. Why, -except the Catechist and his wife, he is the only Christian that we -know of in that fierce, bigoted Batala. As the Muhammadans did not -know of the time fixed for the baptism, at the beginning of the Service -by the tank not many people gathered; but seeing that something -was going on, gradually a crowd collected. At last the crowd grew -large—and excited also—and the police authority had to be called in -for protection.</p> - -<p>‘Perhaps the worst of all was the Christian’s reception at his -home; his wife came with her three little ones to meet him, beating -her breast, etc. Sadiq had intended to carry B—n back to -Amritsar with him, to let the first fury of the storm blow over; but -poor B—n preferred remaining at Batala, because if he left his -wife, he did not know what she might do with his children. So there -the brave fellow remains. We ought to pray earnestly for this our -brother.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>In a letter to her niece, Mrs. Boswell, on September 1st, -Charlotte Tucker spoke of herself as ‘heart-sick with -anxiety’ about the convert, regretting much that he had -not come to Amritsar.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘Would that he could have carried wife and children off with him! -but I suppose that this was impossible, against the woman’s will. -Dear Sadiq soon went again to Batala;—alas! he was not suffered to -see the convert, who is surrounded by enemies, and seems to be quite -in their power. B—n’s wife, after starving herself for three days from -grief at his baptism, has died, it is said from an attack of cholera.</p> - -<p>‘Our fear is that the heathen are starving B—n and his three -children to death! One poor lamb is but a few months old. If I -were a man, I would be off to Batala. My friend Mr. H. has written -a strong note to an English official at no great distance from Batala,—there -<em>not one</em> Englishman resides,—and I feel little doubt that he -will bring the strong arm of the law to protect B—n. But the note -will not reach till this evening. For eight days B—n will have -been in the fiery furnace. How long can he hold out?’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Reports, happily false, of the retractation of the convert -came to distress them at Amritsar; and Mr. Beutel, -leaving his wife and mother dangerously ill, went over to -Batala to inquire how matters stood. He found B—n, -though much tried and sorely pressed, still standing -firm.</p> - -<p>It is melancholy to read of Charlotte Tucker’s eager -delight in carrying the good news to her favourite -Maulvi Z.,—of whom at that time she thought so well -and hopefully as an established Christian, and who in -later years was to grieve her most bitterly by himself -becoming an apostate.</p> - -<p>Letters at this time show her steadily growing interest -in Batala, her ever-increasing desire for systematic work -there.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Sept. 14, 1876.</i>—I have been delaying writing till I could give you -news from Batala,—that place towards which Missionary eyes -longingly turn, as those of the Germans did towards Strasburg. -May Batala be given to us, as Strasburg was to them.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Sept. 20.</i>—As regards my little Indian tales, I have sent a good -many to Nelson, who has accepted them; and consequently I -suppose intends to publish them. It is very likely that they have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> -been appearing in the <cite>Family Treasury</cite>.... Sadiq had just come -from Batala, where he had seen B—n. Dear Sadiq! I think that -he must have gone altogether seven or eight times to Batala. He is -a friend worth having. B—n expressed his willingness to bring his -little girls to Amritsar; but his baby was so very, very ill, that he feared -she could not be moved.... The little lamb appeared to be sinking -fast. My surprise is how she has been kept alive so long. The last -account was that the baby was “not fit to be picked off the charpai”;<a name="FNanchor_47" id="FNanchor_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a> -she seemed dying. Dear little martyred innocent,—dying because -her father gave himself to Christ! B—n intends to bring his two -elder children; but of course nothing can be done while baby is -dying....</p> - -<p>‘O Laura, I feel as if these two deaths in Batala marked the place -as <em>our own</em>. So much cannot have been suffered in vain.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right"><i>‘Sept. 26, 1876.</i></p> - -<p>‘Those rogues of sparrows have fairly driven me out of my room -this morning. They make such a chatter. I intend to request Mr. -H. benevolently to shoot a few; just to show the rest that really they -must not expect to be allowed to build, and gossip, and make themselves -disagreeable in every possible way in the room of a Buzurg -Miss Sahiba....</p> - -<p>‘It is much cooler. These two last nights I have needed no -pankah, and was able to bear a blanket. I have resumed wearing a -merino vest by day, and it is very comfortable. The darzi,<a name="FNanchor_48" id="FNanchor_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a> who -squats in the verandah, is busy on a magnificent dressing-gown, -which I have ordered. I brought out flannel from England, but not -a flannel dressing-gown, so I have bought a rich shawl-pattern, and -the flannel will line it, and I shall look like a Maliká<a name="FNanchor_49" id="FNanchor_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> and feel—almost -as comfortable as a sparrow.... It seemed to be a question -with the darzi whether the white flannel was to be inside or outside! -The matter appeared to interest some of the servants. One lives in -such a public way in India. Whatever one gives to be made or -mended is made or mended in the verandah; and the darzi, as he -cuts out, clips, and sews, talks—perhaps with the pankah-wala, -perhaps a stranger, perhaps the munshi (tutor) whose pupil is not -quite ready to take her lesson.... There is no shutting the world -out; and the Indian world is such a curious world.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘Then people’s characters are so public; no one seems to think it -worth while to wear thick cloaks over them. Everybody seems to -know about everybody else. The very public papers seem personal. -... O yes, India is a very curious place,—people curious,—ways -curious,—insects curious,—dress curious, etc. The very Anglo-Saxon -character appears in a new and curious aspect. India is a -place to develop an instinct to command, and to carry things with a -high hand. Weakness does almost as much harm as wickedness. -But I feel myself too old to learn the zabardast<a name="FNanchor_50" id="FNanchor_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a> way of going on. I am -not fitted to grasp reins of government, and drive a team of twenty-two -Indian servants, syces, pankah-walas, bearer, khitmatgar, ayah, etc., -see that the horses are not cheated of grain, that pankah-walas pull, -that kahars don’t take French leave, etc. etc. I hope that Florrie<a name="FNanchor_51" id="FNanchor_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a> -will hold the reins, if she and I go off together.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Oct. 5.</i>—We had a visit from our good Pastor Sadiq yesterday. -I was the one to receive him. You know that I am not strong -in the language yet. I knew that Sadiq was speaking about sickness, -castor-oil, and quinine, and people going about to look after -the sufferers; but I could not get at his full meaning; and as he was -clearly on business, I thought it better to call in C. to my aid. -It was well that I did! Sadiq’s heart was full of Batala—our Strasburg—where -people are dying of fever, faster than even in Amritsar. -Sadiq wanted a subscription to be made instanter to send off quinine -and castor-oil. The Christian lawyer, R., would go on to-day or -to-morrow, and Sadiq himself would follow on Monday. Talk of -languid, apathetic Hindus! Sadiq, when he takes a thing into his -head, goes at it like a battering-ram....</p> - -<p>‘To-day I had what seemed to poor me a long <i lang="fr">tête-à-tête</i> with the -Pandit from O——, that village which you will remember I visited -with Margaret. O dear! it was a bit of a mental effort. He is a -learned man! I longed for C. to come to my rescue, but battled -with verbs and genders as well as I could.</p> - -<p>‘I was determined to do the polite, so I boldly asked the Pandit to -stay to dinner. I could do so, as, oddly enough, I am now the senior -Missionary at Amritsar,<a name="FNanchor_52" id="FNanchor_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a> though I feel such a child in the language. -Rather to my surprise, the Pandit accepted my invitation at once. He -would not eat with us when he was here before, nor when at O——,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> -for he is a curious half-and-half sort of Christian,<a name="FNanchor_53" id="FNanchor_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a> leading such a -lonely life amongst heathen. The Pandit shared our meal, but only -took vegetables and bread-and-butter.</p> - -<p>‘Do you not laugh at the notion of poor Char, sitting at the head -of a table, and entertaining a Pandit, and feeling her ignorance, and -plunging about in a bog of Urdu? I did not, however, attempt to talk -much after C. came in, as she has been nearly four years in India, -and speaks the language well.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>When the next letter was written, on October 14, the -Batala plan was under discussion. Padri Sadiq seems to -have first suggested the idea that Miss Tucker should proceed -thither with Miss Swainson, and open a Mission in -the place. Miss Tucker does not appear to have at first -viewed the scheme with any great enthusiasm.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘Such a merry breakfast we had this morning! Our three dear -ladies, Margaret, Emily, and Florrie, arrived at about 9 <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span> after -nine hours of raft,—very tiring, for it involved much walking, and it -was raining away,—and twelve of dâk-gari. Margaret looked young -and lovely; Florrie much improved.... She is delighted with the -Batala scheme; but Margaret tells me that it cannot be carried out -till December at earliest, and I have my doubts about its being -carried out at all. At any rate, the difficulties will not have come -from <em>me</em>. I am quite willing to go; but of course a new station -would involve the Committee in expenses, and it is not easy to procure -a suitable house, etc., so it is likely enough that Sadiq’s plan -will be disapproved of in high quarters. I quietly wait to see what -direction is taken by “the fiery, cloudy pillar.” ...</p> - -<p>‘Last night I had to chaperon to our noisy, bustling station after -dark a young Missionary, who looks to me quite unfledged. There I -met the school-teacher, Miss ——, with her young sister, yet more -unfledged, bound on the same errand.... I think that the stations -at Indian cities are more noisy and bustling than the worst London -ones. It almost shocks my sense of propriety, young girls travelling -at night,—it is funny even to an old lady, hurrying up and down a -bustling platform amongst Natives. I think that I managed pretty -well for <em>my</em> charge, for I got her into a carriage with a lady and -children, so she was safe enough; she was not to cross the Sutlej till<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> -daylight. Poor little Miss —— was put by her sister into an empty -carriage; but who knows whether some drunken, low European may -not have got into it at the next station? And the poor, simple little -thing was to cross the Sutlej at midnight, with her baggage to look -after!!! We would hardly do such things in England. I have slept -a night here, <em>with not a soul in the house but myself</em>, and the house -seems so strangely open; but I was not a bit afraid.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Oct. 20, 1876.</i>—When this reaches you, perhaps you will be feeling -the first pinch of winter. We do not escape it here in our bright, -glowing Panjab. I cherish a fond hope that if we go to Batala, we -shall find it warmer than Amritsar.... Emily, Florrie, and Sadiq -have gone off to-day on a house-hunting expedition to Batala. It -is considered a very healthy place; except, of course, at present—an -exceptional season. If I go, I do not expect to have much to do -at first except learn the language. I leave school-work to Florrie; -she is well up to it; and I hear that Zenanas are likely to be very -slow in opening....</p> - -<p>‘My Munshi ... asked me to give him leave of absence on the -next day, or that following it, as it would be the Muhammadans’ <em>great -day</em>. He could not tell me which of the two days it would be, because -all would depend on the moon. If the moon were seen on the night -after the 18th, then the 19th would be the feast day, the end of the -long Muhammadan fast. If the moon were not seen, the poor people -must wait till the 20th. “Suppose,” said I, “that the people at -Lahore see the moon, and that those at Amritsar do not, will the -Lahore folk have a feast and you a fast?” A. answered in the -affirmative....</p> - -<p>‘I talked with A. a little about the fasting. He told me with -gusto that he had once gone to the house of a Muhammadan friend, -who happened to have a little hole in his door, on one of the days -of the fast. A., the old rogue, peeped through the hole, and -detected his friend in the act of eating. A. then knocked at the -door. His friend—it made me think of Friar Tuck!—popped the -food into a box, wiped his mouth, and was ready to receive his -visitor. “What were you doing?” asked A. “Reading,” was -the reply. Then A. opened the box, and showed the discomfited -hypocrite the food, and—according to his own account—gave -the man a lecture. I have my doubts about the latter part of the -story—I mean the lecture.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Oct. 26.</i>—Our poor city has been bearing some resemblance to a -hospital. Some think that not one of her inhabitants—120,000—has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> -altogether escaped the fever, and many have died; but I am thankful to -write that the sickness is on the decrease.... I cannot, however, go -to dear Louis, for the Beutels, who have been very ill, are going to -Ludhiana; and their mother, too ill to be moved, must have some one -to look after her a little during their absence. I am the only lady -available, being well, and with no pressure of work. I am almost -astonished at having been so exempted from suffering, when -thousands and thousands have been so ill. I have not spent a day -in bed ... since leaving England. It is a cause for much thankfulness. -Of course I had a little fever, but it has left no dregs. The -weather is so nice, that one hardly understands why any one should be -ill....</p> - -<p>‘The Batala plan is rather hanging fire at present. Day after day -passes, and no reply is received to the letter asking permission for us -to occupy apartments in the palace. No other place in or near -Batala seems to be available. Even in the palace considerable -alterations would be needed, to make the rooms at all suitable for -English ladies.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Nov. 16.</i>—Sadiq does not quite approve of our selection of a house. -He would have liked one right in the city; but it is far pleasanter to -us to be a little out of it.... I asked him if he had any news of B—n. -Sadiq told me that he had seen him at Batala, the beginning of last -week. Our brave Brahmin convert had been very ill, and had -written—or caused to be written—a paper stating that he wished his -body to be buried by Christians, his children brought up by Christians, -and his property taken care of by the Mission. I am thankful -to say that B—n did not die; but as Sadiq said, he has had -affliction upon affliction.... In a few months this convert has lost -wife, babe, and only brother. Sadiq said that B—n’s regret about -the babe was that it had not been baptized. But when I remarked -that I thought the babe had been a kind of martyr, like the little ones -killed by Herod, Sadiq looked pleased.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Dec. 1.</i>—I suppose that my next letter will be addressed to you -from my new home in Batala. My nieces are very anxious to make -arrangements for my comfort. I am not to have the trouble of helping -to put the new house into order. Two ladies go before to make -everything nice....</p> - -<p>‘I went to dear S. Begum to-day,—the one who was lately baptized -with her young daughter,—to speak to her about Holy Communion. -I am glad that I shall have the First Sunday in Advent in Amritsar. -It will seem strange to reside in a place where there is no church!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> -I suppose that we shall go over to the Catechist’s house, and have -Urdu service there....</p> - -<p>‘It was very interesting to hear Mr. Wade’s account of the opening -of a little church in the village of G. The peculiar and very -interesting feature of the affair is that in this Rajput village a little -flock has been gathered just by <em>Native</em> agency. And the way for the -Native evangelist, the excellent C., was wondrously prepared.</p> - -<p>‘In old Runjit’s time a kind of Native prophet declared that our -Lord was greater than all others. This Pandit was succeeded by -another, who declared that all the people would become the Lord’s -followers. They who came first would receive <em>honour</em>; they who -came next, a mere <em>subsistence</em>; they who came last would be <em>driven</em> -in! Then a third teacher arose—the present one. He said that a -shepherd pushes one sheep after another into the fold, and when all -are in follows himself; and that so <em>he</em> would get the people into the -Christian fold, and then follow them.</p> - -<p>‘It seems to us a most extraordinary way of evangelising; but -when the Rev. C. came to the village, he found that these strange -teachers had really ploughed up the ground to receive the good seed; -and the third teacher <em>has</em> come himself into the fold with four of his -relatives. His wife still holds out.</p> - -<p>‘The opening of the tiny church was a delightful scene. There -are only 14 or 15 baptized Christians; but the people, men and -women, flocked in, till there was hardly room to sit on the ground. -In the thoroughly Oriental church there are no seats.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Dec. 4, 1876.</i>—I have this morning read your loving expostulation -to Margaret and myself regarding Batala. You think that your -strong point is my unfitness for an out-station. But, sweet one, you -forget that I am so specially fitted, by age, for the post, that if I were -to draw back, the whole promising plan might fall to the ground. The -Natives reverence grey hairs; and I dare say that some of them will -pet me. As for the language, I manage to get on after a fashion, -and smiles go a good way.</p> - -<p>‘I assure you that I have never felt my heart lighter than I have -done lately, fond as I am of those I leave. It seems as if the way -were so plain. If I were perfectly dumb, I should still be useful as a -chaperon. But I am not quite dumb.</p> - -<p>‘I had such a golden First Sunday in Advent yesterday.... -Fancy the encouragement of seeing B—n, the one Christian convert -residing in Batala, and sharing the Cup with him in our dear -Amritsar Church. I shook hands with him after afternoon service.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> -I am sorry that when I uttered the two words, “Hamara bhai,”<a name="FNanchor_54" id="FNanchor_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a> I -should have said “Hamare,” instead of “Hamara.” It was a pity -that my first word should have been incorrect; but I could not think -of grammar at such a moment.... Then I have had such an -encouraging note from dear Emily, who is making things straight -for me at Batala....—Your happy</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Char.</span>’</p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="II_CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1876<br /> -A PALACE FOR A HOME</span></h3> - -<p>In December 1876 Charlotte Maria Tucker entered upon -the final stage of her earthly career. Final in a sense; for -though more than once Batala had to be temporarily -deserted, the place was never given up. Thenceforward, -Batala became in very truth her home; Batala work was -essentially her work; and the remaining years of her life -were devoted to Batala.</p> - -<p>Having once made up her mind that she was definitely -called to this particular post, nothing could withhold her. -Difficulties, oppositions, hindrances, prospects of loneliness, -imperfect knowledge of Indian languages, increasing age,—all -these were as nothing in the way. If she was called, -she would go! And Miss Tucker believed that she <em>was</em> -called.</p> - -<p>Others were not so sure. Mrs. Elmslie wrote on the 8th -of December to Mrs. Hamilton: ‘I agree with you that -your beloved sister’s power lies in gifts which can be used -to perhaps greater influence here than in an out-station. -This isolation from European society is not what I should -have chosen for one who can exercise so much influence -for good among her own countrymen; and whose pen -can do more for India than perhaps the lives of many -others.’ No doubt this view of the question weighed -greatly in the judgment of many. For one who can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> -write books suitable to Indian requirements, there are -scores of Missionaries who can with ease learn the Native -languages, and who can visit and teach in Zenanas, perhaps -far more effectually than A.L.O.E. did.</p> - -<p>To lookers-on it may seem that she judged wrongly -here; that her eagerness for personal work was a mistake; -that she might have done more by following the advice of -her friends, and remaining at Amritsar. Advice she had; -for Mrs. Elmslie says in the same letter: ‘We have one -and all of us tried to dissuade her from going; but she -sees the Pillar going straight on before her. And who are -we that we should gainsay it?’</p> - -<p>Suppose she only <em>fancied</em> that she ‘saw the Pillar,’—in -other words, that she was called or led or ordered to -Batala? A mistake of this description is not impossible, -especially in the case of an ardent and impulsive nature. -If so, it was the mistake of burning love and self-devotion; -and one can well believe that such a mistake must be -dearer to the Heart of our Lord than the correct attitude -of those who always decide on the safe and comfortable -side.</p> - -<p>But why should we imagine it to have been a mistake? -The true gist of the matter is not, after all, to be found in -the question as to which particular type of work she might -be best fitted for intellectually. The main question was -rather—to which especial work was she bidden by her -Master? One can hardly live many years on Earth, with -observant eyes, and believe that people are always or -generally given exactly that work to do, for which they -are by natural powers best adapted. Things often seem, -indeed, just the other way; people being put to work for -which they appear to be least well adapted, and simply -having to do their best. To us it may seem that -A.L.O.E.’s pen was worth more to India than all her -heroic struggles to conquer the languages and to teach in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> -Zenanas. But if, as with her whole heart she believed, -God had called her to work in Batala,—‘who are we,’ to -say that she should have remained away? The Commander-in-Chief -of an army has a perfect right to place -his soldiers where he will; and so long as the soldier who -is ordered to any particular post hears the word of command, -it matters very little whether anybody else hears -it also.</p> - -<p>Suppose A.L.O.E. had <em>not</em> gone to Batala, but had -taken the advice of others, and had remained at Amritsar! -Possibly she might, by devoting herself to writing alone, -have accomplished treble or quadruple the number of -little books and tracts for India which she did accomplish. -But then a very heroic example of courage and -self-devotion would have been lost to the Church. At -Amritsar she would have had plenty of loving friends, -and would have been altogether more comfortable, -altogether in easier circumstances. Easy and comfortable -examples, however, are not rare. Even the writing of a -good many more little books might not have made up to -us for what we should have lost in other respects.</p> - -<p>Besides,—she believed that she had her ‘marching -orders.’ Even if, by any possibility, she were mistaken -in that belief, she could not disobey. A soldier always -instantly obeys what he <em>believes</em> to be the order given.</p> - -<p>Yet it could have been no light matter,—this going -forth alone, with only one young companion, into a very -fastness of Muhammadanism and Heathenism. Miss -Tucker herself was no longer young. Though marvellously -strong and spirited for her time of life, she was -now in her fifty-sixth year; hardly an age when, at the -best, a woman is commonly willing to undertake great -responsibilities in a new and untried direction. It was, -however, true, as she said, that if she did not go, the -Mission in Batala could not be at once started—as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> -a resident Mission. No two young women could have -gone there alone. They must have waited for a married -Missionary and his wife to head the effort.</p> - -<p>In this step of Miss Tucker’s a clue may perhaps be found -for some lives, here or there, where a vocation is earnestly -sought and not yet found. Why should not other middle-aged -ladies go out, as she went out?—not necessarily -always to attempt full Zenana work; but to be protectors, -housekeepers, nurses, to younger and more active ladies? -Whether it would be right to use any portion of Mission-funds -for such a purpose may be doubted; and in many a -case Mission <em>rooms</em> could not be spared; but there are exceptions -as to the latter. And as to the money part of the -question, doubtless many a warm-hearted lady, over fifty -years of age, free from home-ties, with a spirit full of love -and self-devotion, could afford to spend £150 or £200 a year -on such an object. Much might be done by her to cheer -up the workers, to leave them more free for all that needed -most to be done,—and indirectly she might help forward -the work of evangelisation by the mere force of a fair -Christian example in a dark land. There can be no question -that Miss Tucker’s <em>life</em> worked far more effectually -than her words. What she said may have been long ago -forgotten. What she was will never be forgotten. Her -spoken words doubtless had at the time some power; her -written words perhaps had much more; her life had by -far the most of all.</p> - -<p>For any such line of life as is above suggested, however, -only that type of woman is fit which has been already -described in some of A.L.O.E.’s letters. Thin-skinned, -anxious, feeble-spirited ladies, easily worried and easily -vexed, will not do; and angular, managing, argumentative -ladies would be quite as unsuitable. Those alone -may venture who are not only fairly strong in health, -vigorous in spirit, fearless as to difficulties, and careless as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> -to discomforts, but who are also gentle, kind-hearted, -sympathetic, willing to yield to the judgment of others, -ready to please and not to rule. Almost above everything -else, there should be a freedom from grumbling -tendencies. If <em>such</em> elderly ladies of England are willing -to tread in A.L.O.E.’s footsteps, and to give the -Evenings of their lives to Mission-work, openings enough -for them might be found.</p> - -<p>The closing words of Mrs. Elmslie’s letter to Mrs. -Hamilton on December 8, show what Miss Tucker’s -presence in the Amritsar bungalow had been: ‘I shall -miss my darling Charlotte much. She has been sunshine -to me ever since she came; and I am accustomed to -think of her as a very precious gift from a loving Father -Who knows our need. I hope to have her again at -Christmas. Please feel assured that we shall tenderly -watch over your dear one, even though not so closely -together as formerly.’ Miss Wauton also, speaking of -that time, says: ‘Her general presence was a great cheer -to her fellow-workers there.’</p> - -<p>Mention has been made of the Mission-tree,—a large -banyan, in front of the Amritsar bungalow, where Miss -Tucker had now spent so many months. The central -trunk had received the name of Amritsar, and other -slender trunks around, already rooted, had received the -names of various out-stations, where occasional work had -been begun, but where no Missionaries yet resided. One -slender shoot was called after Batala. It had then just -reached the ground, but was not firmly rooted. Now, in -1895, it is ‘a thick, substantial trunk.’</p> - -<p>Batala, a walled town, about a mile across, has a -population of some 25,000 people, and is twenty-four -miles to the east of Amritsar. The Dalhousie range of -the mighty Himalayas lies about fifty miles off; but the -mountains, when snow-capped, look very much nearer.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> -In those days there was not, as there is now, a line of rail -connecting Amritsar with Batala. The journey from one -to the other had commonly to be accomplished, either -by <i lang="hi">tum-tum</i>, a light cart, with two or three changes of -horses; or else by <i lang="hi">ekka</i>, a country cart, which last mode -of conveyance was very often used by Miss Tucker in -coming years. It was a peculiarly rough and wearisome -mode of travelling, the ekka having no springs; but very -early she took to doing as far as possible what the Indians -do in such cases. Anything that would tend to make her -one with them was eagerly attempted. For instance, she -began speedily to sit upon the floor as Natives do; and at -Indian gatherings or feasts she would not only sit as they -sat, but would share their food. She must have been -singularly supple-jointed for her years, to be able to adopt -this position without any serious inconvenience. The -Rev. Robert Clark writes, with reference to her Batala -mode of life:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘No conveyance was kept. Miss Tucker always travelled in her little -dhoolie (or bird’s-nest carriage), or in an ekka, a native conveyance -without springs, where a seat about a yard square was perched on -wooden wheels. On this she spread her bedding, which is always -carried about by Missionaries. She was so well accustomed to sit -on the ground, that her legs in this conveyance never were in the -way. She gracefully folded them before or under her—we never -could tell how—in a position which was very painful to most English -people, but which seemed quite natural to her. She often used to -trot over in this way, in an ekka, to Amritsar, on a road which -caused many bumps and aches to most people’s heads and arms and -bodies; but she would never allow that the shaking of twenty-four -miles of such travelling as this ever did her any harm. I think she -wished to be an example to us all. We used to travel then in -tum-tums or buggies, or other vehicles with springs. But ekkas -have much more become the fashion in our Missionary circles.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>One idea Miss Tucker had, on first going to Batala, -which the other Missionaries dissuaded her with great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> -difficulty from putting into execution. This was to <em>dress</em> -as the Indians do! It was not considered a wise or -desirable plan, from any point of view; but Charlotte -Tucker had gone so far, in her enthusiasm, as to provide -herself with a Native dress, and her heart was very much -set upon wearing it. To make her give up this favourite -idea was no easy matter.</p> - -<p>Batala is a picturesque old town, with fine banyan-trees, -and many old mango-tree gardens towards the north, enclosed -either by walls or by aloe hedges, curiously appropriate -for A. L. O. E. It is said that in her younger days -a review of some of her books spoke of them as being -‘bitter, like the name of their Author.’ Did Miss Tucker -ever recall this little notice when she looked upon the -aloe hedges of Batala?</p> - -<p>There is also a large lake-like tank close to the house -in which Miss Tucker lived, and other tanks lie further -off. This nearer tank has an ornamental pleasure-house -in the middle; and the tomb of the man who dug the -tank is on its bank. Many handsome old tombs are to -be seen in the place. The town itself is old, with exceedingly -crooked and narrow streets; so narrow, that a duli -when carried through often touches the walls on both sides. -The Batala people have the character of being particularly -bigoted, hard-natured, quarrelsome, and difficult to deal -with.</p> - -<p>Early in 1876 Miss Wauton had written in the Society’s -Report: ‘I think we may consider the Batala Mission -now thoroughly established.’ This meant that about five -Girls’ Schools had been opened for Hindu, Sikh, and -Muhammadan scholars, under the superintendence of the -Catechist’s wife, being from time to time visited by the -Amritsar Missionary ladies. The children were taught -elementary Christian truths; they learned to sing simple -hymns; and books were given to them. The work,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> -however, was hardly more than begun, when A. L. O. E. -decided to make Batala her home. One Native Catechist -and his wife were there; one Batala man had been -baptized; and a certain number of children had begun to -learn a few simple truths. For the rest, Batala was ‘a -stronghold of bigoted Muhammadanism.’</p> - -<p>And the first thing which had to be done was <em>not</em> to -reap a harvest, <em>not</em> to begin looking for results, but simply -to plough the hard ground, and thus to make seed-sowing -a matter of possibility. When the ground was broken and -softened, then the seed might be sown; after that, the -sown seed could be watered, and the harvest patiently -waited for.</p> - -<p>Almost every letter at this time contains something of -interest. To quote half of what might be quoted is -impossible, for lack of space. It seems, however, worth -while to give fuller records of these early days, when all -was fresh, and when Miss Tucker’s interests were keenly -awake to her novel surroundings, even though more fulness -here means some curtailing later.</p> - -<p>A certain change in the style of her letters is observable -after she reached India, especially in the long series to -Mrs. Hamilton. Personal matters are pushed very much -into the background; while tendencies to introspection or -to moralisings are almost non-existent. The letters fall -naturally into a simple record of the work being done. -She is far too fully occupied with things and people -around to have any leisure to bestow upon her own -feelings. Moreover, the mode of expression gains a -terseness and vigour, not always characteristic of the -earlier correspondence.</p> - -<p>To write the life of A. L. O. E. at this period is hardly -possible, without at the same time writing the life of the -Infant Church at Batala. The one is almost identical -with the other.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span></p> - -<p>The house in which their first start was to be made is -described by Miss Tucker, as will be seen, in somewhat -glowing terms. She was resolutely bent upon making the -best of everything, and upon seeing all around through her -rose-coloured spectacles. There were, however, two sides -to the question. The ‘house,’ so called, was in reality an -old Sikh palace, ‘used by Sher Singh, son of Maharajah -Singh, as a hunting-box.’ Sher Singh is said to have -spent no more than one night in it. The building was -very substantial, and two-storied. A central room below -was over thirty feet in length, and another exactly over it -was of the same size. Other smaller rooms lay around, -and of these one was chosen for Miss Tucker’s bedroom. -The great, ponderous, creaking doors were difficult to -close; and the wind would sweep through them in a -manner suggestive of chill and rheumatism. In the -winter months they were very cold and comfortless -apartments. The name of the old palace was ‘Anarkalli.’<a name="FNanchor_55" id="FNanchor_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a></p> - -<p>‘When we first used these rooms, during occasional -visits to Batala,’ writes Miss Wauton, ‘they were largely -haunted by owls, bats, and rats; and it was a long time -before these occupants understood that they had notice to -quit the premises. Then it seemed impossible ever to -make those huge, weird, gloomy-looking rooms at all cosy -and home-like. However, we did our best with matting, -screens, and furniture, to make it look habitable. And in -Miss Tucker’s eyes the very strangeness and romance of -the place made up for its deficiency in warmth and -comfort.’ Mr. Clark also, referring to this large and -somewhat dreary palace, says of it: ‘The winds blew -through many chinks in the uncurtained doors; and the -house was once likened to Eden, because four streams -flowed through it.’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span></p> - -<p>Two days after her arrival she wrote to her favourite -sister:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>Dec. 8, 1876</i>.</p> - -<p>‘Do not connect Batala with any idea of self-sacrifice. I am -astonished to find myself in such a beautiful home. It is more -suited for an Earl and Countess than for two lowly Missionaries; -and yet our rent is only a little more than £20 a year! Certainly, -we have had to make that very necessary article, a fireplace, and to -build servants’ huts; but the house is grand! It seems unnatural -to be the lady of it.</p> - -<p>‘We do not intend to furnish the room in which I am now sitting,—till -the fireplace is finished in our smaller room we use this fine apartment,—but -its length is about thirty-six feet. Poor Shere Singh! -little he guessed, when he built the fair mansion, that he was but to -sleep in it for <em>one</em> night, and then be murdered at Lahore! He never -dreamed of Mission-books, Bibles, etc., being stored up in those most -convenient presses in the walls, which add exceedingly to one’s -comfort. For really the native house is not only stately, but -wondrously comfortable. It seems to me to be decidedly warmer -than Amritsar bungalow—a matter of real importance to me. It is a -great deal lighter, and I suspect that in summer it will be cooler also, -at least in this room, which is splendidly protected from the sun.</p> - -<p>‘Another advantage as regards both health and cheerfulness is -that we live on the first floor, and this first floor is a good height -from the ground. One first ascends five steps to the substantial -platform on which the house is built, and then twenty-nine steps to -our apartments. Florrie and I have each a nice, light, airy bedroom, -with bathroom attached. We shall soon have a pleasant sitting-room, -to which this splendid unfurnished apartment will serve as a -vestibule.’</p> - -<p>‘<i>Dec. 9.</i>—I have just come from the City,—we live more than half-a-mile -out of it. O, my Laura, a wide door is open before us. I was -told that Batala is a place where we could not read the Bible: but I -have copied a great deal into my Bible picture-book; and there is no -let or hindrance that I can see in showing the pictures, and reading the -descriptions, which are God’s own Word.... I find that a good way -to begin, when I enter a house, is by showing off my Zouave.<a name="FNanchor_56" id="FNanchor_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a> ... -Every one is delighted with it. A good large group of women and -children assemble.... It is harder for me to understand the women,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> -than it is for them to understand me,—they sometimes jabber so; -and if they mix Panjabi, I am all at sea. In the evenings I intend -to do a little Panjabi with Florrie; and in return I teach her to play -the guitar. I have begun to learn the alphabet, which has thirty-five -letters. We hope next week to have an Urdu Munshi; but I only -intend to have one hour and a half with him [<i>i.e.</i> daily]....</p> - -<p>‘In nine days we hope to make a day’s itinerating tour to two -villages. There are little schools in them,—not of course Christian. -The poor women here seem inclined to like me, for which I am -thankful. Florrie told me to-day that she thought she would have -gone into fits of laughter at what was said of me. My being elderly -and unmarried seemed to be giving an impression that I was a kind -of saint or faqir,—perhaps my being thin and wearing my faithful -old green dress added to the impression. One woman asked me -whether I had eaten anything that day. Florrie thinks that it was -from a courteous wish to feed me, if I had not.</p> - -<p>‘I arrived here on Thursday,—-this is Saturday. Yesterday I saw -poor, dear B—n at the house of the Catechist. He looked sad; not -as he looked in the Amritsar church. I suspect that his Cross is still -very heavy....</p> - -<p>‘I am in excellent health, thank God, and Florrie seems to be -getting all right again. She and I “pull well together, when yoked -twain and twain.” I have not seen a single white face but hers—not -even in travelling here—since I left the dear Amritsar bungalow. -I think that I shall improve more rapidly in the language here than -if I had remained at my first station.</p> - -<p>‘What an extraordinary and somewhat romantic position I am in, -for an elderly lady, who in her youth hardly ever stirred from a -London home! How amazed we should have been when we were -girls, if we could have known that I was to find my home in an -Oriental palace—afar from all Europeans—and itinerate a little in -heathen villages! How good God has been to your loving sister!’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. J. BOSWELL.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Dec. 11, 1876.</i></p> - -<p>‘I have not been many days in this my new home, but I could fill -pages and pages with Batala. My time, however, is precious, and I -must not waste too much even in writing to dear ones.... I was -much struck by an incident which occurred to-day. Four workmen -are still engaged in making a fireplace for us. This morning, as I -sat reading, waiting for my Munshi, one of the men stood near, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> -if silently watching me. I thought this strange; but, as he was not -rude, I made no remark but read on. Presently the man said to -me, “Is that the Gospel?” I said, “Would you like to hear the -Gospel?” He assented. I read part of Matthew v.; and the three -other men came and listened. Afterwards at morning prayer I sat -very near the open door leading to the room where two of these -men were working at the fireplace. Two of our Muhammadan -servants come now regularly to family prayers. The men at the -fireplace were so perfectly still that I am sure they were listening -to God’s Word.... Of course, it is quite optional with the servants -to attend or not; and the workmen could easily have drowned my -voice, if they had chosen to do so....</p> - -<p>‘I find my walking Zouave so very useful in opening a way, that -I much wish for five or six clever clockwork toys, such as would take -the fancy of natives.... The toys should be rather small, and such -as I could easily show off. The floors are so rough, that I am -obliged to make my Zouave walk on the top of his own tin box, short -as it is. I feel the toys, if really clever, so important....’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. E——.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Dec. 14, 1876.</i></p> - -<p>‘I dare say that you will be rather curious to know how I like my -new home. I like it very much indeed. I cannot tell you what the -city is like; for though I have been into it every day but to-day, I -cannot say that I know anything of its general appearance, except -that the streets are extremely narrow, and that the houses appear to -be made of brick. The fact is that I never go into the city, except -shut up in a duli, a kind of box with no window. Unless I push the -curtain a little back, I see nothing, and nobody can see me. I -am rather careful about the proprieties; and to be carried in a box -is the correct thing. My duli is red; Florrie’s moderately white.</p> - -<p>‘Now fancy yourself at my side, dearest Aunt. I will give you a -kind of rough idea of what is said and done, after my duli has stopped -at the door of one of the four Zenanas now open to us at Batala. I -will suppose C. M. T. alone, as she sometimes is.</p> - -<p>‘C. M. T. gets out of her box, and enters,—perhaps mounting a -small, rather dark staircase. Presently she finds herself in a place -where there are perhaps a dozen or twenty women and children.</p> - -<p>‘C. M. T. smiles, says, “Salaam,” and informs her who seems the -chief woman that she is happy to see her. A bed or perhaps an arm-chair<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> -is politely put for C. M. T. to sit down on.... C. M. T. begins by -showing off a clockwork figure that can walk. Women and children -look on with curiosity and pleasure. Says C. M. T., “The doll is -cleverer than the idols; it can walk.” The house being Muhammadan, -the observation is approved of; and C. M. T. amuses the good folk -by a few lively remarks as to the doll being weak or tired, etc.</p> - -<p>‘Then C. M. T. says, “I have made a very long journey from -Europe by sea. I have come thousands of miles. Why have I -come?” Silence amongst my auditors. “I have come to give good -news.” They listen with interest. “Jesus Christ came into the -world to save sinners. This is good news. We are all sinners. -He died for us,” etc. None look angry; some look pleased; some -look tenderly at me, as if they thought me very kind to come such a -long way to give them good news.</p> - -<p>‘Then a Bible picture-book is opened; perhaps the story of the -Fall read. Muhammadans believe a great deal of the Old Testament; -one can talk to them of “Father Adam,” and “Mother Eve,” -without shocking them in the least. I cannot talk much,—very little -indeed,—but I can say such things as I have written above, and -tell the dear women that I am happy, that I do not fear death at all, -because I believe that the Lord bore the punishment of my sins on -the Cross.</p> - -<p>‘I have not met with any discourtesy. There are three things in -my favour—my age; my family being of the Sarkar-log;<a name="FNanchor_57" id="FNanchor_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a> and my -receiving no salary.... Another thing which seems to awaken a -sort of interest is the fact of my being unmarried. I have met -with the idea that there is some merit in celibacy. I repudiated -it, and said that in our Book marriage is spoken of as an honourable -thing.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Dec. 16, 1876.</i></p> - -<p>‘We never drive <em>in</em> Batala, but on the roads outside. Of course -we often meet Natives. Some of them salaam to us, and I make a -point of bowing with marked courtesy when they do so. One feels -the salaam a breaking of the ice. Those who have exchanged greetings -on the road with us are less likely to shut their doors against the -polite strangers. Florrie has been admitted into a fifth Zenana to-day. -The Catechist thinks that after a while there will be more work -than we can overtake.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. J. BOSWELL.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Christmas Day, 1876.</i></p> - -<p>‘Is not this a curious life for me? What a contrast Batala is to -Marylebone! But I stand up for Batala. This is a capital house, -in spite of rats. You should see Florrie and me in our tam-tam -driving along kachcha roads,<a name="FNanchor_58" id="FNanchor_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a> the odd-looking conveyance plunging -up and down or from side to side, like a boat on a rough sea. Or fancy -me seated in my red duli starting for the city. I remember how I -looked on the picture of such a red duli, painted on talc, and pitied -native ladies for having to travel in a box. It really, however, is -not bad, and it is the only practicable conveyance for the narrow -streets of Batala.’</p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="II_CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1877<br /> -DISAPPOINTMENTS AND DELAYS</span></h3> - -<p>The year 1877 dawned full of work and full of hope, in -Batala. Fresh openings were appearing on all sides; -and to the four Zenanas which at first could alone be -entered, others had been already added. Then suddenly -came a check. Miss Tucker’s hard-working companion, -who had all through suffered much from the Panjab -climate, broke down, and was ordered off to England. -For Miss Tucker to remain alone at Batala, without a -single European companion, could not be thought of; -and so many Missionaries had been invalided during the -past unhealthy year, that no one else could possibly be -spared. She had perforce to return to Amritsar.</p> - -<p>The great disappointment—and very great it was—she -took patiently, even cheerily. Some considered a few -months more at Amritsar no bad thing for her or for her -future work. She had freedom from responsibility, and -more leisure in consequence for study and for writing. -Many a short story went forth from her busy pen that -winter for India’s millions. But her eyes were still bent -longingly upon Batala; and her whole desire and prayer -were that she might soon return there again.</p> - -<p>Nor had she to wait long before the granting of her -wish. Mr. and Mrs. Beutel, then resident at Amritsar, -were appointed C.M.S. Missionaries at Batala; and when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> -they went she could go also. Mr. Beutel describes as -follows the course of events:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘One day—it was early in 1877—after returning from a preaching-place -in the city (Amritsar), I met Miss Tucker on my way home. -She was glad to see me, and then told me of her intention of going to -settle at Batala, provided that my wife and I were willing and prepared -to go with her. After a while this was sanctioned, and consequently -we left Amritsar for Batala in April, and settled in the old house -... which is still used for the Christian Boarding School. It then -looked like a haunted house, inhabited by owls,—which regularly had -a dance in the loft almost every night!—bats and wasps, etc. Miss -Tucker occupied the one wing of the upper story, and we the other. -The centre-hall served as a dining-room. She was our daily boarder.</p> - -<p>‘As a rule she rose very early in the morning. After her morning -walk, service, and breakfast, she regularly went out into the city, to -see and teach some women in their houses, occasionally accompanied -by my wife. Now and then she also paid visits, like myself, to the -villages in the neighbourhood. As a rule the afternoons were filled -up by her with the study of the language, reading and writing, etc.</p> - -<p>‘But, alas! not quite two months had passed, when both Miss -Tucker and my wife were laid up with fever. The chief cause of -this, as the Doctor afterwards explained, seemed to be the stagnant -water almost all around the house; and he ordered them both away -as quickly as possible. Consequently we all returned to Amritsar -by the end of May 1877, and settled again in our old quarters.</p> - -<p>‘As soon as the hot season was over, we all went back to Batala, -a second time. The condition of the house was as bad as before; -but Miss Tucker immediately offered her help, and I set about fifty -people to work. The ground near the house was soon raised about -two feet or more; and consequently the place became more healthy, -so that this time we could stay there all the winter, doing our work -as before.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>After a few months, however, came a renewed check. -Mr. Beutel was required for work in Amritsar; and when -he and his wife left Batala, Miss Tucker had to leave also. -Once more she was obliged to settle down for a term of -patient waiting and study at Amritsar.</p> - -<p>Not till the spring of 1878 was any really permanent -arrangement made. Then a school of Panjabi boys was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> -removed from Amritsar to the old palace, under the -presidency of the Rev. Francis Baring; and Miss Tucker -went to live under the same roof, to carry on the work -among women of Batala. Thenceforward her home was -at Batala to the end. Throughout the year 1877 she had -much of doubt and disappointment to endure; but her -brave trustfulness never broke down under the strain. -Charlotte Tucker was a thoroughly loyal soldier of the -Cross,—willing to go, or willing to stay, as her Master -might dictate. Her heart’s desire was to live and toil -in Batala; but a yet deeper desire of her whole being was -to carry out His Will, whatever that Will might be. -The Centurion’s words, ‘I am a man under authority,’ -may be cited as peculiarly applicable to her. If God’s -Will for her were Amritsar, not Batala, she would be -content.</p> - -<p>For a short time, seemingly, things were so; but not -for long. Fresh plans in 1878 would make all clear. -Meanwhile some months of change and uncertainty did -no harm. They were but part of the polishing of the -golden staff of her Will,—to revert to her own allegory of -earlier days.</p> - -<p>The history of these months, beginning with the time -when she was first at Batala with Miss Swainson, will best -be told by occasional extracts from the abundance of -letters remaining.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>Jan. 4, 1877</i>.</p> - -<p>‘Here we are in a regular “fix,” as the boys would say,—no bread -nor butter in the house, and with the probability of a grand lady, a -Commissioner’s wife, coming to-day, perhaps to stop the night. Pity -the sorrows of—of ladies twenty miles from civilised life. I’m not -housekeeper, so I can laugh; but poor dear Florrie!! You can feel -for her. This is how we got into the fix.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘We settled on to-day, Thursday, for a general giving of prizes in -the six City schools. Several pounds have been spent on prizes, and -Florrie and I were for hours yesterday ticketing and preparing them. -The prize-giving is of real importance; for we give prizes <em>instead</em> of -money, as the Government gives. To throw <i lang="fr">éclat</i> on the affair, we -asked Mrs. T. to give the prizes away, which she kindly consented -to do. A note was sent to her on Tuesday morning by a kahar,<a name="FNanchor_59" id="FNanchor_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a> -to tell her the day, and the kahar was to bring back bread and -butter, which we have always to get from Amritsar, twenty-four -miles off.</p> - -<p>‘Thursday morning, the grand morning, has arrived,—nay, it is -nearly eleven o’clock, and the children of six schools, their teachers -and their mothers, and perhaps scores of women besides, will be on the -tiptoe of expectation,—and our <em>kahar has never returned</em>!!! We -don’t know whether Mrs. T. is coming; we don’t know whether she -is sticking half-way on the road, waiting for the horse which we -offered to send twelve miles, <em>if</em> she required it! Like the famous -little pig, we have eaten all the bread and butter; and if the grand -lady arrives—without that faithless kahar—what shall we give her to -eat? I urged Florrie at least to send to the city for meat; but she -fears that in the absence of the cook the guest may arrive.</p> - -<p>‘O dear! O dear! Why did we trust that <em>sust</em><a name="FNanchor_60" id="FNanchor_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a> kahar,—or eat up -all the bread? O how shall the bari Bibi ever be fed? I must go -and try to cheer up poor Florrie, who suffers from her head, in -addition to being in this “fix.” I must tell you how the matter ends -afterwards.</p> - -<p>‘Don’t fancy we’re starving! Oh, nothing like it! We had a -famous breakfast, chapatties,<a name="FNanchor_61" id="FNanchor_61"></a><a href="#Footnote_61" class="fnanchor">[61]</a> eggs, etc. We don’t starve!</p> - -<p>‘<i>Later.</i>—No one has appeared. No tidings either of lady or -kahar; but Florrie has sent for meat. She told me that the poor -children had said that they would be ready at 7 <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span> If so, they -must be rather tired by this time, nearly 11½ <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span> ...</p> - -<p>‘<i>Later.</i>—The kahar came at last, and brought the provisions, and -a note from Mrs. T. to say that she is coming to-morrow.</p> - -<p>‘<i>Jan. 6.</i>—I was rather glad when yesterday’s grand affair was over. -As we had two dulis for three ladies, we had to manage by Florrie -always going first,—<i>i.e.</i> she proceeded to School 2, while we lingered -at No. 1—to School 3, while we stopped at 2, etc. I had to try -to amuse and show off the children to Mrs. T. during the waiting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> -time, which sometimes seemed rather long, especially where the girls -would <em>not</em> sing. In vain I started even a bhajan<a name="FNanchor_62" id="FNanchor_62"></a><a href="#Footnote_62" class="fnanchor">[62]</a> in one of the schools.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MR. AND MRS. CHARLES TUCKER.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>Jan. 6, 1877</i>.</p> - -<p>‘How well I can fancy you in your home, with the wide blue -expanse of Ontario stretching in front. I suppose the world looks -very white with you just now; with us it is pretty green. We have -no garden, but our large house stands in the country, without any -enclosure. Herds of goats or strings of camels could pass near to -our mansion. There is certainly not much noise of carriages. Here -the sight of a dâk-gari is somewhat rare; and in the city I have -never seen any wheel vehicle, except bullock-carts in the wider -streets. We can sometimes hardly get through the narrow streets -in our duli; and I am not aware that there are any other dulis in -Batala except that of the Catechist’s wife.</p> - -<p>‘Very funny things we hear of ourselves; and I dare say many -funny things are said that we do not hear. In one place which my -companion visited, in company with E., the Catechist’s wife, she -overheard the remark that she—-Miss Swainson—was the husband, -and E. her bibi. I think that I excite more curiosity than my -companion on account of my age. On account, I suppose, of an -Englishwoman with any silver hair being a rarity in India, I seem to -be sometimes considered wonderfully old. Florrie told me that she -had heard the women talking as they might have done had I been a -hundred years old.</p> - -<p>‘One day I wore brown kid gloves. My hands were looked at -with surprise. I suppose that the women wondered why I should -have brown hands and a white face. I pulled off my gloves, and this -seemed a new cause for surprise. Natives are very curious. One ... -young man of good family acts as my Munshi. He told me to-day -that his aunt wished to know whether I have any salary. How -astonished we should be if French or drawing masters asked such -questions in England! I have been asked what salary my nephew -receives. My being unmarried makes me doubly an object of -curiosity to the Hindu women.</p> - -<p>‘A poor woman came the other day to see us, and brought us some -common yellow flowers. I did not at all admire them, but I thought -it only courteous to accept so small a present graciously. Miss -Swainson did not like to accept the flowers—I did not know why....<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> -She told me afterwards that she was afraid they were brought as -religious offerings,—flowers are what are used for such offerings,—and -she had heard repeatedly that we are ‘devi.’<a name="FNanchor_63" id="FNanchor_63"></a><a href="#Footnote_63" class="fnanchor">[63]</a> What gross, -fearful ignorance! I heard on good authority that in one place in -India, not the Panjab, offerings are actually made to a dead European, -who was a special object of dread to the Natives, and whom they -therefore wish to propitiate as a kind of <em>demon</em>! Do not the poor, -deluded creatures want teachers? I find the women in general very -gentle and courteous, and quite willing to listen when they are -spoken to on the subject of religion. With the men—except of course -the servants—we have little to do.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>Jan. 9</i>.</p> - -<p>‘Florrie and I hired four extra kahars, took earlier breakfast, and -started this morning for O——, the village in which, as you may -remember, I encamped for two or three days with my Margaret, -about ten or twelve months ago.</p> - -<p>‘We started on foot, as it was not at all too hot for a walk; and -though we never walk in the city, we have no objection to doing so -in the country. Our dulis, white and red, with eight kahars, followed -us. When we had walked about a mile, whom should we meet but -the postman, with the English letters! I popped the rest of the -things into the duli, but read my Laura’s despatch as I walked along -the dusty lane. Very many thanks both to you and to dearest Leila. -<em>The</em> bonnet has not yet arrived,—I dare say it will be very elegant,—and -yet, as well as the bag, owe its chief value to the love sewn up -in it. Your lovely tidies ornament my Batala home.</p> - -<p>‘When F. and I returned from the village, being rather tired of -going about twelve miles in a canvas box,—of course there is no -seat in it; one sits half-Oriental style on a kind of coarse carpet,—I -got out to walk the last mile home.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Amritsar</span>, <i>Jan. 13</i>.—My note to dear Leila will tell you of the -change which now a good deal engrosses my mind. You did not like -my going to Batala; and as far as we can see, our Heavenly Father -does not intend us to remain there. He is Wisdom; and what to us -seems mysterious and trying must in the end be seen to be right....</p> - -<p>‘Ah, well, it is doubtless good to have the branches shaken, on -which we perch; and happily I have built no elaborate nest.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>Jan. 20</i>.</p> - -<p>‘I am writing in such a dismantled room, making a table of a chair, -and sitting on the floor. My luggage went off yesterday—such a -quantity! My big boxes and little boxes, chairs, tables, almira, sofa, -etc. I do not intend to unpack more than I can help, for I rather hope -to have another move before long,—a move back to dear Batala....</p> - -<p>‘I have been round to the six schools and three Zenanas, explaining -the sad cause of our sudden departure. I have found sympathy and -kindness. On three faces at least there were tears. Facts are often -more eloquent than words! The Batala people have seen B—n -suffering keen anguish for Christ’s sake; they see that the property -which was ——‘s is his no more, for Christ’s sake. They have seen -two ladies going fearlessly, trustingly, amongst them, one of them old, -and the other so ill that she has fairly broken down in her work—for -Christ’s sake! These things may tell more even than preaching.... -With God’s blessing Batala will yet be ours.</p> - -<p>‘Strange to say, the Mission has just bought a house in the midst -of the City; not hired, but bought it out and out. I went over it -yesterday.... There is room on that ground to build a church on. -And, please God, we shall have a church there some day. <i lang="la">Nil -desperandum.</i>’</p> - -</div> - -<p>To another she wrote on the same day: ‘It seems very -sad, when there had been such a promising beginning; a -new and interesting Zenana opened to me only yesterday; -and I must quit Batala to-day, for one lady cannot stay -by herself. But I am not in the least discouraged. I -believe that the Almighty will not suffer the Mission to be -permanently broken up. He will send some one to take -poor Florrie’s place; and then I am ready, at twenty-four -hours’ notice, to return to my post. I hear that the women -are very sorry for our going. I have myself seen tears on -brown faces.’ Her confident hope was soon to come true.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Mission Bungalow</span>, <i>Jan. 29</i>.—Here I am, back again in my -nice large room. My nieces would have it so, and made all -arrangements during my absence.... I must tell dear Leila what -C. H. said one day, absurd as it sounds; but it was a compliment to -<em>her</em> work, therefore I repeat it. “How bonny the Auntie looks in her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> -new bonnet!” There is a bit of flattery, spoken for once by one -who is particularly plain-spoken! But it was the bonnet that was -bonny, not your loving old sister.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>March 5, 1877.</i></p> - -<p>‘Many thanks to you and your sweet Mother for your loving notes -and the <cite>Illustrated</cite>. I am glad that I have not been sent <cite>Froggy’s -Brother</cite>. Not only am I afraid of shedding one useless tear; but I -seem to have scarcely any time for reading what is unconnected with -my work. I have begun the Koran, which will be rather a tedious -task,—only in English,—but I think it well to read it, and a few books -of manners and customs. Then I have two Munshis; and with my -imperfect memory, I must be perpetually going over and over what I -learn, so as not to lose it. Then I ought to write, whenever I can, -and visit Natives a little; and we have so many interruptions. The -day passes so fast; and perhaps at the end one feels—“What has -been done?—how little!” But as for sitting down to amuse oneself -with an English story-book,—how can that be done by your attached -old Missionary Auntie?’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO W. F. T. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>March 9, 1877.</i></p> - -<p>‘I am about a very tedious work, reading through the Koran in -English. I think that it may be very desirable for me to be able to -say—“I have read your Koran right through.” But, oh, how sleepy -one gets over the book! It is so full of repetitions; the same ideas -and stories over and over again. I am perfectly well, and the weather -is now charming,—such a comfort to get rid of the cold!—but I -believe that I twice this forenoon went to sleep, simply from reading -the Koran. I read and read, then leant back in my comfortable -chair, and took a nap!</p> - -<p>‘The poor Muhammadans must get a painful idea of the Almighty -from their book. It seems almost a mockery to head almost every -“Sura” with “In the Name of God the Compassionate, the Merciful.” -One is so perpetually reading of the torments of unbelievers, the -fires of Gehenna, etc.! Our Lord is written of with great respect, and -His Birth regarded as quite miraculous; but the Muhammadans will -not believe Him to be the “Son of God.” There is a great deal about -Abraham, Moses, Joseph, etc., in the Koran; Old Testament stories -altered and enlarged upon, to suit Muhammadan tastes. I have met -with no reference to the Blood of Atonement; in the account of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> -Exodus, given over and over, there is no allusion to the Paschal -Lamb; Muhammadanism appears as a religion of works.</p> - -<p>‘It would seem to me to be a dreary kind of religion, and well -suited to make men hard and stern. Of the three religions in the -Panjab, I think Sikhism by far the best; but then the race of those -who profess it in purity seems to be dying away.... The Enemy -would not leave poor Man even the scraps of Truth bequeathed by -the noble Guru Nanak. It is a sad pity. Hearts which had only -known <em>pure</em> Sikhism might have formed a rich soil to receive the seed -of the Gospel.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Early in March it was arranged, to her great joy, that -before the close of the month she might expect to be -back in Batala again, living there with Mr. and Mrs. -Beutel. When the time came, the roads being especially -bad with the heavy rains, Miss Tucker performed her -journey from Amritsar to Batala in what she called ‘a most -luxurious conveyance,—the big, heavy Government dâk -gari,<a name="FNanchor_64" id="FNanchor_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</a> in which one can recline at ease, as if in a bed.’ The -twenty-four miles’ drive proved, however, to be not altogether -luxurious; for on the worst and roughest part of the road -the whole gari went over on its side,—‘one big wheel aloft, -another big wheel below.’ Miss Tucker being entirely -unhurt, thought mainly of the safety of her desks and of -her ‘dear travelling clock.’ She found them, to her great -relief, ‘quite serene,’ as serene as she was herself in her -‘funny position,’—the clock ticking placidly on, undisturbed -by the jar. Describing the scene afterwards, she continued:</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘A number of men came to the aid of our forlorn conveyance, -down in the mud. The horses were of course released from -the traces. Many hands make light work; so, with a good deal -of pushing and shouting and tamasha, the carriage was set up again -on its wheels. I got out, thinking that I should have to trudge -through the mud on foot, carrying my clock in my hand. But I -was not obliged to make my entry into my palace in so humble a -fashion. I was able to re-enter the gari. Of course, I presented the -natives with a reward.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>April 14, 1877.</i>—I wrote to our Commissioner to ask his permission -for fish to be caught in the large tank, close to which our -mansion is built. He politely replied that we were welcome to fish -with hook and line, but that a net is prohibited. I am rather amused -to find that our dear, kind-hearted Germans cannot bear to give to -the fish the suffering which a hook would inflict. I think that we -shall do without fish.</p> - -<p>‘Such stormy—oh, such stormy weather as we have had, night -after night! There have been such thunder and lightning, and -rushing blast, and banging of doors and windows, as if in this -great echoing house there were pistol practice.... Those Indian -unmanageable doors and windows are the worst of it, particularly -if any inmate of the house has headache or fever. One wanders -about in the dark,—perhaps helped by the lightning,—to find the -region of a door that is the chief offender. The one which I -managed to shut in the night, for the first time since my coming -chose to shut itself in the morning, so that neither I nor my Ayah -could open it. Some one had to go round by another route to lift -the latch, which had gone down without being touched.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>In the same letter, speaking of a young Indian, who had -eagerly said to her that ‘the Bible is the light of our eyes, -and the root of our faith,’ she sadly remarked that it was -‘almost sickening’ to think what the young Muhammadan -‘would have to endure, did he openly confess Christ,’—even -while earnestly hoping that he <em>would</em> be constrained -‘by the cords of love’ to leave all and come forward.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS LAURA V. TUCKER.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>May 2, 1877.</i></p> - -<p>‘Thanks many, darling Laura, for your dear, sweet letter. You -speak of the flowers. Ah, if I could but give you a sight of the -glorious pink water-lilies or lotuses out of our nice tank! I am not -sure, however, whether I would not change them for—cabbages; -certainly I would for cauliflowers. It is not very easy to get our -vegetables, twenty miles away from an English garden. However, -V. brought two cucumbers to-day,—a welcome sight,—and a -Native presented us with some kelas,<a name="FNanchor_65" id="FNanchor_65"></a><a href="#Footnote_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</a>—more welcome still. My -experience is that fruit and vegetables are particularly conducive to -health in India.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘You may rejoice to hear that we have got rid of our very wicked -cook.... But it is funny to have no cook at all!! Mrs. Beutel’s old -mother does all the cooking; perhaps Mrs. Beutel helps a little; -and it puts her quite into spirits. If we were not likely to go into -Amritsar in ten or eleven days, I think that we should be obliged to -procure a cook. It is a most unusual thing for Europeans to cook -in a Panjab <em>May</em>; every day likely to get warmer and warmer! And -if Mrs. J. fell ill, as she did last year—her daughter is constantly -off and on with fever—where should we be? In a laughable dilemma, -I should say; for I don’t think that Mr. Beutel could cook; and I -am sure that <em>I</em> can’t! I forget—“can’t” is not a Missionary word! -But I really don’t see what I could do, except boil eggs; we have -plenty of them. You know that Fairy Frisket did not fancy a -kitchen!</p> - -<p>‘We have bread brought in regularly; for I did not think the -heavy, solid German home-made bread suitable for India. The -bread we get is so beautifully light. I do not know exactly where it -comes from,—I fancy from Gurdaspur or Amritsar. I am not -housekeeper.</p> - -<p>‘What a greedy letter this seems! so much about eatables! But -it may help you to picture to yourself life at Batala. I am very -happy here.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The end of May found her back again in Amritsar, but -by no means downhearted. The fresh check was evidently -regarded by Miss Tucker as only temporary.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>May 30.</i>—It does my heart good to see Emily walking off to her -work, perhaps at 6 <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span>, so brave and bright, with firm, elastic -tread.... Sweet Margaret has been very unwell. She looks too -much like the statue of an angel in white marble. But she is better -again; and if we can coax her back to her old quarters here, and pet -her to any extent—her medicine—I think that she may weather the -hot weather well.</p> - -<p>‘As I have little need of a separate kahar here, I was advised to -part with V. I tried to do so, but I really could not. The poor -fellow pleaded,—it was so hard to get work,—and I remember how -miserable he looked when out of situation before. Then he is a -married man, and such an intelligent, faithful creature.<a name="FNanchor_66" id="FNanchor_66"></a><a href="#Footnote_66" class="fnanchor">[66]</a> So I gave -in! It seems to me very hard to cast off good servants, just because -the perpetual changing about makes one rather a supernumerary.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> -V. is invaluable to me at Batala; and I hope to return to Batala. -I was rather pleased at C.’s pleading for his companion. He seemed -quite eloquent; but I confess that I did not understand much -of his eloquence; only he evidently did not want poor V. to be cut -adrift. I would at any time, if troubles arose, trust my life either to -C. or V. I get quite interested in some of the servants, and they seem -to be really affectionate. They are much like children.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Amritsar</span>, <i>June 11, 1877</i>.—Emily said quietly to me yesterday, -“You certainly have wonderful health.” Not that I was well during -my last trying time at Batala; but I have surprised my friends by -getting all right again so very rapidly. The heat is very moderate as -yet. I have only once this year had the thermometer in my sleeping -room up to 90°. It seldom rises above 85° or 86°, which is nothing.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>June 22.</i>—The banyan-tree has dropped its brown leaves at last. -Fancy a tree waiting till May or June before it will put off its old -dress! It waits till all its new leaves are well out; and in midsummer -throws off the withered ones. It is a grand tree; the one -here is a fine one, but not to be compared to the one at Batala.</p> - -<p>‘The quite new school at Batala, the first <em>Boys’</em> School in which -Christianity is taught, has already risen to 175 pupils. The house is -too small, and I. D.<a name="FNanchor_67" id="FNanchor_67"></a><a href="#Footnote_67" class="fnanchor">[67]</a> is going to give up his for it, and take another. -The religious instruction has been given by three natives.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>June 30.</i>—Dear Emily is done up. She actually asked me for an -amusing book, feeling evidently fit for little but to lie on the sofa and -read. She overworks, and the season tells on her. When dear Leila -happens to be writing to Bella Frances, would she kindly ask her to -send me by post “Fairy Know-a-bit,” and “Fairy Frisket,” and -“Pride and his Prisoners,” my funniest tales. We have three trying -months at least to come; and I want to keep my ladies as cheerful -as I can. They have not much time for reading, except when poorly, -and then a laugh is medicine.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>July 2.</i>—The work is going on at Batala, love, though we are -absent. The Bible-woman, lately sent, who was here to-day, has -access into nearly double the number of zenanas that Florrie and I -had. There is also daily bazaar-preaching; and I. D. tells me -that he has great hopes from the new Batala Boys’ School, where -the little lads listen readily to daily religious instruction. The -women, I hear, want me back; but I do not see my way to returning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> -till the rains are over. It would not do to dwell in a house which -might be surrounded by water.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>July 14.</i>—It was so nice last Wednesday welcoming my dharm-nephew<a name="FNanchor_68" id="FNanchor_68"></a><a href="#Footnote_68" class="fnanchor">[68]</a> -back to Amritsar. Dharm is a good word to distinguish my -Missionary relatives from my relatives by birth. A Godmother is a -<em>Dharm</em>-mai. The Natives themselves have put me up to adopting the -distinction. One of them asked Emily after me as her “dharm-poti,” -(religion-aunt). My dharm-nephew was only two days in Amritsar; -he is off to Dhamsala, to be out of the heat of the plains. He looked -better than I had hoped to see him, and just his own bright self.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO —— ——</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>July 20, 1877.</i></p> - -<p>‘Mr. Clark told us the other evening that he had had an hour’s -interview with a Brahmin, who has come from beyond Benares. -This man’s views remind one of the Brahmo Somaj; but God grant -that this Hindu may find more light than those Hindu Unitarians -ever found. He is a man of great courage; he has flung aside the -prejudices of his caste; he vehemently opposes idol-worship, and -will readily eat with Christians. One of his special difficulties in -regard to our faith is, I believe, the difficulty of reconciling God’s -justice with the punishment of the Innocent. The Brahmin is a -gifted, eloquent man, and many go to hear him.</p> - -<p>‘Margaret and I were taking a moonlight drive after the heat of -the day, with lightning flickering in the sky, when we passed a house -in which I knew that the Brahmin has taken up his abode. It is -some little way out of the city, and is a European bungalow. I -pointed out to Margaret a little crowd in the compound, in the -picturesque white Oriental costume, and told her that it was formed -of those who were listening to the preacher.</p> - -<p>‘Margaret stopped the carriage, and we tried to catch the words -which could reach us at the distance. They were, however, few; so -we got out of the carriage, and without going near the crowd drew a -little nearer and nearer to the place where the Brahmin was addressing -his audience. We were still too far off to hear much, and there -was too much of Hindi mixed with his Urdu to make his language -clear; but we could see the man’s eloquent, animated gestures, and -hear the rich tones of his voice.</p> - -<p>‘It was a very picturesque scene; the mingled torchlight, moonlight, -and heat-lightning,—the quaint, white-robed crowd,—the man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> -who has dared to break through so much, who calls himself a Luther, -telling idolaters of the folly of idol-worship. I should think that -it would be wise to place in communication with this remarkable -man some of our most talented converts from Hinduism—not -Muhammadanism.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p>‘<i>Aug. 11, 1877.</i>—I missed a grand opportunity the other day of -killing a centipede. It lay so quiet, as if to invite me to make myself -illustrious. But I hate crunching creatures, so called out for -some one to kill my centipede.... It is not fear of being bitten, -but dislike of killing. The ladies think that it would not do for -me to keep house, for that I should spoil the servants. I <em>did</em> give -C. a decided rebuke the other day for beating his wife. He promised -me to be kind in future.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Aug. 13.</i>—I have this morning received my precious Laura’s -letter, with a request for a certain prayer—which I shall certainly -remember. If a feeling of fear comes over my Laura, it must surely -be as regards the <em>act</em> of departure, not what follows; for there is -“no condemnation” to Christ’s people, no death in the real sense of -the word.</p> - -<p>‘But why, love, should we fear the act of departing? How many, -many, pass Jordan, as it were, dry-shod? Remember how peacefully -sweet Fanny sank to rest,—dearest Mother,—how my Letitia’s face -was lighted up with a smile,—how our Bible-woman at Batala sang -aloud a happy hymn within a few hours of her going! To me it -seems such a simple thing for the—I had almost said <em>imprisoned</em> -soul, to leave its “cottage of clay,”—for the bird, as soon as fledged, -to spread its wings! We are winged creatures, and it seems a -humiliation to be creeping on earth so long. Only think what the -first sight of the Lord will be! I am not sure whether some -departing ones do not see Him before the last breath is drawn.’</p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="II_CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1877-1878<br /> -A BROWN AND WHITE ‘HAPPY FAMILY’</span></h3> - -<p>Though Miss Tucker had by no means fallen in love -with Dalhousie during her former visit to the Hills, she -was again this August to be, as she said, ‘almost trapped’ -into going there. Mrs. Elmslie, albeit in need of rest, -could not leave a child in the Orphanage who was -dangerously ill, perhaps dying; and Miss Wauton, worn -out with heavy toil through the very hot weather, imperatively -needed change, yet was in no condition to manage -the long distance alone. Miss Tucker therefore resolved -to go with her; and the two started off in company, Miss -Tucker in her duli, Miss Wauton on a pony. They -travelled slowly, with frequent rests by the way, so as to -extend the usual two days’ hard journeying into six days -of easy advance. On August 22, before leaving Amritsar, -Miss Tucker wrote:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘Man has been described as a “laughing animal,” “a cooking -animal,” to distinguish him from the lower creation. I would suggest -“a packing animal,” for neither birds nor beasts—except the -elephant—have anything to do with filling trunks! What an amount -of packing I have had in the last two and a half years! Of course, -these thoughts are suggested by my present business of packing for -the Hills.</p> - -<p>‘One must be prepared for all sorts of weather, for burning heat, -bitter cold, or furious rain. One may have all three in the course of -a week. Then one must prepare—as for an attack of cavalry—for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> -dinner-invitation from the Commissioner’s wife. One is pretty certain -that one will meet some worldly folk, who are inclined to think -Natives “niggers,” Converts hypocrites, and Missionaries half-rogues -and half-fools; so that one must not “appear as a scrub.” I do -not wonder that the weary Emily wants to keep in the jungle as -long as she can. Ah! if we could but keep in the jungle <em>all</em> the -time, I need not pack up my “Conference Cream,”<a name="FNanchor_69" id="FNanchor_69"></a><a href="#Footnote_69" class="fnanchor">[69]</a> nor my faithful -moire antique. There would be some fun in meeting with a cheetah -or a hyena,—I should not like a bear unless there were a kud<a name="FNanchor_70" id="FNanchor_70"></a><a href="#Footnote_70" class="fnanchor">[70]</a> -between us,—but I shrink from the world and his wife. However, -Missionaries, like sailors, are bound for all weathers....</p> - -<p>‘If it won’t shock dear ——, I think that I must give you a laugh -over a funny little story, which was told me the other day as a true -one. A very attractive Scotch clergyman was teased in the same -way that the Energetic used to be. At last a—one can’t call her -<em>lady</em>, actually wrote to offer him “her purse, her hand, and her -heart.” The cream of the story is the clergyman’s reply. He wrote -to his silly sheep: “I advise you to give your heart to God, your -purse to the poor, and your hand to him who asks for it.” Was it -not clever? I hope that the lady profited by the pastoral rebuke, -though she can hardly have enjoyed it....</p> - -<p>‘Thanks for the paper about the Telephone. But I hope that -we may <em>not</em> hear our Queen’s voice by it, if it is to sound like a -trombone.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>From Dinaira, a place some twenty-two miles short of -Dalhousie, she wrote:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘There is something more soothing to the eye in the softly wooded -mountains in which we are now cradled, than in the cold, stern white -peaks, seen higher up. The great want is water. One sees the rough, -almost precipitous, channels of mountain torrents, but there is not a -drop trickling in them. The land suffers sorely from drought. The -early crops were partly spoilt by furious storms, the second crops are -threatened with destruction by the failure of the rains. A peasant -saw me yesterday very slowly getting down rather a rough bit, and -with kindly courtesy came and offered me the help of his brown -hand. He almost immediately afterwards began to speak of the -want of rain; it is the uppermost thought amongst the poor, dear -people....</p> - -<p>‘I feel that I was rather ungrateful last year about Dalhousie.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> -Though I do not like the place much, it is a very great blessing to -have it.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Dalhousie</span>, <i>Sept. 3, 1877</i>.—This ought to be a good day for letter-writing; -for it is like an exaggerated November day in England: rain -more violent; wind more furious.... I amuse our ladies by my indignation -at one of our best hands, Miss H. of J——, deserting us for matrimony. -Merrily laughed the bonny blue-bell at my proposition that, -in addition to the fine of £100 imposed on Mission Miss Sahibas who -marry within three years of coming out, it should be part of the -contract that they should have all their hair shaved off on the day -before the wedding. Don’t you approve, dear? In the Strathclyde, -beside Miss F. and myself, there were four Mission Miss Sahibas -going out for the first time. One of the four has gone home, -invalided; two have married; only my noble Miss G. remains in -the field! It is a great deal worse when experienced Missionaries -marry; we do not know how to supply their places....</p> - -<p>‘You must not fancy that we have always weather like this in the -hills. When we first arrived, and for days afterwards, the weather -was lovely, July in the middle of the day, October at night. The -scenery was glorious. I hope, however, that I may get back next -week. I intend to travel rapidly, as I travel alone.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>A few days afterwards saw Miss Tucker back in -Amritsar; and later in the same month she went all the -long journey to Murree, giving herself only six days of -absence, to be present at the wedding of her nephew, -Louis Tucker. Thence she again returned to Amritsar. -Exciting events had happened at Amritsar during even -that absence, in the shape of fresh Baptisms and fresh -persecutions. In October she was once more off on a -short itinerating tour through villages. A letter written -on the first of October refers to the Batala work, of which -her heart was full.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘Mr. Beutel told me with regret that Mr. Baring, on account of low -funds, had desired him on Nov. 1st to stop two village-schools near -Batala, in which 50 or 60 boys are receiving instruction. I had my -Laura’s £5—grown to £5, 10s.—half of her handsome gift, of which -Margaret has the other half. This will keep the village schools -going till April; and by that time, please God, others may send -help.... People do not seem to care for <em>village</em> schools. Government<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> -does not. And the people—our dear Natives—are so anxious -to have them. The nicest boys seem the village ones.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>An undated letter belongs, probably, to about this time.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I think I mentioned to you that a troop of guests invaded my -poor Margaret almost in the middle of the night, 3 <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span> She had -too much bustle, too much discomfort. She fell ill, as was almost to -be expected; but I left her up again, and going to work. When she -was lying on her sick-bed,—lovely she looked, with her soft pink -cheeks, and her long golden hair hanging loose,—I went and had a -chat with her. She has had too few chats with those whom she -loves since going to live at the Orphanage.... Says Margaret, -“What caps are you going to take to your nephew’s?” “Oh, killing -caps,” said I. Perhaps they would look killing if Margaret wore -them! She would not believe me,—her playful banter, her arch -smile, so reminded me <em>of my Laura</em>! Margaret went on exactly as -you would have done. She was certain that my velvet cap must -want a new ruche; would I send over a whole set of caps for her to -improve? It would amuse her, she said. The Doctor came in, -when I was having one of my playful chats with Margaret; and he -highly approved of my giving her a little laugh.... She called me -“sparkling champagne.” There is a fine name for a Missionary -Miss Sahiba! Fancy my discovering one day that, in her crowded -little dwelling, she had so emptied herself of needful comforts, that -she had not so much as a basin to wash in. If she wished to wash -her hands, she must stoop or kneel to perform the ablution in her -bath! Off went I to the city, and procured a toilette-set for our -house in Batala, which Margaret has the use of till we go,—when I -hope that she will return to the Bungalow.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The above must have been written before her visit to -Murree, already mentioned. By the middle of October she -was on the point of again starting for Batala; and she -wrote cheerily beforehand, on the 15th:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘Many, many thanks to my own sweet Laura for the pretty sketch -of what was once to me a very happy home. I am so pleased that -your hand has not lost its skill. I am in great hopes that, like -myself, you may have renewed vigour as you walk down the incline -of life’s hill. My companions here wonder at me. In another month -I shall have been two years in India,—only two months, journeys -included, spent in the Hills; all the remaining twenty-two in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> -Plains, with one peculiarly unhealthy season, and another of -unusually prolonged heat;—and yet I am just as strong and well -as if I had been just sauntering about an English garden all the -time....</p> - -<p>‘I am considered to have a wonderful constitution; and as my -Laura is my own sister, I always hope that she has one also....</p> - -<p>‘Take no fears about Batala. Fear is another thing with which -Missionaries should have nothing to do. It seems to me that English -folk in India rather change in character. I never imagined the -effect of being in a land like this, where you belong to a conquering -race. I must not just say that no one seems afraid of anything, for -that would be an exaggeration; but physical courage seems to come -quite naturally. Those who might be timid girls in England fearlessly -travel at night, quite alone—save for the company of wild-looking -natives,—through lonely mountain-passes, perhaps through -lightning and storm, with the possibility of meeting cheetahs, bears, -and snakes. I feel no more afraid of being at Batala, with or -<em>without</em> Mr. Beutel, than you would of sleeping in a London hotel.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">FROM MRS. ELMSLIE TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Oct. 18, 1877.</i></p> - -<p>‘I have just returned from seeing our darling off to Batala. I -know you will be sorry to hear she has gone there again; and Miss -Wauton, Mr. Clark, and I have tried hard to prevent it,—in vain! -She thinks it her duty to go, and she makes it her pleasure. How -we miss her here, I cannot tell you. She is beloved and honoured by -rich and poor, young and old. She is our Sunshine. Her bright -fancies, her quick perceptions, her wise suggestions, are invaluable -to all of us in the Mission.</p> - -<p>‘While she frets over her want of power in speaking Urdu and -Panjabi, we are rejoicing, not only in her power of writing for the -people, but in her wonderful perception of the national character, her -insight into the weaknesses and also into the virtues of our Native -friends, Christian and heathen. Her loving, unselfish ways are -wonderfully soothing and sustaining; and life has seemed to me -a different thing since God brought her to us.</p> - -<p>‘She has been wonderfully free of fever during the past year; and -the excitability which used to make me anxious has quite passed -away. I think she has been looking quite lovely of late; the -expression of her dear face has been so restful, so sweet, so angel-like. -She has been a little less thin too, and has been wearing more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> -becoming caps and bonnets. We find it necessary to look after her -in such sublunary things; and many a laugh she has at our anxiety -about her appearance. You asked me to tell you of anything -she ever needs; and I think you may like to know that she has -no intermediate dress for everyday use; nothing between the dark -green cashmere and a very pale kind of Chinese silk.</p> - -<p>‘A light material of a rather dark grey colour, nicely made up with -a tunic bodice and belt, would be very useful to her. But what -would she say to me, if she thought I had written this? Another -thing is a <em>feather</em> pillow. Such a thing is not to be had in India; -and her dear head is, I am sure, often tired. We put our only one into -her gari just now, hoping she would not notice it. Off went her -coach, and we were so pleased to think it was with her, but she found -it out before reaching the end of the Avenue, and sent it back. If -you could send one with a coloured cover, it could do either on bed -or sofa; and I think it might be well to put her name on it in -indelible ink, for she is so very likely to give away such a desirable -thing....’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">C. M. T. TO MRS. E——.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>Nov. 15, 1877</i>.</p> - -<p>‘Where do you think the gay Mission Miss Sahiba has been -to-day? Never consider mine a monotonous life! Why, I have -been to a fair, a <i lang="sa">mela</i>, as they call it here. I had never thought of a -lady’s going to a heathen fair; but two of our Mission ladies are here -for ten days, to conduct examinations in the schools. Our valuable -Miss Wauton said that she would like to go to the mela. Of course, -I would not let her go without a lady companion; so we both -accompanied Mr. Beutel in his light covered cart, plunging over ruts -in the kachcha road in fine style.</p> - -<p>‘It was a pretty sight. The weather was delicious. Numbers of -people in their picturesque costumes were threading their way to the -village of A——, white being the prevailing colour of the men’s -costumes, gay red that of the women’s, with a fair sprinkling of green, -a touch of yellow and blue, and here and there a grand display -of glittering gold. But we did not go just to look at the folk, or to -buy fairings either. Emily and I went armed with books and pictures, -to try and sow a little good seed amongst the women, whilst Mr. -Beutel and the two Catechists preached to the men.</p> - -<p>‘Mr. Beutel found a shady place for us, and Emily and I tried to -gather women around us. The men were curious, and wanted to see -and hear also. We could not secure an exclusively feminine audience.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> -It was a Hindu mela; and not many Muhammadans seemed to be -present, which made matters easier for us.... No one objected to -hearing as much about the Blessed Saviour as we could tell them. -Emily speaks Punjabi famously; I have only about a thimble-full of -it; so I chiefly listened to Emily, and held the umbrella to shield her -from the sun.</p> - -<p>‘It was interesting to look at the faces, when Emily, with admirable -fluency, told the story of the Prodigal Son. At this time her audience -seemed to be principally Sikh men. They crouched upon the ground -around us, and listened with hearty interest. Nowhere, either from -men or women, did we meet with any rudeness; nor did any one -seem vexed with our describing what our Lord had done for us....</p> - -<p>‘The way in which Batala is opening out is marvellous. I go from -Zenana to Zenana, and have not by any means finished paying all my -<em>first</em> visits!! Our Bible-woman thinks that about <em>thirty</em> Zenanas are -open to her. I doubt that nearly so many are open in the large -mother-stations of Amritsar or Lahore. We ought to have two or -three clever, active, strong Miss Sahibas here, instead of one elderly -lady, who is slow at both learning and teaching.</p> - -<p>‘The two ladies from Amritsar are delighted with Batala. To-day -is, I think, the anniversary of my arrival in India; so I have entered -upon my third year! My Missionary life has, on the whole, been a -very happy one....’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p>‘<i>Dec. 13, 1877.</i>—The overland mail was particularly long in arriving -this time. I hoped that it would bring me something particularly -nice; and what should come to-day but your dear loving letter, and -the first halves of your munificent contribution to our schools! How -very kind and liberal my Laura is! I had been speaking to Mr. -Beutel but yesterday of those two village schools, which would—from -the lowness of funds—have been dropped, but for your last handsome -gift. I was asking Mr. Beutel how far your Rs.55 would carry them -on. He replied—till past the beginning of March. Beyond that -there was no provision for them at all.</p> - -<p>‘How delighted Mr. Beutel will be, on his return from Amritsar, to -hear that a bountiful supply has come in! I think it better to apply -your gift to the village schools, than to the girls’ schools in Batala. -The latter, I think, excite more interest, and are not so likely to be in -want of funds. These poor village schools—since for retrenchment -sake they were cast off—are like waifs and strays. Government does -not care for village schools; the School Society cannot afford to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> -keep up half the desirable number. Mr. Beutel often receives -applications for new village schools, and is so much interested in -them that he and our Catechist have one between them....</p> - -<p>‘We are to have a grand tamasha here at Christmas-time. Mr. -Beutel is going to gather, not only the boys of our Batala Mission -School, but boys from village schools. Of course, this is not merely to -give enjoyment, though the enjoyment will probably be great, but to -bring more forcibly before the lads the tidings of great gladness. -We are a little puzzled about the poor little girls; as their cruel and -absurd pardah rules prevent the possibility of gathering them all -together, even in the Bible-woman’s house.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The beginning of 1878 found Miss Tucker at Batala; -and though once more for a short time her work there was -to be broken through, the spring of this same year, as -explained earlier, would see an end of the difficulty which -had attended her permanent residence in the place. The -letter to her sister, written on January 5th, is all through -a particularly characteristic one. A large amount will -bear quotation.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘The warm dress which you have so very kindly procured for me -has not yet arrived; but I should not wonder if it were here on -Monday or Tuesday.... We have been guessing of what colour it -will be. Mrs. J. and I both fixed upon grey, Mrs. Beutel purple, -and Mr. Beutel brown. Perhaps after all it will turn out to be blue. -I hope that I may have it in time to wear at B.’s baptism, which -I do hope may take place to-morrow week, if some clergyman will -only come from Amritsar. To this baptism I look forward with -joyful interest. B.’s white dress is probably ready now. We like -converts to wear pure white at baptism. I intend to give J., the -Bible-woman, a new skirt to wear on the occasion; and I should -like to wear something perfectly fresh too....</p> - -<p>‘I was in a Zenana to-day, which it is always a mental effort to -visit; but it is very interesting. Instead of talking to the women there, -I am certain to have one or two men, descendants of the famous -Guru Nanak, who engross the conversation with me almost entirely.</p> - -<p>‘The religion of the fine old fellow who is the principal talker is a -regular puzzle. He talks Panjabi; so you may imagine how very -difficult it is for me to understand him; and he <em>wants to make me -understand</em>. I do my best to do so. This is what I gather of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> -views. S. is <em>not</em> a Muhammadan; he says that he is a Hindu; -though by his birth he ought to be a Sikh. He reverences Guru -Nanak,<a name="FNanchor_71" id="FNanchor_71"></a><a href="#Footnote_71" class="fnanchor">[71]</a> very properly, but thinks that Guru Nanak has given religious -tenets such as I am certain that he never did. We have no reason to -suppose that the excellent Guru had ever heard of our Saviour. But -S. propounds doctrines that are amazing from the lips of a <em>Hindu</em>. -He believes in the one true God. He believes that a time of great -war and trouble will come; and that then Isa Masih (Jesus Christ) -will come like a flash of lightning, and become the Ishar (Divine -Lord) of all the Earth.</p> - -<p>‘I had taken a Gurmukhi Testament with me. Neither of the men -seemed disposed to read it. I thought that perhaps neither of them -<em>could</em>; so I opened it myself, and chose a pretty easy place. I had -never read the Gurmukhi character in a Zenana before. My old Sikh—for -I cannot help considering him one—listened very attentively, -correcting my pronunciation now and then. I did not venture -to read much. Then he took the Testament himself, and began to -read it in regular Sikh fashion, in a kind of measured chant, as if it -were poetry. It was clear that he <em>could</em> read; so I left the precious -Volume as a loan in that house. May God bless it!...’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Jan. 9, 1878.</i>—Hurrah! the box has come! It is in process -of being opened.</p> - -<p>‘Was I not a real witch? Did I not guess a grey dress? What -an elegant, ladylike, quiet costume! And so warm and comfortable!... -When I opened my tempting box, I thought of the dear fingers -which had been employed in putting it up! How very, very kind -you have been! So many, many thanks! And what loves of -cushions! You have remembered my weakness for cushions. Soft, -warm, and so pretty!... I am obliged to go to Amritsar, just for a -few days, as Mr. Clark and Margaret cannot come here; and we must -have a serious, prayerful discussion about what is really very important, -and too complicated for letters.... I see my <em>own</em> path clearly. -I intend, please God, to stick by Batala. My friends will not hear -of my staying alone.... May God guide us! Batala should NOT -be abandoned.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Jan. 23.</i>—I have come back from Amritsar, with nothing settled, -except that the Beutels are to go to Amritsar about the middle of -March. The Batala affairs have been much talked over.... I -earnestly hope that I may not have a third time to retreat from -Batala, for lack of a companion. We are beating about for one, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> -it seems a hard thing to find, we are so undermanned. Every one -seems to acknowledge the great importance of Batala....</p> - -<p>‘As for its being unhealthy, I regard it as <em>more</em> healthy than either -Amritsar or Lahore. The tank is a lovely tank, with no bad smell; -and when it is very full I can <em>see</em> the current of water flowing in on -one side and out at the other. Fishes live and jump about in it; and -birds delight in its bright waters. I have a better chance of keeping -well through the hot weather here than at the bungalow at Amritsar. -This house is far better built, with thick walls, lofty rooms, etc. But -none of my Missionary friends at Amritsar will listen to my staying -here alone. So I must just wait, and see what is God’s Will. He -can send me a companion, if He sees right to do so.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Feb. 7.</i>—Perhaps you will be glad to hear that all our attempts to -find a companion for me at Batala have failed. Poor —— must go -back to England; it was a mistake ever to have sent out so delicate -a lady. Miss —— with whom I was in treaty, is going home too. -Mrs. —— has been secured for another station.... Perhaps I have -been too ready to say to myself, “There is no place on earth where -I can be so useful as at Batala.” I must come down a little, which is -wholesome. But I have not any sense of defeat; no, thank God,—every -visit to Batala, it seems as if fresh ground had been gained. -The waves retreat again and again, while the tide is advancing.... -I believe that a far better spirit, a spirit of kindness towards us, -a lessening of prejudice, a most encouraging readiness to listen, is -now spreading in Batala.<a name="FNanchor_72" id="FNanchor_72"></a><a href="#Footnote_72" class="fnanchor">[72]</a> Maulvi Z. felt the difference. B—n -feels the difference. I believe that there will be <em>real</em> regret at -our leaving Batala. Dear B—n!... I had brought for B—n’s -children two gay little coverlets.... B—n took them and wrapped -them round the plump little girls as chaddahs. I think that he was -quite pleased....</p> - -<p>‘Oh, did I tell you—I told somebody—about my other Brahmin; -the elderly man who prays by the side of our tank? I have repeatedly -spoken to him in my indifferent Panjabi; and I spoke to my nephew, -R. Bateman, about him, when he was here for two days. So on one -of the mornings I see my nephew seated beside my Brahmin close to -the tank, with only a handkerchief round his delicate head. His old -Auntie soon supplied him with an umbrella. R. Bateman gave me -afterwards an account of the Brahmin’s strange view of religion.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> -One can hardly imagine a mind in which the whole visible creation is -regarded as God. The Brahmin had no idea of <em>sin</em>; he had <em>never -seen it</em>, he said,—as if it were a thing like a stone or a tree!</p> - -<p>‘I saw the poor fellow by the tank yesterday morning, and went -out and spoke to him. I invited him to come to morning prayers. -Rather to my surprise, the dear man really did come. He must be -a wondrously meek Brahmin; for he seated himself on the floor -amongst the servants, labourers, etc., apparently quite forgetful of the -tremendous difference between their castes and his own. Mr. Beutel -makes morning family prayers almost like a regular service. He -not only reads the Bible, but expounds. I had asked him, for my -Brahmin’s sake, to make his address as Punjabish as possible; so -he stuck in Punjabi words where he could. My Brahmin looked -very attentive. He has a sort of childlike readiness to listen, looking -full at you when you speak; and his face quite brightening -as if with pleasure when you talk of a Saviour. It must be all so -strangely new to him! I wonder if he will come again....</p> - -<p>‘To-day I went to two new houses,—I have such a number to go -to! When I sang of the Saviour’s invitation, to a Hindu, not only -did she seem to listen attentively, but I saw her wiping moist eyes.</p> - -<p>‘Margaret and E. Clay intend coming here the day after to-morrow -for two days.... I must not dwell on parting with Margaret.<a name="FNanchor_73" id="FNanchor_73"></a><a href="#Footnote_73" class="fnanchor">[73]</a> I -rejoice in the happiness which I hope she will enjoy. She has -worked long and very hard.... No doubt there are some wise and -merciful reasons for sending me away from Batala.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>Feb. 14</i>.—Another curious phase in my strange, strange -life! I told you or dear Leila of the idea of the Boys’ Orphanage -being brought here. That idea was knocked on the head; but -another is taking such shape that it is likely enough that I shall find -myself, not exactly planted in, but on the top of—and underneath also—<em>another</em> -boys’ school! The Rev. F. Baring, the Bishop of Durham’s -son, has fallen in love with Batala, and has set his heart -on buying this house from Government, for a Boarding-school for -Christian Native Boys.</p> - -<p>‘We have no wish, however, to lose our hold of our beautiful palace -as a station for the Zenana Mission; so it is likely that, if Mr. Baring -succeed in buying Anarkalli, he will allow our Mission to rent from -him, on easy terms, that part of the house which we now occupy (by -we I mean myself), with the addition of the drawing-room and part -at least of the grand dining-room. Dear, good Babu Singha and his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> -wife and family will probably live in another part of the palace, he -being Under-Superintendent of the School!!</p> - -<p>‘Here’s a brown and white Happy Family for you! Natives and -Europeans can hardly chum together; yet it would be absurd to -have <em>three</em> cooks for us. The present idea is for Mr. Baring and me -to chum, <em>till</em> I am joined by any young lady. Mr. Baring ... is -quite happy with me, because of my venerable age, which I have -found such an advantage in India. He asked me to-day to have him -as a nephew! How rich I am in these dharm-nephews,—to say -nothing of the real ones! Now I have <em>five</em>; one of them being my -Afghan, and the others four of the most valuable clergymen in the -Panjab Mission.<a name="FNanchor_74" id="FNanchor_74"></a><a href="#Footnote_74" class="fnanchor">[74]</a> Henry, my Afghan boy,<a name="FNanchor_75" id="FNanchor_75"></a><a href="#Footnote_75" class="fnanchor">[75]</a> you must know. He is -the youngest of all my dharm-nephews.</p> - -<p>‘Now, what does my sweet Laura say to my plans—and my family? -I like you to know all my nephews.... I have more nieces even -than nephews; but you have had enough of my dharm-family for -the present. Mr. Clark wanted me to take him in too. If he had -asked to be a <em>brother</em>, I should have welcomed him; but I really -could not have as a nephew one to whom we look up as a head-pastor, -a kind of bishop! I don’t think that my nephews should be -more than forty years old.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Amritsar</span>, <i>Feb. 23, 1878</i>.—Here I am again in dear old Amritsar.... -I know that you will be curious to hear how the Batala school -plan progresses. Well, we are waiting to hear what our saintly new -Bishop says to it. In a matter of such importance it is right to wait -for the advice of such an Apostolic man.... I wait passively. There -is plenty of work for me at Amritsar, more than I can do at all -properly....</p> - -<p>‘You see, Laura darling, there are quantities of Aunts in England; -but an old Auntie is a rare bird in India, and therefore in request. I -am like a hen with such a large brood!</p> - -<p>‘Dearest Margaret will be much missed. Many, many, both -English and Natives, love her.... The Native Christians have -quietly subscribed for a shawl for her Mother, as a token of their -grateful love. I think the Natives very affectionate. People talk of -their being ungrateful; but those who talk so have perhaps never -<em>earned</em> their gratitude. If you love them, they love you! They are -very sensitive, both to kindness and to unkindness....’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>March 4, 1878.</i></p> - -<p>’ ... Missionary work can be just as truly done in England as in -India; but only a few of the dear workers <em>can</em>—without forsaking -other duties—come out so far as the Panjab. Those who come here -should be strong also, physically as well as mentally suited for the -peculiar work and trying climate....</p> - -<p>‘There are plenty of poor in Amritsar, as well as Batala. I went -to Mrs. Clark’s yesterday, at the large Mission House. In her -garden were quantities of poor folk; between three and four hundred, -counting children. A Catechist preached to them first; and then a -great number of chapatties, a kind of thick flat cake, of very simple -make, with a small quantity of dal,<a name="FNanchor_76" id="FNanchor_76"></a><a href="#Footnote_76" class="fnanchor">[76]</a> was handed round and distributed. -Adults had two chapatties each; children one. Mr. Clark -had had a Brahmin to cook, for Hindu beggars would not otherwise -have liked the food, and Muhammadans do not object to a Brahmin’s -cooking. Station-people subscribe to help in the distribution of this -food....</p> - -<p>‘Mr. Clark and my new nephew, Mr. Baring, have gone to Lahore -to see our new Bishop.<a name="FNanchor_77" id="FNanchor_77"></a><a href="#Footnote_77" class="fnanchor">[77]</a> He is known to be such a saint, that thanksgivings -have been offered again and again for his appointment.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. J. BOSWELL.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>March 4, 1878.</i></p> - -<p>‘Is poor, dear —— going to remain in the same house, so full to -her of sad memories? People feel so differently on this subject. -Some cling to the spot where they have loved and sorrowed,—others -fly from it. I should never like to cross the threshold of No. 3 again. -I am rather pleased that it has another number now. There is <em>no</em> -3 Upper Portland Place now.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p>‘<i>March 8.</i>—I can fancy the request to have my letters directed to -Batala has excited a little curiosity. It really seems likely that -our comical arrangement will be carried out; and that I and my -nephew will find ourselves chumming together in the midst of a Boys’ -School!!</p> - -<p>‘The Panjab is eager to have a boys’ school for young Christian -Native gentlemen. The Bishop approves. Our boys are to pay<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> -Rs.5 a month. This may cover food expenses, but of course not the -expense of first-class teaching. Batala is to have this, the nucleus of -a future Panjabi Eton or Harrow (if it please God to prosper it), the -training-place for our clergymen, lawyers, and merchants. I am <em>not</em> -to be Matron. I am the sole representative—European—of our -Ladies’ Zenana Society; but it would be strange if I lived in the same -building with the dear boys, and took no interest in them. It is probable -enough that I shall find myself playing at Oxford or Cambridge, -or giving a music-lesson to young Panjabis. A comical idea suggests -itself. I have a large family of new Nephews and Nieces in India. -Am I to have a whole troop of brown Grandnephews in perspective!!! -Don’t fancy them ugly savages. Many will probably be -winsome enough,—bright, attractive, and courteous.</p> - -<p>‘Good Babu Singha and his excellent wife will probably be in the -house, but not chum with Europeans....</p> - -<p>‘Only imagine my darling Laura dreaming of coming to Egypt -to meet me!! But I doubt her being up to such a journey; and -mine would be about as formidable a one. But the dream is one of -“old,” not “young Love”!’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>March 15.</i>—Now, darling, to answer your objections to my spending -the hot season at Batala.... I doubt that the risk to health -from climate will be at all greater at Batala than at damp Amritsar. -Always remember, love, that at the former place I am high above -the ground, while at the latter I am on it. This makes an immense -difference. The large inner room at Batala would be cooler than any -room here....</p> - -<p>‘I intend to take my large harmonium to Batala. It may be of -immense use there. I suppose that I shall have charge of all the -music; for I do not believe that either my Bhatija (nephew) or -the Singhas know anything about it. It is of <em>immense</em> importance. -Mr. R. told me yesterday that the Rev. C., perhaps the most -valuable convert in all the Panjab (he is a Bengali), was first brought -to Christ by listening to Church music. It carried his soul away! -I wish that I were more competent for the charge; but I must hope -and pray that God may bless my little attempts to serve Him by -music. I am so thankful that age has not affected my voice; at least, -it does not seem to me to have done so.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The latter fact would tell little. People in advancing -years are seldom able to judge of their own voices.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> -Others, however, speak of the unusual manner in which -Miss Tucker’s voice lasted. It had never been one of -much power or sweetness; but she had always had a -sensitive ear, and had sung well; and to the end she -still sang in tune, even when the voice itself became -cracked with age.</p> - -<p>One other point in the above may be noted. Miss -Tucker was throughout anxious to make the best of her -beloved Batala; and undoubtedly this was a case of -‘making the best.’ If Amritsar was damp, so also must -Batala have been,—at all events, in the seasons of heavy -floods, when it was often impossible to get about, from -the state of the roads. There were times when Anarkalli -was all but a veritable island, in the midst of a kind of -lake. This could hardly be regarded as healthy, while it -lasted.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right"><i>March 28, 1878.</i></p> - -<p>‘I am to have my “pen,” about which my dharm-nieces joke a -great deal. Mera Bhatija<a name="FNanchor_78" id="FNanchor_78"></a><a href="#Footnote_78" class="fnanchor">[78]</a> is going to cut a slice off his magnificent -dining-room, to make a cool retreat for the Auntie. As a bamboo-screen -right across would be very unsightly, if seen in its bareness, I -am going to have mine covered on both sides. Fancy a screen, -twenty feet long and six feet high! I have been very fortunate in -securing a most suitable cloth for the cover. A bedroom chintz -would have looked quite out of character, but I have bought a native -cloth, with an Oriental pattern, very tapestry-like, old-fashioned -conventional flowers and birds on a blue ground. It is such a -pattern as one might see in a picture, and will not destroy the effect -of the Oriental hall. Every one who saw it at once fixed upon it as -<em>the</em> thing....</p> - -<p>‘Emily has ordered eight chairs for my rooms,—I had two of my -own,—and your beloved Mother knows that I am splendidly supplied -with cushions; such dainty cushions! I like my rooms to look -rather nice, as young Panjab may get an extra polish, if admitted to -an English lady’s drawing-room.’</p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="II_CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1878<br /> -PERSECUTIONS</span></h3> - -<p>Once more Miss Tucker settled down in Batala—for life! -She would only leave the place again for her short and well-earned -holidays; and at the last for her passing away.</p> - -<p>During many years her home was still to be in the -quaint old palace, described by others as draughty, weird, -forlorn, desolate; though she herself so resolutely looked -upon the discomforts of the old building through rose-tinted -glasses. But its dreary aspect was soon to be -changed. The bright faces of Panjabi lads, the merry -voices of Panjabi scholars, were to fill with fresh life those -big and empty rooms. ‘The Baring High School,’ as it -was called, had its first existence in the shape of a small -boarding-school at Amritsar, which Mr. Baring decided to -remove to the palace at Batala. About fifteen boys were, -in the beginning, at Anarkalli,—described by A. L. O. E. -as ‘our choicest young Natives, converts or descendants -of converts; one is the grandson of a martyr!’ These -boys or their friends paid fees, when they could, which -was not always; and the fees, though perhaps sufficient -to cover their food, were by no means sufficient to cover -the cost of a good education.</p> - -<p>From the spring of 1878 Mr. Baring resided there, as -C.M.S. Honorary Missionary, with control of the Boys’ -School, which indeed had been started mainly at his own<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> -expense; while Babu Singha worked under him as the -Master of the School. Miss Tucker, as she stated in her -letters, held no such post as that of Matron. Her position -was entirely independent, being that of Honorary -Zenana Missionary. She paid for her own rooms and her -own board in the Palace, and regarded Zenana visiting, -and the writing of small books for Indian readers, as her -prime occupations. But for Charlotte Tucker to live -under the same roof with all those boys, and not to give -them loving interest, not to attempt to teach or influence -them, would have been a sheer impossibility.</p> - -<p>Another Boys’ School had been started in Batala, which -must not be confounded with the above. The Baring -High School was—and is—distinctly for the education of -Indian Christian boys. The Mission School, known later -as ‘The Plough,’—Miss Tucker recognising strongly that -this early stage of work in Batala could only be compared -to a farmer’s ploughing of his fields,—was for Indian boys, -not yet Christian. They received Christian teaching; and -when a boy in the Plough School became a convert, he -was passed on usually to the High School. The very -starting of this ‘Plough School’ was due to Miss Tucker’s -liberality. Out of her own purse she generously paid the -main part of its expenses.</p> - -<p>We must turn again to her letters, with all their curiously -fresh, <em>young</em> eagerness and enjoyment, to realise -what her life was at this time. Charlotte Tucker might -call herself ‘old,’—she was very fond of doing so on every -possible occasion; but certainly none of the weight of age -had as yet descended upon her spirits.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO SIR W. HILL.<a name="FNanchor_79" id="FNanchor_79"></a><a href="#Footnote_79" class="fnanchor">[79]</a></p> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>April 13, 1878</i>.</p> - -<p>‘We hope next Sunday to have a Baptism in our lovely little lake; -and we have been practising baptismal hymns to sing on the joyful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> -occasion. We had some anxiety about our young convert.... He -went to Amritsar on business; and at the time when we expected -his return he did not come back.</p> - -<p>‘What could have happened? Had the dear youth been seized by -his Muhammadan relations? Such things do happen; the danger is a -very real one. It is often no easy matter to confess Christ in India. -Mr. B., who was here, wrote off a note to a Christian Maulvi in -Amritsar to search for the lad. He did so, and found him, and -brought him here in safety last night; but not before —— had had a -painful time of it in Amritsar.</p> - -<p>‘I looked with interest on that Christian Maulvi, as he sat in our -drawing-room, conversing with the English Missionaries.... <em>He</em> -has known well enough to what dangers a convert may be exposed; -for he has experienced them.... He was the first of his family to -take up the Cross. His Muhammadan neighbours formed the fiendish -design of <em>burning him alive in his house</em>. They piled up his clothes, -etc., in an under room. He was sleeping above. The Muhammadans -set fire to the pile; and the clothes, etc., were quickly consumed; -but the fire did not, as was intended, set the whole house in a blaze. -The ceiling was charred; that was all; and the Christian slept -unharmed, watched over by the Eye that never slumbers nor sleeps.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>About this time A. L. O. E. wrote home to another -quarter:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘Yesterday a letter arrived from the schoolmaster of O—— with -tidings that a lad of fifteen has had the courage to declare to his friends -his desire to become a Christian. The natural result of such a declaration -has followed,—the young confessor has been beaten. It is no -small matter to stand up thus openly for Christ in a heathen village. -The lad may have to endure much. I have seen one who was made -to stand in boiling oil by his own father, to hinder him from going to -the Christians. Whether the O—— boy’s conversion has been the -result of the Good Friday expedition we know not; but whether it be -so or not, the lad claims our sympathy and interest. We shall try to -bring him here, to the Batala Boarding-School, where he may at -least receive food and protection. “It is a refuge,” said our Christian -Maulvi to me yesterday, glancing up at the goodly building -raised by the Maharajah Shere Singh, who little dreamed that he -was preparing in it a home for a Christian Natives’ Boarding-School, -and also for the ladies of a Zenana Mission. I am at present the sole -English Agent of the latter Society here.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. E——.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>May 10, 1878.</i></p> - -<p>‘You may like to hear a little more about our School of young -Panjabis, as it is rather a curiosity.</p> - -<p>‘My nephew, Mr. Baring, has succeeded in making these young -Natives like not only cricket, but gardening. We are to have a -Horticultural Exhibition in August, when prizes are to be given for -the best flowers and fruit. Considering that the gardens are all on -ground <em>redeemed from the lake this year</em>, it will hardly be expected -that the show will equal one in the Botanical Gardens. But oh, you -should see our glorious pink water-lilies! They grow wild in the -water, and would be a sight anywhere.</p> - -<p>‘I want the boys also to take to intellectual games. I am much -pleased at having succeeded in making one nice lad compose two -Sunday enigmas. I by no means despise this small beginning of -authorship. Sunday enigmas greatly increase knowledge of Scripture, -and also help to make the holy day pass pleasantly. There is a great -deal of singing here also; and such a lovely text for our Chapel wall -is now almost ready.... Our dear lads cannot, as —— did, give a -beautiful pulpit, but I think that they take a pride and pleasure in -their Chapel.</p> - -<p>‘It will look rather pretty, I hope, with its white walls, and striped -pardahs of red and white, and the pretty blue ecclesiastical-looking -carpet which is promised for it. A <cite>Baptismal Register Book</cite> is ordered. -I want a large one! God grant that it may fill up rapidly. We shall -require a cemetery too, and have rather set our hearts on a pretty -mango tope<a name="FNanchor_80" id="FNanchor_80"></a><a href="#Footnote_80" class="fnanchor">[80]</a> at a suitable distance from, but not quite in sight of, -the house.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">‘Batala</span>; <i>my beloved Laura’s Birthday, May 20, 1878</i>.</p> - -<p>‘On this day of all days in the year I could not but write to my -own precious sister, even if I had not such a nice, long, interesting -letter to thank her for, as I received yesterday....</p> - -<p>‘Like you, I earnestly hope that the Almighty will preserve our -dear land from the fearful evil of war. You and I would scarcely -now care to sing—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“In the proud battle-fields</div> -<div class="verse">Bounding with glee.”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>‘How little realisation the juvenile writer had of what war is!...<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> -<em>We</em> are in another kind of warfare here. This living in the First -Century, instead of the Nineteenth, seems to give a more vivid colour -to life. I suspect that I should find some Missionary stations so -dull after one like this! Such as those where year after year passes -without an adult baptism being witnessed,—hardly expected,—perhaps -in some instances hardly <em>hoped</em> for!... The fact is that it -needs some moral courage in the Missionary, as well as all sorts of -courage in the Convert, to face the storm that may follow a baptism.</p> - -<p>‘One feels almost ashamed of remaining in such perfect security,<a name="FNanchor_81" id="FNanchor_81"></a><a href="#Footnote_81" class="fnanchor">[81]</a> -when encouraging a poor brown brother or sister to go up, as it -were, to the cannon’s mouth. I was thinking to-day what would be -the <em>most</em> painful sacrifice which one could make. It seemed to me -that of the <em>love and esteem of all our dear ones</em>. And that is just the -sacrifice which some of our brethren have to make! No wonder -that they hesitate, weep, shrink from the flood of sorrow before -them; but the true-hearted ones make the plunge at last. “The -love of Christ constraineth.”</p> - -<p>‘The enclosed to —— will give you an idea of some people’s trials; -but ever and anon new cases seem to crop up. I expect that our fair -Batala will be a kind of harbour of refuge to hunted ones. Mera -Bhatija has been telling me that a Missionary—I forget where—is -about to have a Baptism, and wants to send the new Christian over -to us for a week, to let the storm blow over a little. Another lad was -all packed ready to come, but he was caught. He means to take the -opportunity of escaping when he can....</p> - -<p>‘Mera Bhatija and I are curious to see the Rainbow glass. -Perhaps, if it be small, I may show it off in the Zenanas. New and -curious things give much pleasure. From a little round pin-cushion -of mine the pretty glass picture of a Cathedral came off. I often -take it with me, and show it, and say, “This is an English Church, -in which God is praised every day!” Mere prints do not take with -the Natives. They like coloured things that glitter.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. J. BOSWELL.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>May 21, 1878.</i></p> - -<p>‘It is wonderful to me how an English lady can go without fear or -danger all about Batala, meeting with so much respect and courtesy. -I do not feel it the slightest risk. Into narrow lanes, up dark staircases,—amongst -women, amongst men,—I go without the smallest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> -excuse for being alarmed. The people, too, generally listen very -quietly, though what is said may be dead against their views. I make -the slender concession of calling Muhammad “Mr. Muhammad”—“Muhammad -Sahib”—but no one could object to so common a -title. He is never called “Hasrat”—Saint—like Moses and David.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE SAME.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>May 29, 1878.</i></p> - -<p>‘Three new boys have arrived to-day. I am glad that they did -not come till I had pretty well learned up the first seventeen, tacking -the right names to the right faces. It took me a good while to do -this, for I have a difficulty in remembering faces....</p> - -<p>‘The Natives who send their boys to this upper-class school are of -course anxious that the lads should be good English scholars. At -this time of high-pressure education it is necessary that they should -be so. Mr. Baring drudges day after day at the English classes; -but it occurred to me that I could give a little help in play-hours. I -have written an English charade for our young Panjabis to recite; -and the idea has, I think, taken with them. It needed a little -management to give a separate part to every one of seventeen boys, -apportioning it to the individual’s capacity. Pretty little P. (five -years) could not be expected to manage more than a line and a half; -but it would never have done to have left him out. Into each of the -three divisions of the charade I have introduced a lively chorus, in -which all can join. The song that takes most is—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“I am a brisk and sprightly lad,</div> -<div class="verse">But newly come from sea, sir!”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>‘This is rather curious, as none of our Punjabis have ever seen -the sea. The chorus will be first-rate practice for rapid, clear pronunciation; -for</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“When the boatswain pipes ‘All hands aloft!’”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">would not be an easy line even for some English boys. If the lads -manage tolerably well, the charade will be great fun. Who would -ever have dreamt that part of a Missionary’s work should be to set -boys to learn a lively charade!</p> - -<p>‘I pity the City boys. I suspect that there is a sort of wistful -longing raised in many a young heart, “I wish I were one of those -Christian boys!” If there could be a blind ballot of Batala boys, as -to whether the whole town should become Christian, I am by no -means sure whether the votes would not be in our favour. I do not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> -mean that the poor, dear lads are <em>converts</em>, but that they use their -eyes and ears,—and think that ours must be a very pleasant, genial -kind of religion, connected in some sort of way with singing, and -cricket, and kindness.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Another short English play, written by Miss Tucker for -the boys, was called <cite>The Bee and the Butterfly</cite>. Miss -Mulvany, a Missionary, went one day, somewhere about -this time, to Batala for a few hours; and in the course of -her visit she was sent upstairs, while Charlotte Tucker -gave the boys a lesson in acting the said little play. Miss -Mulvany has never lost the impression made upon her by -the peals and shouts of laughter which came up from the -merry company below.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>June 19, 1878.</i></p> - -<p>‘I am reading the Granth,<a name="FNanchor_82" id="FNanchor_82"></a><a href="#Footnote_82" class="fnanchor">[82]</a> the sacred book of the Sikhs. Like the -Koran, it is very long,—I think more than 600 quarto pages,—and -with an immense deal of repetition in it. But it leaves on the mind -a very different impression from the Koran. As far as I have read, -it is wonderfully pure and spiritual. If you could substitute the -name “Almighty” for “Hari,” and “Lord Jesus” for “Guru,”<a name="FNanchor_83" id="FNanchor_83"></a><a href="#Footnote_83" class="fnanchor">[83]</a> it -might almost seem the composition of hermits in the early centuries, -except that celibacy is not enjoined. Woman seems to be given her -proper place. Many exhortations are addressed to women....</p> - -<p>‘There is something touching in the longing—the yearning—after -God,—the intense love of His Name! The Sikh idea of God is not -that of the Hindus, with their fiend-like deities. The Creator is -light, and goodness, and happiness. There is indeed the ridiculous -idea of people having to pass through 840,000 states of existence,—unless -the probation be shortened by meditation, purity, and the -repetition of God’s name,—but this fearful number of births is -regarded as very tiresome indeed.</p> - -<p>‘One might call the Granth “the book of yearning,” and I feel -humiliated that I, with Gospel light, should in spiritual contemplation -and longing for closest communion with the Deity come so far -behind these poor Sikhs. Unfortunately, the Sikh religion has -been so much corrupted that it is almost dying out. I suppose that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> -it was too pure to please the Enemy; he knew that the Granth would -offer no strong opposition to the Bible. Here, in Batala, his stronghold -seems to me to be Muhammadanism. It shocks me to find how -that invention of Satan darkens the moral sense. What would be -thought sin in another, is by some openly defended as no sin <em>if -committed by Muhammad</em>!!</p> - -<p>‘The Muhammadans too are so ready to stand up for their false -faith; far more inclined to defend it than the Hindus are to defend -theirs. Mera Bhatija was saying to-day that no book has been -written against Christianity by a Hindu. I have myself, however, -seen a very bitter article in a paper. But, generally speaking, the -Muhammadans seem to be much sterner opponents of Truth than the -Hindus. I feel it in the Zenanas.</p> - -<p>‘Now, my own Laura, I am going to my long task of reading the -Granth. It puts me on vantage-ground when I can tell the Natives -that I have read their Scriptures.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The High School was not to have broken up before the -middle of August; but circumstances caused Mr. Baring -to fix upon a fortnight earlier, and this decided Miss -Tucker to go to Amritsar on July 28. She at once -planned that two of the hard-worked ladies at the Mission -bungalow should then take their holiday, while she -remained as a companion to the third. It does not appear -that she had any idea of the Hills for herself. No doubt -the change to Amritsar would mean pleasure, if not rest; -and she was still able to speak of herself as ‘wonderfully -well’; but the unselfish thought for every one else, rather -than of her own needs, is not the less remarkable.</p> - -<p>To one of her correspondents she wrote from Batala on -the 6th of July: ‘You know that I am the only Englishwoman -within twenty miles. Now and then friends pass -a night here; but in the hot weather not often.... The -29th will, if I stay till then, complete sixteen weeks of -steady residence, during which I have only twice seen -English ladies,—for less than twenty-four hours. I doubt -whether any European has ever stopped in Batala so long -before without a single night’s absence.... Once from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> -Friday evening to Monday morning I saw no white face. -There is a nice brown lady in the house.’<a name="FNanchor_84" id="FNanchor_84"></a><a href="#Footnote_84" class="fnanchor">[84]</a></p> - -<p>At Amritsar she found herself as usual in the midst of -engrossing interests. Fresh Baptisms were taking place; -and about these she wrote to Mrs. Hamilton on the 21st -of August, describing one just past:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘There was a sweet-looking woman, D., a convert from Hinduism, -and her two dear little girls. Her husband, who is not brave -enough, or perhaps not sufficiently led towards Christianity, to -follow her example, saw her depart for church. “You know that she -is going to be baptized,” said Emily. “Yes, yes,” was the reply. -“You must be kind to her, and receive her back.” The man made -no objection,—even to his two children being baptized; though he had -formerly put obstacles in the way. There was a fourth, a convert from -Muhammadanism, T., whose baptism was the most interesting of -all.... The clergyman subjected the poor girl to the ordeal of a -severe examination. She had never probably spoken to an Englishman -before; and it would have been no wonder had she flinched or -faltered. But she, who has already been beaten at home for Christ’s -sake, showed no sign of weakness. Her answers came clear and -firm. “Is it because of Miss Wauton’s speaking that you come?” -“No, it is because of my heart’s speaking.”</p> - -<p>‘The miseries and persecutions that may be coming upon her -were almost, I think, <em>too</em> faithfully set before her. “If they were -even to kill me, as they did M.’s father, what fear?” said the dauntless -girl....</p> - -<p>‘I remarked to ——, on my return from the baptism, that I thought -that the Indian women were braver than the men. He quite agreed; -he knows that <em>he</em> dare not come forward like D. and T. Our noble -N. is, we believe, a Christian at heart, and we know other men -of whom we think that the same might be said, but they linger and -linger, and <em>dare</em> not yet ask for baptism. Here this year in Amritsar -we have had five women, and last year two, who, in the face of what -we might have considered almost insurmountable obstacles, have -bravely confessed Christ in baptism. It must be much harder for -them than for the men, but they seem to have more courage, or more -faith.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Several weeks later another reference in home-letters is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> -found to the brave girl, mentioned above: ‘By last -accounts dear T. is holding out nobly. We are not -allowed to see her; but I hear that one or more Maulvis<a name="FNanchor_85" id="FNanchor_85"></a><a href="#Footnote_85" class="fnanchor">[85]</a> -have been brought to try to argue the young maiden out -of her faith. But she tells them that they may read to -her all day long, but they never will change her. They -say that Christianity is ‘written on her heart,’—what a -testimony from Muhammadans!—and that the ladies must -have bewitched her. It reminds me of Lady Jane Grey -in prison; for dear T. <em>is</em> a prisoner.’</p> - -<p>Plans did not fit in as Miss Tucker had intended. -Once more she found herself called upon to act escort to -a sick Missionary, who had to go to the Hills, and was -not well enough to travel alone. Miss Wauton could not -just then be spared from Amritsar, and she appealed to -the ‘Auntie,’ whose readiness to help in any emergency -was by this time well understood. ‘It seems as if by -some fatality I must go each year to Dalhousie,’ Charlotte -Tucker said in one letter, adding, ‘But I hope to return -back in a few days.’ Then, in allusion to a scheme that -she should join her nephew at Murree in September, ‘I -do not propose staying long. After sixteen weeks of -unbroken residence at Batala, behold me rushing up and -down hills like a comet.’</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS L.V. TUCKER.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Aug. 14, 1878.</i></p> - -<p>‘We are to have a Confirmation here on the 3rd of November. I -should be much tempted to come up from Batala to witness it, -particularly if any Batala Christians are confirmed. I am afraid that ——‘s -wife will shrink from breaking pardah,—that nonsensical -pardah, which is a real snare to some baptized bibis.... There is -one dear baptized young bride in Batala, whom I have not seen, but -hope to search out on my return. The brave girl dared to be baptized -in Amritsar, but was then carried off by her husband to Batala, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> -we know not in what part she is. She is likely to be having a hard -time of it, but it is quite right in her to be with her husband....’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Writing home, she described drolly her absence from -Batala as—‘this strange episode of my life;—seven weeks -acting Superintendent of the Orphanage,—three of those -weeks sole Missionary at Amritsar,—and—oh, bathos! -ten days an ayah—for I had none other.’ Still her health -seemed to keep good. She could stand the plains in hot -weather as scarcely another Missionary was able to do. -While one and another broke down, and had to be off to -the Hills, Miss Tucker kept about, much the same as -usual, filling up as far as possible the gaps left by others.</p> - -<p>She was full of ardent sympathy at this time for certain -converts from Muhammadanism, undergoing severe persecutions, -and was much distressed at the difficulty of -doing anything for them. She even formed a daring plan -for carrying off one brave young girl from her relatives, -and taking her to a safe distance; and Miss Tucker was -with difficulty dissuaded from a scheme which others of -longer experience knew too well might lead to serious -complications.</p> - -<p>Another, a wife, and also her daughter, were at this -time in frequent peril, because they had become Christians -in heart, and were earnestly desiring Baptism. The -husband, a Muhammadan, would sometimes sit between -the two, sharpening a knife, and threatening to stab them. -Once he violently seized the daughter by her throat. Life -with them must have been one long unhappiness; yet -Miss Tucker, after an interview with the poor wife, could -describe her as looking ‘<em>worn</em>, but so bright and brave.’</p> - -<p>In September she was at Murree, helping to nurse her -niece, and to take care of the tiny baby,—which latter -occupation, she wrote, was ‘more formidable to an old -maiden Aunt than conversing in Urdu with a learned -Maulvi, or doing the agreeable to a Rajah, would be.’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span></p> - -<p>Of the place itself she said: ‘Murree is not a cheering -place to a Missionary.... One sees numbers of Natives; -but how is one to tell the glad tidings? I feel like a doctor -with multitudes of sick around him,—and he cannot get at -his medicine-chest. I have brought Urdu religious books; -I find no good opportunity of giving even one away.’</p> - -<p>October saw her once more in the spot where she loved -to be, writing joyously home—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘Here I am, in my own Station again, and glad to be back. I -find that our little Christian flock has been increasing in a very -encouraging way during my absence. There was a nice little -round of visits to pay to Christian families.<a name="FNanchor_86" id="FNanchor_86"></a><a href="#Footnote_86" class="fnanchor">[86]</a> Those who had been -last baptized I had never seen before to my knowledge. A man of -some forty or fifty years of age, employed in the Government ——, -who has been thinking on the subject of religion for about nine years. -For about two years he has been going to some quiet place, when he -had leisure, to weep and pray. He appears now to be a very earnest -and bold Christian. At his own desire he was baptized in the middle -of the city, in a room set apart in the school.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Very soon after Miss Tucker’s return came the death of -a little Christian Native baby; and the quiet Christian -funeral was in marked contrast with the wild wailings -usual at Muhammadan funerals,—though some Muhammadan -lamentings were heard from one visitor present.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘We decked the little sleeping form with flowers; a rose was -placed in each hand, a fragrant white Cross on the breast.... I -attended the funeral; so did a good band of Native Christians, -including our schoolboys. The cemetery was a Muhammadan one. -We must buy one for ourselves, as we are, thank God, a growing -body. I hope that in another month we may number fifty baptized -persons in Batala; and I have lately been writing out the heading -for a Subscription for a <em>Church</em> at our dear Batala. We have now -only schoolrooms turned into Chapels. My list is to lie on our table -for visitors to see. Perhaps it will be one or two years before we have -collected enough; and by that time, please God, the flock may have -doubled or quadrupled.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘It will be so—and more—if we go on at the rate at which the -Church has been growing. The bringing the Boys’ School here -has been a grand thing. The dear fellows, on the whole, set such a -nice example, and they seem so happy.</p> - -<p>‘<i>Nov. 4, 1878.</i>—I have come to Amritsar for a few days, for the -Confirmation, and had the pleasure of receiving your dear letter of -October 1st yesterday.... How can beloved St. George send me -such bad advice? I like his example better than his counsel. What -did <em>he</em> do in time of trouble? Stick to his post like a Tucker! -Those of our Missionary family, with whom I have spoken on the -subject,<a name="FNanchor_87" id="FNanchor_87"></a><a href="#Footnote_87" class="fnanchor">[87]</a> all agree with me that we should never desert our flocks. -What sort of army would that be, in which all the officers ran away -at sight of an enemy?... But take no thought about me, dear one. -Unless we meet with serious reverses in Afghanistan, I do not see -danger of a rising, especially in the Panjab, where, on the whole, -I think that we are considered tolerable rulers.</p> - -<p>‘And if there <em>were</em> troubles, I suspect that we Missionaries would -run a better chance than other Europeans, we have such numbers of -friends amongst the heathen.... Just fancy—our Bible-woman and -her husband are actually collecting money from Hindus and -Muhammadans for our Church! A poor woman gave some barley. -If you were to hear all the polite little speeches, and see all the -smiles that pass between Missionary and Natives, you would not -expect us to be afraid. A Missionary in any case should have -nothing to do with fear,—it is dishonouring to the Master.</p> - -<p>‘My love, how can you think of sending me another dress for -winter? Do you think me so careless and extravagant as to have -worn out the graceful Grey already? I never take it into a duli; I -keep my faithful Green for such rough work. But if a new winter -dress is actually in hand, let me send you even before seeing it a -thousand thanks for it.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">FROM AN INDIAN CHRISTIAN, CONVERT FROM MUHAMMADANISM, -1878</p> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">My dear Miss Tucker</span>,—I received your kind letter, dated -13th instant, and the newspaper yesterday. I am very thankful to -you. I read it many times, and it truly made me brave. I like the -piece of poetry you quoted very much. Every day I pray to God to -lead me in the right way. I think my prayer is heard, for I do not -feel so lonely as I did at first; but I get fever nearly every day. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> -had gone over to Lahore on Friday, and stayed there for Saturday -and Sunday.... I remember you in my prayers, and I hope you -do the same. Now I will not feel lonely. Please do not be -anxious....’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">C. M. T. TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p>‘<i>Nov. 8.</i>—If I were not a Mission Miss Sahiba, who should never -complain, I might give a groan or a grumble to the mice and rats. -They get into my almira, and what is even worse, into my harmonium. -I had a tin plate made for the pedal part, expressly to keep creatures -out; but they managed to pass it. I have now had a second large -one made, and hope that it may prove more effectual. The creatures -have bitten almost all the red Persian away; to-day I found lumps -of wadding in my harmonium. “How could they have come there?” -I asked of my sharp kahar, V. I suspected the rats, but did not -know where they could have got the wadding from,—when V. -suggested the beautiful padded cover of my harmonium. Sure -enough, the rogues had bitten holes in that, and pulled out wadding -to stuff into my harmonium, doubtless to make a comfortable nest -for a family of young mice or rats. I tried a Batala trap; it was of -no use: I have bought an Amritsar one, and Mera Bhatija has -bought another; but the rats, I fear, will not be much thinned in -numbers. We try to get a weasel, but have not succeeded yet. But -things might have been much worse. The rats never try to eat <em>us</em>!’</p> - -<p>‘<i>Nov. 14.</i>—I do not think that I told you of two Christian fakirs, -to whom I was introduced at Amritsar. They were very badly -clothed, fakir-like, but—especially one of them—had pleasing, -sensible faces. I suppose that they wander about, and lead a kind -of John the Baptist life. How curious such a style of Christian -would appear in old England!’</p> - -<p>‘<i>Nov. 20.</i>—I have been wanting—wanting—my English letters, -expecting them these four days. At last here they are, and such -nice dear ones....</p> - -<p>‘I shall much like to hear what you think of my sweet Margaret. -I doubt whether she will be in good looks, she has been so sorely -tried by her dear Mother’s illness, and the struggle in her own mind,—longing -to come to our help, yet unable to do so! I feel for her.</p> - -<p>‘I think that dear Emily benefited little or not at all by her trip -to the Hills. She <em>ought</em> to go home in the spring,—after more than -six years’ work,—so ought Miss Fuller; but neither can leave till -they fairly break down; for there is no one to take their place....</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘You think, love, that by September 4th “the most dangerous -season was over.” Far from it! September is, I think, the most -dangerous month in all the year in the Panjab. Very hot, and full -of fever. My hardest pull up-hill since I came to India was, I think, -in September. You have had the heat then for so long, you have -less vigour, and the air is so unwholesome. Sickness all around.</p> - -<p>‘How good you are to send me another dress! My graceful Grey -still looks very well. I consider it rather a company dress, and have -my Green for the Zenanas, which are sometimes <em>so</em> dirty! I am -wearing it now, for the weather is becoming very cold. It is rather -amusing to see our Panjabis come in for Morning Prayers, about -sunrise on a sharp morning. There is P. with a red comforter -round <em>head</em> and neck; J. is wrapped in his white blanket. Poor -Babu Singha, with a cold of course, is wondering how the big room -below is ever to be kept warm. Mera Bhatija and I are going to -change our drawing-room. The northern room is far the best in -summer; but in winter we escape to the southern, and what was our -guest-room becomes our sitting-room. There is actually a fireplace -in it!—and the sunbeams stream in....</p> - -<p>‘Instead of spending the long winter evenings in solitary grandeur -upstairs, I now come down and make one of the cheerful party in the -schoolroom. It is much less distracting to be amongst a score of -boys than you would suppose. I and some of them have been trying -the vitre-manie (?) for our Chapel-window. Yesterday I brought -down my chess-board and challenged the boys, and fought P., R., -and I. C., one after the other....</p> - -<p>‘On Sunday evening we sing hymns for ever so long together, -just like one huge family. The boys never seem to quarrel, or say -one spiteful word of each other. We have just had two new -boys; one is an Afghan; so we shall have the sons of Christian, -Muhammadan, Hindu, and Afghan, (by race,) parents all together.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Dec. 13, 1878.</i></p> - -<p>‘This evening as Mera Bhatija has gone to Amritsar, I asked -three of our lads to tea.... After tea I taught the lads “Cross -Questions and Crooked Answers,” and showed them my splendid -bubbles and my chatelaine, which were greatly admired, and my -photograph-book, a great treasure to me. But what gave perhaps -more amusement than anything was the Beaconsfield handkerchief. -I was so glad to get some photos at last.... My visits in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> -city were interesting. Dear B—n’s troubles have re-opened his -mother’s Zenana to me. She even paid me a visit here. I do not -see any inclination in her to become a Christian, however; she says -that I shall go to Heaven my way, and she hers. I suggested the -disagreeableness of 840,000 transmigrations; but she did not seem -troubled. Perhaps she hopes that she has passed through a few -hundreds of millions already.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p>‘<i>Dec. 23, 1878.</i>—“I shall go to rest to-night nestling under my -Laura’s love, and I shall rise very early to thank her,” was my -thought last night, as I got into my nice comfortable bed, with her -soft, light, warm quilt above me. And here I am sitting by my -blazing wood fire, long ere dawn, with that same quilt like a shawl -round my shoulders,—so comfy! Luxurious Char! But, after all, I -have not begun my thanks, and where am I to end them?</p> - -<p>‘Your wonderfully packed parcel reached me in perfect safety -yesterday. It was something like a nut, for it was rather difficult to -get at the kernel. So much careful stitching by dear fingers. At -last, however, the beautifully warm skirt and quilt, and most exquisite -cards, were fully displayed to view. A thousand, thousand thanks! -I have so <em>many</em> things, such goodly gifts, to remember my Laura -by!...</p> - -<p>‘Our Christmas festivities have already begun. Our house is -pretty full with Native friends. Perhaps the most interesting is -dear B., the once Muhammadan wife of a Christian Catechist, and -mother of Christian children, who was so sturdily bigoted that she -held out for thirteen years, before she would give herself to the -Saviour. But then she did so in her honest way. B. was never -a hypocrite; we respected her when she vexed us. It was something -for her to remain with her husband; for, by Muhammadan law, -baptism of husband or wife constitutes divorce. Mera Bhatija told -me of a curious case, which excited much interest,—to Europeans it -would excite much surprise. A Muhammadan, who had, I suppose, -read Christian books, was travelling with some other Muhammadans, -and was imprudent enough to say that Muhammad wrought no -miracles, and expressed doubts as to his being really a prophet. -The poor man happened to have a rich wife, who, we may believe, -did not care for him. To <em>speak against</em> the Prophet is enough to -constitute a divorce! The companions of the man did not let their -chance go of half ruining him. The case was brought into Court,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> -and an English judge was obliged to give a verdict against the -unfortunate fellow, who had expressed an honest opinion. He lost -his wife and her rich dowry....’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Amritsar</span>, <i>Dec. 28, 1878</i>.—I am sitting with my sweet Laura’s -delicious quilt wrapped closely round my shoulders, for it is warmer -than a shawl; and I am up before the fire-lighting period. Not -being at home, I do not know how to light the fire myself.</p> - -<p>‘Our Christmas at Batala went off beautifully, and has, I think, left -a feeling of thankfulness on both Mera Bhatija’s mind and my own. -The following day we both came to Amritsar. Yesterday was the -grand opening of the Alexandra School. Mr. Clark asked me to -write an account of it for his report. I did not like the task; it -makes one feel so penny-a-linerish; and one is afraid of writing to -please this or that person, etc.; but I could not well refuse, so I have -been scribbling something in pencil in the cold, which I mean to -submit to dear Emily’s criticism....</p> - -<p>‘Oh, I must tell you what a boon your Beaconsfield handkerchief is! -It gave much amusement at Batala, both to Europeans and Natives; -it is giving much here at Amritsar. I am engaged to dine with the -Clarks this evening; so I dare say that the good Bishop, Archdeacon, -and all will have a laugh over my puzzle. On Monday I am to go to -Lahore, and sleep a night at Government House. I mean to take -my handkerchief with me....</p> - -<p>‘Batala will present rather a contrast to bustling Amritsar and -Lahore. When I return, there will probably be no European but -myself there for days, as Mera Bhatija must be absent at the -Conference till the 6th.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>So ended the third year of Miss Tucker’s life in India. -She had now thoroughly settled down to her own especial -work in Batala.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="II_CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1878-1879<br /> -EARLY CHRISTIAN DAYS IN THE 19TH CENTURY</span></h3> - -<p>It is clear that Charlotte Tucker was profoundly impressed -with the sense of living, as she said, in the First -Century, instead of the Nineteenth. In another letter, -soon to be quoted, she describes her Batala experience as -‘being carried back to the days of the Apostles.’</p> - -<p>For in Batala the complex conditions of modern life, -the intricacies of Nineteenth Century Christianity, were -absent. Here in England it is more or less the correct -thing to be in some measure religious, to be at least -nominally a Christian. People are on the whole expected -to go to Church,—or, if Dissenters, just as much to -go to Chapel,—and though the going to Church, as a -matter of course, does not at all indicate the lack of -deeper reasons, of purer motives underlying, it does make -the going a very easy matter. So, also, a mother takes -her little one to Church for Baptism, again almost as a -matter of course; often indeed with heartfelt prayer and -longing, but with no question of danger involved in the act. -It is a perfectly simple thing to do. More attention would -in fact be drawn by <em>not</em> doing it than by doing it.</p> - -<p>At Batala, as in thousands of other Heathen and -Muhammadan cities, things are widely different. Sharp -lines of demarcation are drawn between the Christian -and the non-Christian,—between the Church and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> -heathen world around. It was so most markedly when -Charlotte Tucker lived in Batala. There, as in Early -Christian days, was the great mass of those who neither -knew nor cared for the Names of God and Christ; and in -their midst was the Infant Church, a tiny body of brave -men and women, who had come out from amongst the -Heathen and Muhammadans, to be known as the servants -of Christ.<a name="FNanchor_88" id="FNanchor_88"></a><a href="#Footnote_88" class="fnanchor">[88]</a></p> - -<p>And the step which led from the one to the other stood -clear and defined, with no possibility of a mistake. The -marching-orders which our Lord and Master issued were -not <em>only</em> to go forth and teach. Here is the fuller -version: ‘Go ye therefore, and teach’ (<cite>Rev. Ver.</cite> ‘make -disciples of’) ‘all nations, <span class="smcap">baptizing them in the Name -of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy -Ghost</span>; teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I -have commanded you.’</p> - -<p>That was the great order given; that was the -command which had to be obeyed, whether at Batala or -elsewhere. And however easy a matter Baptism in -England may be, it is no easy matter in the Panjab for -Converts from Heathenism or from Muhammadanism. -It is a step of overwhelming importance. It means leaving -the world of idolatry, ignorance, superstition, behind, -and entering the Church of Christ. It also means too -often leaving all things earthly that have most been loved. -It means persecution, beating, cruelty, hard words and -harsher deeds. It means wives separated from husbands, -mothers separated from children, loss of money, loss of the -means of livelihood, danger not seldom to life itself. It is -the passing of the Rubicon.</p> - -<p>Again, in that Infant Church at Batala,—or, one may -equally say, in the Church at Amritsar, and throughout -the Panjab,—we find reproduced the various elements<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> -which existed in Early Church days. There are strong -Christians and weak Christians; there are whole-hearted -ones and wavering ones; there are the true and the false. -What wonder?—when the very foundation-stones of the -Church of Christ included a Judas. Wheat and tares will -grow together until the end; and bad fish as well as good -will be caught in the net. The Church planted in a new -place is seldom long without her Demas, who loves this -present heathen world, and goes back to it again.</p> - -<p>But for one who is unfaithful, for one who turns his -back upon the Light, after seeming to be indeed a Convert, -there are many who stand firm, persevering to the end, -despite difficulties, discouragements, and bitter oppositions. -These brave brown brothers and sisters of ours, who are -still in the fires of persecution, from which England has -been so long delivered, deserve our warmest sympathy.</p> - -<p>In giving the story of Charlotte Tucker, and of the -growth of the Church at Batala, with which she was so -intimately associated, it is of very real importance to show -frankly both sides of the picture,—the dark side, as -well as the bright; the cloudy as well as the sunshiny. -There were of course disappointments as well as encouragements. -There were goings backward as well as -pressings forward. Missionary life is no more one of -unbroken success, even at its best, than any other kind of -hard-working life, with a high aim before it; and to -present it as such, by omitting to describe failure side by -side with success, would—and often does—produce only a -sense of unreality. The story of the Church throughout -the ages has always been a chequered tale.</p> - -<p>Hard as Miss Tucker toiled, she had not the delight of -seeing many individuals won to Christianity through her -own efforts. Results of what she did, still more of what -she was, were visible enough to others,—but rather in the -shape of a general and widespread influence than in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> -shape of conversions directly due to her labours. The -worth of any work can never be truly gauged by the -amount of success which may appear to follow within -a given time; and to measure the extent or the effects of -her loving influence, alike among younger Missionaries -and among Indian Christians, especially among the boys -in the Baring High School, is utterly impossible.</p> - -<p>No less impossible is it to measure the results of her -years of toilsome work in Zenanas. Some here are disposed -to assert freely that she accomplished very little. -One Native Christian, sending a few slight memoranda, -goes so far as to say: ‘I feel sorry to have to add that -she signally failed as a Missionary, if by that term is -meant the preaching of the Gospel to the heathen of -India.’ A very great deal more than mere preaching is, -of course, meant by the term; but in any case this would -be a most rash judgment for any man to venture to pass, -were he English or Indian. No <em>man</em> could have entrance -into the scores upon scores of Zenanas which she visited, -to test for himself the effects of her work; and we all -know what hearsay evidence is worth. Even if he could -find entrance, he would have no Divine power to see into -the hearts of the people there. The fact that she herself -saw few results says nothing; for the best results are -often slowest in appearing. Judging from apparent results -is always a defective and a shallow proceeding.</p> - -<p>From beginning to end she never so far conquered the -languages of North India as to speak them with ease. -Grammar and construction she might and did to a considerable -extent master, but colloquial fluency was not -in her case attainable. Still, though she never became -actually fluent, it is a matter of unquestionable fact that -she did both understand and make herself understood, -despite occasional verbal mistakes. There are testimonies -from all sides which abundantly prove this.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span></p> - -<p>Her mode of working in Zenanas was peculiar to herself; -and though she always held to it, she did not put it -forward as a model for every one else to imitate. She -made no attempt at systematic instruction, probably -feeling her knowledge of the languages unequal to the -task; and this in itself was a drawback. ‘In point of -fact,’ as one says who was associated with her, ‘she never -considered herself as a teacher, but rather, like St. John the -Baptist, as a “voice crying in the wilderness.” Her visits -were almost always short,’—though to this rule there were -evidently exceptions,—‘she seems to have gone in, greeted -the people, given her message, and taken courteous leave. -She always deprecated any attempt to judge of her work -by the number of Zenanas on her visiting list; and indeed -it would not be fair to do so, as she did not undertake -regular teaching in them.’</p> - -<p>Zenana-visiting was only one portion of her work; -regarded by herself as the more important portion, but not -necessarily the more important because she thought so. -We ourselves are poor judges of the comparative worth -of the different things which we have to do. She was -also a warm and true friend to the Indian Christians, -entering into their trials and difficulties, throwing herself -into their interests, doing her utmost to help them onward, -to lift them upward. In this direction she had a remarkable -degree of influence; and in her intercourse with them -she was absolutely without pride, she was full of kindliness, -consideration, and affection.</p> - -<p>With the schoolboys, as already seen, she was in her -element. The old spirit of fun, the old devotion to games, -were invaluable here; neither having faded with increasing -age. One of her dharm-nephews, Dr. Weitbrecht, writing -about the High School in Batala, says:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘From this time for years to come Miss Tucker was a mainstay of -the Boys’ Boarding School, teaching the elder boys the English<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> -language and history, taking a motherly interest in all their pursuits, -writing for them Batala School songs, inviting them in the evenings -to little social entertainments, enlivened by parlour games; visiting -the sick, comforting the home-sick new boy; mothering the young -convert, who had been sent to Batala not less for spiritual shelter -than for instruction; and upholding the hands of workers in the -School and Mission generally; besides carrying on without fail her -regular visits to the town and villages, and her literary work for -publication, both in England and India.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>One of the former schoolboys, now a Native surgeon in -India, Dr. I. U. Nasir, writes on the same subject:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘Her good influence on the young minds cannot be overrated. -Her Bible Classes were eagerly looked for and well attended,—it -may be, for the sake of lozenges and bits of cake which she distributed -at the end, but also for the interest she made everybody feel -in the meeting. She would begin by asking the verse and subject of -the morning sermon, and the various points of interest worth remembering. -This led to the habit of closely attending to the sermon.... -Then every one had a choice of a hymn to be practised for the -evening services of the week; a short verse of the Bible was repeated; -and Sunday enigmas from the Bible were solved.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>And also with reference to social week-day evenings:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘She amused us with stories, comic songs, historical anecdotes, -making anagrams, giving riddles to be solved, and several amusements -of the kind. Many an evening was spent in Miss Tucker’s -drawing-room, playing various indoor games, of which chess and -word-making and word-taking were her favourites. In the latter -game she would consider it a great triumph to have made such long -words as “Jerusalem artichoke.” But she took particular delight in -showing her old scrap-album to any one who desired to see it. Many -an interesting incident was dropped in connection with her relatives, -as she turned leaf after leaf with her old slender fingers. She never -got tired of this. Then she would select good scenes from Shakespeare, -whom she called “The Poet of Conscience,” and give us -lessons in recitation and acting.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Charlotte Tucker had a profound belief in the good -<em>moral</em> influence of Shakespeare. She is said to have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> -greatly wished that the Indians could have the benefit -of Shakespeare translated into their Native languages.</p> - -<p>In addition to the Baring School boys, she had a -never-failing interest in the lads of the Mission Plough -School, started mainly by herself, and afterwards endowed -by her with the sum of £50 a year. She constantly -visited there, and taught the scholars, knowing many of -the older boys by name, and asking them from time to -time to pay her Sunday afternoon visits.</p> - -<p>Moreover, outside all these occupations, A. L. O. E. was -still an Author. For some years, indeed, after her arrival -in India she wrote for India only, and not especially for -England. When, however, it became gradually clear -that books suitable for Indian readers were not adapted -for England, she found time to accomplish separate -volumes for home publication. Some would say that her -writings for the Native population of Hindustan are by -far the most important part of her whole Missionary work. -By her pen she could reach thousands, even tens of -thousands, where by her voice she could reach at most -only dozens. Her tiny Indian booklets, published by -the Christian Literature Society at very low prices, -are among the most widely selling of the Society’s productions.</p> - -<p>It was only by an exceedingly systematic mode of life -and endless toil that Miss Tucker could get through what -she did. She was always up very early,—at 6 <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span> in -winter, at 4½ or 5 <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span> in summer,—and her day was -carefully apportioned out. Six weeks’ holiday in the year -was permitted by the Society under which she worked, -and she would seldom take more than a month of this in -the hottest weather, that she might be able to get away -for a few days at some other time, without infringing on -her full ten months and a half of work. Often part of her -so-called holiday was spent in looking after or in acting as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> -companion to somebody else,—or in undertaking work -during the absence of other Missionaries from their posts. -The marvel is, not that after a few years she should have -grown to look older than she was, but that her health -could in any degree have stood so great and constant a -strain. Few people in the prime of life could have done -and endured what she did and endured in the evening of -her days.</p> - -<p>Very early after her arrival in India, as stated in a -previous chapter, the Natives seemed disposed to credit -Miss Tucker with an astonishing number of years; but -too much must not be thought of this. It arose from -the fact that a grey-haired English lady out there is a -complete <i lang="la">rara avis</i>—a sight seldom to be seen. Miss -Wauton’s first impressions of her, jotted down as follows, -do not give the impression of a very old lady, dearly as -Charlotte Tucker loved to describe herself in those terms: -‘Tall, slight, with lofty brow, sparkling eye, face constantly -beaming with love and intelligence; genius in -every look; figure frail and fairy-like, agile and graceful; -very brisk movements and light tread.’ Hardly like a -hundred years old! After a few years had passed she did -no doubt age rapidly.</p> - -<p>Mention has several times been made of Miss Tucker’s -readiness to give; and when one recalls the abounding -generosity of her father, not to speak of the story of -her grandmother on the Boswell side giving away to a -beggar the last coin in the house, one can hardly be -surprised at the generous tendencies of Charlotte Tucker’s -character. She had the gift of liberality by inheritance; -and she cultivated her gift as a matter of principle. Giving -was at all times a real delight to her. A quotation on -this subject from Mr. Beutel may well come in here:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘Miss Tucker was always very liberal. Wheresoever there was -need or distress that she heard of, she gave substantial help<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> -immediately. I well remember, for instance, after I had taken over -charge of the Boys’ Orphanage, one time there were between thirty -and forty boys to be fed and clothed, and no money left in hand. As -soon as Miss Tucker heard of it, she immediately sent me £10; and -I must confess such a blessing rested on that money, that I never -came into similar straits during the twelve years that I had charge of -the Boys’ Orphanage.</p> - -<p>‘And again, before we settled at Clarkabad, there was a great -scarcity of grain, in consequence of the failure of crops among the -Zamindars. They had very little to eat, and no seed-corn to sow. -All wanted some help, and I had no money in hand.... When Miss -Tucker heard of it, immediately she sent us Rs.300; and our -greatest need was at an end.</p> - -<p>‘Again, in 1889, when a dear friend of mine, Pastor and Teacher -in the United States of North America, with whom I had come -out to India in 1869, had decided to return to India as a Missionary, -in order to join and to help me in the multifarious work at -Clarkabad, and he found that the money in hand was insufficient to -pay for his and his family’s voyage from Germany, and Miss Tucker -heard of it, she immediately sent me £100, with the direction to forward -that sum to him, on condition that he had not left Germany -again for America. This, however, had already taken place in the -meantime, and the money was returned to her.</p> - -<p>‘Again, in 1892, after we had returned to Kotgur, where there was -a great scarcity in the district, and many poor people had hardly one -meal a day to eat, and Miss Tucker heard that I gave relief work to -some forty or fifty people, she sent me another Rs.100.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>These are merely a few among innumerable instances -which might be quoted; though generally the gifts were -so quietly bestowed that few or none except the recipient -knew about the matter. It was not, however, only in -money that she was generous. The very necessaries sent -for her own use, the very clothes sent for her own -wear, would be given freely away to the first person -who seemed in need of them. Mrs. Hamilton, learning -something of this, at one time tried in despair calling her -gifts ‘loans,’ in the hope that they might be thus secured -for Charlotte Tucker’s own benefit. In later years, when -a parcel arrived from England, Miss Tucker would sometimes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> -not allow her Missionary companions to see what it -contained, that she might feel more free to give away as -she felt disposed.</p> - -<p>The Rev. Robert Clark speaks of Miss Tucker as ‘an -English Christian Faqir,’—a curious use of the term, -which he applies also to one or two other Missionaries. -The original idea of ‘Christian Faqirs,’ sometimes -referred to in Miss Tucker’s own letters, was of Native -Faqirs, who, on becoming Christians, kept still to their -old mode of life, going about as before, teaching Christianity -instead of false religions, and not begging any -longer, but receiving a small sum for their support from -Englishmen. Mr. Clark, in speaking of A. L. O. E., -doubtless uses the word in reference to her peculiar mode -of entering into Indian ways, Indian customs, Indian -thoughts,—as, for instance, sitting on the floor among -them, instead of on a chair, travelling in an ekka like -them, and so far as she was able living their life,—as -well as to the rigid simplicity and self-denial which she -cultivated.</p> - -<p>After alluding to the manner of her earlier English life, -and contrasting it with the manner of her existence at -Batala, where ‘two chairs were placed on two sides of a -table in a large and almost unfurnished room,’ Mr. Clark -continues: ‘Miss Tucker ate very little. She always told -us to tell her beforehand if we were going to see her, in -order that she might have something to place before us. -There was then no railway; and everything had to be -brought from Amritsar once or twice a week. The bread -often became <em>very</em> hard. She sometimes said, “Do try this -piece; it seems a little softer.” Her guests were thinking -all the time of her tender gums, and of her teeth which -were no longer young.’</p> - -<p>On first going to Batala Charlotte Tucker had had the -idea in her mind of inaugurating there a sort of ‘Zenana’<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> -of maiden Missionary ladies,—a close retreat, from which -the foot of Man should be utterly and always excluded. -Probably this was part of her desire to imitate the ways -of Natives. Some judicious combating was needed to -break her loose from it; though when once a gentleman-Missionary -had actually arrived, theories went down before -the spirit of hospitality.</p> - -<p>Once again it should be noted, that when in her letters -she writes home enthusiastically about all her comforts -and luxuries, these descriptions must be taken <i lang="la">cum grano -salis</i>. She had not the slightest intention of misleading -anybody; but she was very anxious to put a brave -face on the matter; moreover, she was a Missionary Miss -Sahiba, and she might not grumble. Everything was for -her right just as it was. But another side to the question -did exist.</p> - -<p>In the year 1879 Mrs. Elmslie, being at home, paid a -visit to Mrs. Hamilton; and one day she could not help -remarking, ‘When I see how comfortable you are here, -and think of your sister, it makes me sad.’ Her tone was -almost reproachful; for she was mentally comparing -A. L. O. E.’s barely furnished rooms with the abundance -of comforts in this home. Evidently she thought Miss -Tucker badly off, and wondered why her friends did not -assist her more. Explanations naturally followed; and -when she learnt the true state of the case, when she heard -the amount of Charlotte Tucker’s comfortable little income, -she was astonished. The manner of life steadily followed -out was, in fact, no matter of necessity, but purely a -matter of principle. Miss Tucker counted a life of rigid -simplicity worthier her vocation as a Missionary than -one of greater ease could have been. She therefore kept -to a certain sum of money yearly for her own expenses, -while giving much away in addition; she made her clothes -last as long as it was possible for them to hold together;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> -she had hardly any furniture in her rooms; and she refused -all luxuries, including some things which in India are -commonly reckoned <em>not</em> luxuries, but absolute necessaries.</p> - -<p>The following particulars have been kindly supplied to -me by Miss Wauton and others.</p> - -<p>Her style of living, at all times extremely simple, was -particularly so at the time that she shared a home with -Mr. Baring. She scarcely, indeed, allowed herself even the -most ordinary comforts. Her bedroom furniture consisted -of a native bedstead, a small table, a wardrobe and two -chairs, with a piece of thin matting on the floor, and -one or two thin ‘durries.’<a name="FNanchor_89" id="FNanchor_89"></a><a href="#Footnote_89" class="fnanchor">[89]</a> Always an early riser, Miss -Tucker never liked her Ayah to find her still in bed. -When she first got up, she used to heat a cup of cocoa -with her little etna, for her ‘chhoti hazari.’<a name="FNanchor_90" id="FNanchor_90"></a><a href="#Footnote_90" class="fnanchor">[90]</a> Miss Tucker -always disliked very much being waited on, and preferred -to do things for herself. She treated the servants very -courteously, always addressing the Ayah as ‘Bibi ji’; and -any little thing offered to her at table was accepted with -a ‘Thank you,’ or declined with a ‘No, thank you,’ spoken -in English, as there is in Hindustani no equivalent for the -expression of gratitude.</p> - -<p>Together with her marvellous activity of mind and of -body was seen a wonderful amount of patience under -suffering or discomfort. In the very hot weather she -would say to her companions, ‘Let me be the first to complain -of the heat’;—and of course she never did complain. -She used to ascribe her good health in Batala to the -absence there of three things, generally counted indispensable -by Europeans in India. She had, first, no <em>doctor</em>; -she had, second, no <em>gari</em>; she had, third, no <em>ice</em>. The want -of the latter must have been a serious deprivation. The -lack of a gari, or carriage, was supplied by her duli, by the -native ekka, and by her own walking-powers. As for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> -doctors,—she had, when ill, to go to them, like other -people, and to be grateful for their help. Doctors were -not, however, favourites with A. L. O. E. She was perhaps -a little hard upon them; since, on the one hand, she -professed not to trust their skill; and on the other hand, -she looked upon them as rather cruel than kind, in trying -to keep her longer upon Earth, away from the Home -where she wished to be.</p> - -<p>Miss Wauton says:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘All she had was put at the disposal of others. Every book -sent out was lent round to the different Mission circles, or in any -place where it might give pleasure or profit. She always had some -interesting book on hand, and kept her mind richly stored with -knowledge, being specially fond of history. She allowed me once -to be present when giving an English History lesson to a class of -Baring High School boys. I could have wished myself one of them, -to have had such teaching constantly! She was very independent of -intercourse with other minds, yet thoroughly enjoyed social pleasures. -I never saw any one so carry out the precept—“Rejoice with them that -do rejoice.” Nowhere did she seem so much at home as at the -wedding-feast; and no wedding-party seemed complete without her.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>But though she could be the life and soul of a wedding -feast—perhaps especially of a Native wedding feast,—Miss -Tucker was not in all cases an advocate of marriage. The -Rev. Robert Clark speaks of her as—‘jealous of the -marriage of any of our Lady Missionaries, especially to -those gentlemen who were, as she said, “outside of the -family.”’ He adds: ‘In her verses on the duties and -qualifications of ladies for Missionary work in India, the -last couplet was, I think, as follows:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">“The Mission Miss Sahiba must single remain,</div> -<div class="verse">Or else she’ll step out of her proper domain.”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>A friend who married one of our Missionary ladies, and -who was nominally outside the Mission family, but who -was and still is one of us, added the words—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">“And never will be a Miss Sahiba again!”’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span></p> - -<p>This quotation from Mr. Clark lands us in another subject, -and one of no small importance. Charlotte Tucker, -going as she did to India when well on in middle life, -looked upon herself as a possible Pioneer, a possible -example to others, and hoped that many more might be -led to do the same. But she was never under the delusion -that anybody and everybody is fitted for a Missionary -life,—even granting the spiritual adaptedness. There must -be of course whole-hearted devotion to Christ, whole-hearted -love to man, and whole-hearted self-abnegation; -but there must also be certain natural capabilities, certain -conditions of health and vigour. Beyond all, there must -be the Divine call to work in the Mission-fields. All this -Charlotte Tucker felt with increasing earnestness as years -went on; and she was often at pains to explain the kind -of workers wanted out there, to warn against the kind of -workers <em>not</em> wanted.</p> - -<p>Before giving extracts from the correspondence of 1879, -two or three quotations of different dates shall be given -on this subject, beginning with a letter written to a lady -who had thoughts of offering herself:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>Dec. 3, 1878</i>.</p> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">My dear Madam</span>,—Hearing that you have some idea of giving -yourself to Mission work in India, I think that you may like to hear -the impressions of one who—after dear ones no longer required her -care—gave herself to that work.</p> - -<p>‘I have now been for three years in India, and I have never for -one minute regretted coming. I do sometimes feel that there is need -of patience; one has a number of petty inconveniences and annoyances, -from which we are guarded in England. Whoever comes out -as a Missionary should pray for a brave, patient, cheerful spirit, and a -submissive will. But if these be granted, I should say that the -Missionary life is a very happy one.</p> - -<p>‘There is a great charm in being carried back to the days of the -Apostles; for in an isolated station, like Batala or Kulu, there is much -to remind one of the First Century. Then there is joy in the hope -that one is putting out the intrusted talents—be they few or many—to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> -the best interest. One’s time, one’s money, one’s efforts, seem to -go further here. I have often thought, “India is the place to make -the One talent—Ten.” The work is so very great, the labourers so few!</p> - -<p>‘There is another thing which has intensely sweetened my -Missionary life. It is finding myself a member of the Missionary -Family. It has been said that there are no friendships like those -made in youth. It has not been <em>my</em> experience. I have no dearer -friendships than those made in advanced years. God has given me -a number of new Relatives (I call them dharm nephews and nieces), -and the tie is as real as that made by blood-relationship....</p> - -<p>‘In coming out as a Missionary, one has to devote oneself to duties -which are sometimes what would be called drudgery, and leave the -care of one’s happiness to the Divine Master, whom we attempt to -serve. He takes far better care of our happiness than we can.</p> - -<p>‘Allow me, dear Madam, to add another word. If you come out, -you should start <em>soon</em>, to avoid the heat of the Red Sea. As regards -outfit, you would find a tin-bath, in a basket-case, to be used in -travelling as a trunk, a great comfort here. It is well to bring out a -few pictures and pretty things; and, if you are musical, your -instrument. Medicines are very useful. Warm clothes are requisite, -as well as light ones. Cotton gloves are a comfort in the season when -kid shrivels and dries.</p> - -<p>‘Not without a hope that I may one day welcome you as a Sister-worker, -I remain, dear Madam, yours very sincerely,</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">C. M. Tucker</span>.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>In a paper written some few years later by A. L. O. E., -containing a list of things needed to make a good and -serviceable Missionary, the following are enumerated—as -usual, symbolically expressed:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘We need not dwell on the necessity of Faith and Love, which may -be represented as Gold. To start without these would be presumption -worse than folly.... And so with the only less valuable metal, Silver—Knowledge. -It is self-evident that such is required....</p> - -<p>‘And a great deal of Steel is needed ... some physical, and, -above all, <em>moral</em> Courage is required. Nervous weakness of character -is undesirable at home; it would be a grievous misfortune in India.... -A Missionary should claim the Christian’s privilege of fearing -no evil....</p> - -<p>‘The old saying is, <em>Nothing like leather</em>.... What I would symbolise -by Leather is a capacity for encountering <em>drudgery</em>, something that -will bear the strain of daily and often monotonous work.... Give us<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> -tough leather, such as harness and straps are made of; no romantic -sentimentality, but steady, resolute Perseverance.</p> - -<p>‘Another useful article is a <em>Letter-weigher</em>, by which I would -represent Sound Judgment.... There is special experience required -for work in a foreign land. It has often occurred to my mind what a -blessing in disguise it is that Missionaries have to toil to acquire a -new language; such delay giving them time to learn something of -Native character, manners, and ideas. If language came by intuition, -we should make many more blunders in other things than we do now; -and such blunders are numerous enough already....</p> - -<p>‘Another necessary must not be forgotten—a <em>White-covered -Umbrella</em>, representing Prudence regarding health. The white cover -is specially mentioned, symbolising the pure desire to economise -health for the sake of God’s cause, without which mere prudence -would be of very minor value....</p> - -<p>‘Only one more necessary I would mention, and it may provoke a -smile: Be sure to bring a box of <em>Salve</em>, and not a very small one -either. When maidens of different antecedents, rank, age, temperament, -and—in minor matters—opinions, are brought together in -closest proximity, in a climate which tries the temper, there is at -least a possibility of some slight rubs, which without the soothing -ointment brought by the Peacemaker may even develop into sores.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO —— ——</p> - -<p class="right"><i>‘Feb. 19, 1879.</i></p> - -<p>‘I hope that good Miss —— will <em>not</em> leave her present field of -great usefulness for India. It is a sad mistake for those with her -delicacy of head to come out to the Panjab. “Panjab heads” are -proverbial. Our band is too small for any to be told off as nurses. -Very delicate workers should not come out to this trying climate. -For those whose constitutions are fitted for it, the Panjab is a glorious -field. It is a place where the one talent may become ten. All sorts -of gifts come into use; aptitude in buying and selling; engineering -skill; love of music; a mechanical turn, etc., may be turned to -such valuable account.</p> - -<p>‘It is <em>not</em> a mere matter of preaching to the heathen. An Infant -Church has to be built up; openings are to be made for converts, -that they may earn their bread; churches have to be raised with small -funds and no architects, etc. A man who can carpenter, garden, or -put in panes of glass, may find his knowledge most useful. A bold -rider, a good shot, is at an advantage here.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘Missionary life is not just like what one fancies it in England. -We do not want bookworms so much as active, intelligent, devoted -men, who can turn their hands to anything, and who, in addition to -Missionary zeal, have plenty of <em>common sense</em>. God grant that -Cambridge may send us many such! Mr. —— is one; a very -valuable man, though not gifted with eloquence, nor quick at learning -languages. He has a clear sound judgment, and a power of adapting -himself to varying circumstances, and of undergoing drudgery.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right"><i>‘March 24, 1879.</i></p> - -<p>‘No, my dearest Leila, I could not in conscience urge poor dear -—— to come out here. It would be cruel. Any one who in England -suffers from headache, liver, back, and uneven spirits, I would rather -entreat to avoid the Panjab.... She would be one of the choice -delicate palfreys, yoked to artillery, who break down and give extra -work to the already fully-taxed horses. If you only knew what the -illnesses of those <em>who ought never to have come out</em> have cost others -as well as themselves!... The Lord does not call <em>all</em> His children -to India. There ought to be a certain fitness of constitution to dwell -in a fever-land. I am so thankful that I am not constitutionally -liable to headache, and that fever does not naturally cling to me. -But I walk warily, as one in an enemy’s country.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO W. F. T. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>May 20</i> (<i>probably 1879</i>).</p> - -<p>‘Your dear Mother sends me delightful accounts of the devotion of -some of the Cambridge men, and their readiness to engage in -Missionary work, if they saw the way clear. Now, dearest Fred, -could there be a clearer opening than at Batala for an earnest -Christian man, whether in Orders or not? I am not thinking of you, -for I would not have any one subject to headaches come to this -feverish land; but I am thinking of your brother collegians. Batala, -for evangelisation, is a very central point; no end of work might be -done; and it is a hopeful place....</p> - -<p>‘But I will be more minute in particulars.... I am not writing -of one who wishes to become one of the regular salaried Missionaries -of our Society; but of one who has the means to be an Honorary -worker. Say he has an income of £100. He would find at Batala -a <em>home</em>,—not a very luxurious one, but quite enough so for a -Missionary. His £100 would be enough for all his personal wants,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> -unless he travelled much; and he might keep a little horse, unless, -like ——, he preferred spending his extra rupees on something else. -He could at once help with English classes, if he chose to do so, -and in the meantime learn the language.... If he had a taste for -shooting and fishing, he would find means of gratifying it; and if he -were a good cricketer, it would add to his influence over our boys. If -he had any architectural skill, he would help us to build our church. -If he were musical, it would be a great advantage. He might lead a -very happy life, and an exceedingly useful one. We are in such -want of <em>men</em>; not mere bookworms, but earnest, devoted, bright, -active Christians, who can turn their hands to everything, and help -to mould the minds of our rising generation. We want more St. -Pauls!’</p> - -</div> - -<p>This chapter can hardly be better closed than by -quoting Miss Tucker’s descriptive lines as to the necessary -qualifications for a ‘Mission Miss Sahiba,’ already alluded -to. They were written at Amritsar, as early as the year -1876:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p class="center">RULES AND REGULATIONS</p> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘The Mission Miss Sahibas must never complain;</div> -<div class="verse">The Mission Miss Sahibas must temper restrain—</div> -<div class="verse">When “sust”<a name="FNanchor_91" id="FNanchor_91"></a><a href="#Footnote_91" class="fnanchor">[91]</a> pankah-wala won’t pull at the cane;</div> -<div class="verse">Must never be fanciful, foolish, or vain.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘The Mission Miss Sahiba in dress must be plain;</div> -<div class="verse">The Mission Miss Sahibas must furnish their brain,—</div> -<div class="verse">Of two or three languages knowledge obtain,—</div> -<div class="verse">When weary and puzzled, must try, try again;</div> -<div class="verse">We cannot learn grammar by <i lang="fr">leger de main</i>.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘The Mission Miss Sahiba must know every lane,</div> -<div class="verse">Climb ladder-like stairs, without fearing a sprain;</div> -<div class="verse">The Mission Miss Sahibas must speak very plain,</div> -<div class="verse">Must rebuke and encourage, must teach and explain;</div> -<div class="verse">The Mission Miss Sahibas must grasp well the rein;</div> -<div class="verse">The Mission Miss Sahibas must not look for gain,</div> -<div class="verse">Though doctoring sick folk, like Jenner or Quain.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘Let Mission Miss Sahibas from late hours refrain,</div> -<div class="verse">For they must rise early, and bear a hard strain,</div> -<div class="verse">Like vigorous cart-horses, drawing a wain,</div> -<div class="verse">That pull well together, when yoked twain and twain.</div> -<div class="verse">The Mission Miss Sahibas must work might and main,</div> -<div class="verse">And therefore good nourishment should not disdain,—</div> -<div class="verse">Or danger is great of their going insane.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘The Mission Miss Sahibas must topis<a name="FNanchor_92" id="FNanchor_92"></a><a href="#Footnote_92" class="fnanchor">[92]</a> retain,</div> -<div class="verse">Must guard against sunstroke, to health such a bane;</div> -<div class="verse">And midst frogs and mosquitoes must patient remain,</div> -<div class="verse">Yes, e’en when tormented, must smile through their pain;</div> -<div class="verse">And, with courage like that of the knights of Charlemagne,</div> -<div class="verse">By Mission Miss Sahibas snakes should be slain.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘The Mission Miss Sahibas should sow well the grain,</div> -<div class="verse">Dark babies should fondle, dark women should train,</div> -<div class="verse">And Bibis and Begums at times entertain;</div> -<div class="verse">Should smile and should soothe, but not flatter or feign;</div> -<div class="verse">And to usefulness thus they may hope to attain.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘<i>N.B.</i>—Let all Mission Miss Sahibas single remain,—</div> -<div class="verse">If they don’t, they step out of their proper domain,—</div> -<div class="verse">And can never be Mission Miss Sahibas again!’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="II_CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1879<br /> -THE CHURCH AT BATALA</span></h3> - -<p>The annals of 1879 are as usual very abundant, and space -can only be found for a limited selection of extracts. -Miss Tucker was much distressed about the Afghan war; -not because of any possible peril or discomfort to herself, -but because her judgment disapproved of it as a whole, -and also because of the sufferings which she knew it must -entail upon the soldiers.</p> - -<p>While the larger number of extracts given are, throughout -her Indian career, in reference to the work going on round -about her, it must not be supposed that her love for -relatives and old friends, or her interest in all that concerned -them, ever for a moment waned. The letters teem -with loving words and messages; and every item of news -from England is received with delight. Her affections -seem to have grown stronger rather than weaker, through -long separation.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>Jan. 16, 1879</i>.—Mine own Laura, how could you write -regarding the little meeting, at which you and sweet Margaret were, -“Would you not like to be in my shoes at the time, and hold your -darling friend in your arms?” I would much rather have been in -<em>Margaret’s shoes</em>, and have held some one else in my arms,—only for -the wrench that would have followed! But O love, we are -travelling in the same train, only in different carriages; and I am -thankful that though we cannot see each other, we can as it were -talk to each other out of the windows. What a blessing the Post is!’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right"><i>‘Jan. 20, 1879.</i></p> - -<p>‘Ours is not to be a village church, dear, but one in a city of more -than 25,000 inhabitants, where there are graceful mosques, a large -idol-temple, etc. A mere mud shed would be quite out of character; -our present room in a schoolhouse would be better than that. There -is considerable difficulty and expense in buying a site. It ought to be -<em>in</em> the city. I have written to dear —— about one which Mr. Baring -has seen, but it is very doubtful whether the place can be purchased.</p> - -<p>‘My nephew and I are both economical, and I think that you and -dear Fred may depend on money not being wasted in useless -decorations. But the sacred edifice ought to be of brick, and pretty -strong, not only to endure for years, but also to keep out the heat. A -tiny church would not cost much; one so small that beams could -reach from side to side. But if our Church is to go on growing, as -we hope and pray that it may, what would be the advantage of having -a tiny chapel, which would not comfortably accommodate ourselves -in a fiery climate, and in which there would be no room at all for -heathen spectators? We should be wanting a <em>second</em>; and how -could we procure a second clergyman? Please thank dear Fred -very, very much for his kindness in collecting, and assure him that -we wish to make the money go as far as possible.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p>‘<i>Jan. 31.</i>—I sometimes think that it is well for me that I have no -one to carry cushions after me,—as the dear A——s made the boys -do in George Square,—or to watch my face to see if I look pale. -I have been enabled to make efforts, for which I might not have -thought my frame capable, and have kept my health wonderfully.</p> - -<p>‘This is the eighth day that I have not seen an English person! -Mera Bhatija has been away on duty; but I hope to have him back -to-morrow. I shall not be sorry to see him again; we are becoming -more and more like <em>real</em> Aunt and Nephew. He wanted me to go to -Amritsar during his needful absence; but there were strong reasons -against that....</p> - -<p>‘As regards health, we are between Scylla and Charybdis. People -in India cannot help thinking a great deal about it, because five -minutes’ carelessness may wreck health for life; yet it is a great -matter for us, if possible, to keep from sinking to the languid -“cannot-do-anything” point. To rest there is something like letting -the head go under water. I often think of dear Uncle Tom’s -expression,—“Never say die!”’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. E——</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Feb. 4, 1879.</i></p> - -<p>‘My nephew, the Rev. F. Baring, has organised little relief works; -for, owing to drought, and partly to the war, there is much distress in -Batala. If you were here, dear Aunt, it would interest you to walk -about, leaning on my arm, and see poor men in their rags, women -and children, carrying baskets of earth on their heads, to fill up that -part of the tank which is nearest to the house. It is a good thing for -us, but a better thing for the poor folk, who are thankful to earn their -pice. Mr. Baring intends also to give poor women in the city -employment in spinning, and to get a Christian native weaver to -make the cotton into towels or napkins....</p> - -<p>‘Both my nephews, Mr. Bateman and Mr. Baring, are very clever -in finding ways to start the Converts in life, giving them means of -earning an honest livelihood. One fine lad has a place in the Woods -and Forests Department; another is learning work in the Press; a -third is to be employed in a religious book-shop; a fourth convert is -doing profitable business as a small wood-merchant. Another, who -has a little money of his own, intends to set up a small shop in his -own village. This is rather brave, as, only a month or two ago, he -was driven forth by his own family with threats and curses. It -seems to me that a very important part of a Missionary’s work is to -watch over converts after Baptism, both as regards body and soul. -In the Church, in the time of the Apostles, converts were not left -to starve. They must not be idle, but they must have the means -of earning their bread. We also greatly wish that every Native -convert should feel it to be his or her work to bring in others to -Christ....</p> - -<p>‘We intend to have a Fancy Fair in April, for the Church which -we hope to build; but the great puzzle will be to find buyers,—Mr. -Baring and myself being the only white folk in Batala, and Natives -generally disliking to spend money, except on marriages, funerals, -jewels, and sweetmeats.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p>‘<i>March 3.</i>—I have another dear letter, to-day received, to thank -you for. You need take no thought, love, about where I sit. We have -benches in chapel; and as for my duli—to sit on its flat floor does -not hurt me in the least. I dare say that dear E. never got into -the way of it; but I take to it as a duck to the water. The only -difficulty is the scrambling out of the box; but this does me no -harm; it is wholesome exercise. As for a carriage, it would be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span> -useless in Batala. I was regularly blocked in to-day, even in my -tiny duli. The streets are so narrow and so crowded....’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO W. F. T. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>March 17.</i></p> - -<p>‘Our saintly Bishop, Dr. French, is now our guest.... We are -having such an interesting time, a heart-warming time! There is to -be a Confirmation to-morrow; and oh, through what fiery trials some -of the dear candidates have come! There is B—n, ... the first -man who dared to be baptized in bigoted Batala. His Baptism -cost him wife and child. There is the thin, worn B. D., with his -hair turning grey; the only Christian in his village, he whom his -own mother has reviled.... There is the aged Faqir and his -stalwart sons,—but I need not enumerate all. I have told you -enough to show what peculiar features of interest may attend a -Confirmation in India,—especially perhaps in so thoroughly Oriental -a place as this, where there are no Europeans at all but my nephew -and myself.</p> - -<p>‘Ours is such a dear little Church,—I am not aware that there is -one really black sheep in it, though there are some infirm ones. Ten -women are to receive Confirmation. I think that all but perhaps one -have been converts from Muhammadanism or Hinduism. I do not -mean to say that they are all Batala people; but Batala is a genial -place to which converts seem drawn.</p> - -<p>‘To-morrow, after Confirmation, we hope to spread, not the <em>board</em> -but the <em>floor</em>, for a goodly number of welcome guests, more even than -we had at Christmas. One feels very thankful to see such a nice -large Christian family.... Of course some Stations are more trying to -faith; some of God’s servants have to toil for years, and apparently -catch nothing; but about here in various directions one hears of -converts and inquirers. There is feeling of <em>life</em> stirring among the -dry bones.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>April 1, 1879.</i></p> - -<p>‘Do you ever enter Trinity Church?<a name="FNanchor_93" id="FNanchor_93"></a><a href="#Footnote_93" class="fnanchor">[93]</a> Probably not, it is so far -from you. To your sweet Mother and myself many memories are -connected with it. Weddings and Christenings,—the overflowing -pew,—the corner of it where we used to see the dear bald head of our -venerated Father!...</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘We have a dear young convert from a village, who, like others, -finds in Batala a refuge. A simple guileless lad, who likes to -come, as dear U. did, to sit at one’s feet, and have a talk about God’s -Word.... He does not know much, but enough to have enabled -the lad to resist temptation and endure persecution.... I wish that -dear —— would take up the subject of <em>portable</em> Bibles in Persian -Urdu. Even the children of clever Christian parents are apt to be -sadly ignorant of Old Testament Scriptures. How much would -English school-children know of them, if they could only buy Bibles -in three (Persian Urdu) large volumes,—or in one (Arabic Urdu), -very large and heavy?</p> - -<p>‘It is not only the expense but the extreme inconvenience of such -bulky books that must be considered. Mera Bhatija has English -Urdu Bibles for his boys, but some read them with difficulty; and -we cannot expect a <em>nation</em> to adopt a new type utterly different from -its own. There is a beautifully written New Testament in Persian -Urdu ... light, easily carried about, and costing only half a rupee. -This is a great boon; but we want the Old Testament Scriptures.... -They are at present almost shut out from the people. Our great -want is a complete Bible, as delicately written out, and on as fine -light paper, as the New Testament, and not very expensive. Most -of the Natives are so very poor. I can scarcely imagine how they -manage to live.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>April 20, 1879</i>.</p> - -<p>‘Your dear, sweet letter received to-day was like a nice little visit -to me in my comparative loneliness. Mera Bhatija and Babu Singha -are both away at Amritsar.... If, when proposing to come out, I -could have been told that I should be all alone in a house with -thirteen Native boys,—my Ayah is absent from late illness,—I should -have been startled, perhaps half-frightened. But these dear fellows -do not worry me at all. I asked one of them yesterday: “If I -were ill, which of you would nurse me?” “All of us,” was the -reply. I thought that thirteen boys would be too much for a sick-room; -so—“We would take it in turns,” was the second answer....</p> - -<p>‘Many thanks, love, for the two copies of the nice work on -Prophecies in the Old Testament. It ought to convince any candid -mind.... It might be valuable to English-reading Muhammadans. -But it is not at all necessary with them to avoid the Blessed Saviour’s -Name. Yesterday, in a Zenana a bright-looking young woman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span> -exclaimed, not particularly apropos to anything that I was saying: -“Jesus Christ is the Son of God.” “Beshakh!” (Without doubt!) -instantly rejoined an older Bibi.</p> - -<p>‘Not that the offence of the Cross has ceased. The persecution -which dear —— is enduring shows this. He has been beaten five -or six times; and I think that we shall have to try to get his enemies -bound over to keep the peace. Personally, I am courteously, sometimes -affectionately, treated. The poor converts are those who have -to endure hardness!’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>April 27.</i>—I know that some of my dear ones think that I must -be very lonesome, with no white woman near me. But there are -three things to prevent this:—1st, The Presence of the Master. -2nd, The feeling that separation of body is nothing compared to -separation of soul. My ties to loved ones in England are <em>not</em>, thank -God, broken! They do not depend on mere space. 3rd, Real -loneliness, as regards even this world, is the want of love and -sympathy. Some count my brown friends for nothing in this way. -I do not do so. They draw out one’s affections, and respond to -them. The heart does not shrivel up in India, even when one lives -in such an out-of-the-way place as Batala.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>May 1, 1879.</i></p> - -<p>I am sure that your dear Mother and you would peruse with -interest Keshab Sen’s lecture, or rather the review of it in the <cite>Statesman</cite> -which I sent home.... Keshab Sen was a brave man, not only -as regards the Hindus, but the English officials, to say what he did. -To aver that it is Christ’s Religion—not our superior strength, -wisdom, intelligence—that holds India for us, is likely to give great -offence in high quarters. To say what this Hindu did of despised -Missionaries, a band of weak-minded amiable enthusiasts, if not -something more contemptible,—as the world thinks them,—showed -moral courage.... He has probably made a good many people, -both white and brown, angry. His cry, “Jesus alone!—Jesus alone! -India for Christ!” would find no echo in the large majority of -hearts....</p> - -<p>‘I suspect that there is an impression amongst some Europeans, -as well as Natives, that Auntie is very old. I have three times -heard the latter say that I am a hundred; and I notice that in the -last <cite>Female Evangelist</cite> I am pronounced “advanced in years.” -To my mind that means at least seventy!!! I was guessed to-day<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span> -as eighty in a Zenana. But I must be thought a pretty active old -dame, to get up such steep stairs as I do.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p>‘<i>June 2, 1879.</i>—Of course I cannot tell what God wills for me. -I do not intend to do anything foolish. I do not even let my mind -dwell <em>much</em> on the joy of going to a Heavenly Home, because it -would seem selfish at present to wish to desert others. I realise -more the value of life below than I used to do, and am thankful -that at former periods God did <em>not</em> fulfil my wish to leave this Earth -for a better. He is a poor soldier who is always pining for the end -of the campaign!’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>June 14.</i>—I never felt so that the Word of God in my hand was -rejected, as in a Zenana to-day. When I came out, V., my kahar, -said, “You should not go to that house again. I was outside, but -I heard words that grieved me.” But I had two nice Zenanas and -a nice Native Christian home to balance. One of the nice Zenanas was -N.’s. He spoke almost like a Christian, before his mother, grandmother, -and handsome young bride. They all seemed quite friendly.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>June 20.</i>—Darling Laura, your sweet letter has arrived since I -wrote the first note. Would you fairly <em>kill</em> me with kindness? You -have already done too much. No, my sweet sister, I would never -like to take your money for needless luxuries,—of comforts I have -many. Ice is not to be had, is <em>not</em> needed, and I hardly ever even -think of it. We are much better without a carriage; walking is -more wholesome, and to me more pleasant. I kissed the signature -on the cheque—and then—destroyed it! Forgive me! In about -two years I have had <em>three</em> cheques declined; so you see that I -have enough and to spare. I am quite easy-handed, love; not at -all in straits, thank God.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Probably July 1879.</i>)</p> - -<p>‘I am engaged in a matrimonial affair. B., Mera Bhatija’s -Christian servant, having just been rejected by one woman, solicits, -through my Ayah, my good offices to find him a wife. He bears a -first-rate character, and would make an excellent husband, but he -has the single disadvantage of having only one leg. I know that -Mera Bhatija wishes B. to have a nice wife; so—after consultation -with one who knows the Orphanage maidens well, and has an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span> -excellent judgment,—I have fixed on a jolly, good-tempered girl, -... able to cook and scrub, and have written a note to the Lady -Superintendent, requesting her permission for B. to pay court -to C. C. is to be told of the lameness, etc., and then if she too -be willing, B. will be allowed to have an interview with her. -This interview decides the affair. Both parties have a negative -voice; both must be pleased; and if so—the banns are published! -This is the compromise between European and Oriental ways of -arranging marriages. I think that Mera Bhatija takes a lively -interest in the matter; and if the marriage comes off, we should -both like to have the wedding at Batala. The people here ought -to have the opportunity of seeing a Christian wedding.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>July 29, 1879.</i></p> - -<p>‘I will give you another of my little Batala sketches. I am sitting -reading. Enters M., the tall one-armed Faqir (religious beggar), -who has been acting as Mera Bhatija’s pankah-wala. He evidently -wants to talk with me; so, seeing me willing to listen, the tall fellow -seats himself on the floor, and begins....</p> - -<p>‘The poor fellow had been thinking how he could earn his livelihood,—he -has a wife and four children, and of course religious -begging would be for a convert both improper and unprofitable. -“Pankah-pulling will last for but a short time,” he very truly observed. -His plan was to start a little school in his own village.</p> - -<p>‘“But could you get pupils?” I asked, knowing that the humble -converts are not kindly treated by their neighbours.</p> - -<p>‘“I think that I could from the hamlets round.”</p> - -<p>‘Then I inquired as to the poor Faqir’s qualifications for a teacher. -“I can read the Gospel well,” was the simple reply.</p> - -<p>‘“Can you write?”</p> - -<p>‘He was weak in that, poor fellow. Having only one arm increases -the difficulty.</p> - -<p>‘“Do you know accounts?”</p> - -<p>‘“No,” he frankly owned; but he could learn; he would take pains.</p> - -<p>‘“You had better speak to the Padri Sahib; he makes all the -bandobast (arrangements); he is wise and kind.”</p> - -<p>‘If <em>I</em> would speak to the Padri Sahib,—he could tell <em>me</em>; but with -the Padri Sahib he was shy, etc.</p> - -<p>‘It is rather refreshing to see a Native Christian, especially one -brought up to regard idleness rather as a virtue, turning over in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span> -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 <em>labourers</em> to mind the plough, spell out their -Testaments, and try to obey God’s commands.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>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.’</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Dilur</span>, <i>Aug. 25</i>.</p> - -<p>‘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.</p> - -<p>‘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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span> -repulses. Those possessing such qualities may be sincere servants -of Christ; but these qualities <em>spoil all likeness</em>! So, love, here is -the result of my cogitations, as I reclined on the sofa to rest myself -after rather a tiring little expedition.</p> - -<p>‘But oh, what a solemnising thought it is!—The likeness to Him, -which we <em>know</em> 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?’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Sept. 29.</i></p> - -<p>‘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....’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Later, in the same letter, when speaking of two young -converts, she says of one of them:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘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!’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>Oct. 31, 1879</i>.—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 <em>the</em> 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!...</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘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....’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Nov. 13.</i>—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!</p> - -<p>‘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 <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span>, 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.</p> - -<p>‘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 <em>not</em> 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.</p> - -<p>‘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 <em>rich</em>, my Laura knows. This brought -me up to 3 o’clock dinner.</p> - -<p>‘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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>‘Now is not this a very nice Indian birthday? I feel quite well -and hearty now; much stronger than when in the Salt range.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Nov. 22.</i>—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.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Nov. 29, 1879.</i></p> - -<p>‘Yesterday, at last, the cricket-match between our School and the -big Government School came off. We challenged the Government -School long ago; but they took no notice. Yesterday, however, a -match was arranged between our Christian School and the Government -one, which is about ten or twelve times as large. We were much the -first on the ground, and were kept waiting for more than an hour. -Most of our Eleven wore red-checked flannel vests, but R. the -captain had a becoming grey one.... At last the match commenced; -but it was hardly worth calling one. The Government lads could not -hold their own in the least! The whole Eleven only made 5 runs -between them!</p> - -<p>‘It was a very different thing when our boys took the batting. It -does one good to hear the thud from R.’s bat when he sends the -ball flying ever so far. He and S. made, I think, 87 runs, and -were never bowled out. The rest of our boys had no turns at all; -for the sun went down, and still R. and S., tired, but unconquered, -held their wickets. What is most pleasing is that our boys did not -crow as they might have done,—their opponents were too utterly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span> -smashed. Had the contest been a close one, there would have been -plenty of cheering.</p> - -<p>‘I really hope that it may do good for it to be known through -Batala that, in a manly game, the Hindus and Muhammadans “cannot -hold a candle” to the Christian boys, who go preaching and -singing hymns on Sunday! Piety is all the more attractive from -union with manliness.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Dec. 8.</i>—Mera Bhatija intends to start a reading-room in the city -in 1880, with Bibles in various languages, books, and some Native -periodicals. The <cite>Illustrated</cite>—if you think of continuing it—will form -one of the baits. Many lads now can read a little English; and the -pictures will form an attraction.’</p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="II_CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1880-1881<br /> -LOYAL AND TRUE</span></h3> - -<p>The series of extracts from letters, through the year 1879, -given in the last chapter, will convey a fair general idea of -how many succeeding years were passed. To quote with -equal fulness from each year would mean—not one comparatively -small volume, but two large ones; and, however -interesting the subject-matter in itself, readers might be -expected to grow weary.</p> - -<p>Year after year Charlotte Tucker lived on in the old -palace, which had so strangely become her home, surrounded -by the brown boys, whom she loved; and by -the spring of 1880 they had grown to forty in number. -Year after year she wrote little booklets for the Natives of -India. Year after year she persisted in her steady round -of Zenana visits; not, like the average district-visitor of -England, going once a fortnight or once a week into her -district,—which was the whole city of Batala,—but day -after day giving hours to the work, never daunted because -results seemed small, never apparently even tempted to -throw up her arduous task in despair. She had to <em>plough</em> -for the Master of the harvest; and she was content to -leave results with Him.</p> - -<p>It must have been a monotonous life, viewed from ordinary -standpoints. Charlotte Tucker had had plenty of -society in the past; and though she might laugh at stiff<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span> -dinner-parties or dull morning calls, she had fully enjoyed -intercourse with superior and cultivated minds. Some -amount of such intercourse she had still in the Panjab; -but for months together, as time went on, she was thrown -mainly upon her own resources, was left with absolutely -no European companions. It is hardly within the bounds -of possibility that she should not have suffered from the -deprivation, cheerily as she received it.</p> - -<p>‘Missionaries in work are usually rather “yoked two -and two,”’ she wrote to an Aunt, in the beginning of 1880. -Then after a slight allusion to her successive ‘yoke-fellows’ -at Batala, she adds brightly: ‘And I look -forward for the greater part of 1880 to going side by side -with Babu Singha, the converted Hindu Head-master,’—with -kind mention also of his wife and children.</p> - -<p>Friends might say what they would. Miss Tucker had -advanced far beyond the stage when it was possible to -convince her that she ‘could not stay alone’ in Batala. -Mr. Baring had decided to go to England for eight months; -and no one else was free to join her in Anarkalli; but -she refused to desert her post. In fact, she would not be -‘alone’ there now, as she would have been two years -earlier. She loved and was loved by the little circle of -Indian Christians in the place; and the merry boys of the -household were very dear to her. None the less, her position -was a singularly solitary one.</p> - -<p>The frequent arrival of boxes from England afforded -her never-failing delight; partly on her own account, and -yet more for the additional facilities afforded thereby for -giving away. Pages each year might be filled with quotations -on this subject alone.</p> - -<p>Also month by month fresh indications appeared of the -reality of the work going on,—an inquirer here; a convert -there; an abusive Muhammadan softened into gentleness; -an ignorant Heathen enlightened; a bigot persuaded;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span> -and now and again one coming forward, bravely resolute -to undergo Baptism, willing to face the almost inevitable -persecution following. All these things were of perpetual -occurrence, and they lay very near to Charlotte Tucker’s -heart.</p> - -<p>On the 30th of January 1880 comes a pungent little -sentence:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘What fearful people the Nihilists are! When one reads of them, -one seems to see Satan let loose! There is some similarity between -India and Russia. Perhaps some years hence a Nihilist crop may -rise from tens of thousands of sharp conceited lads whom the Government -so carefully educate <em>without God</em>! They cannot possibly all get -the prizes in life which they look for; they <em>won’t</em> dig,—so will naturally -swell the dangerous classes. Such dear lads as we have here -will be, we trust, as the salt in the mass. But they may have a -difficult work before them.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Two letters in February to two nieces must not be -passed over. In the first we have a glimpse of the dark as -well as of the hopeful side:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Feb. 2.</i>—That most unhappy lad, ——, seems to be a thorough -hypocrite. Only a day or so after professing himself a true penitent, -and kneeling in seeming prayer at my side, he has, we hear, been -actually preaching in the bazaar here against the Christians.... The -subject is too sad to dwell upon; but it is better that I should let you -know at once, as I sent home so hopeful a letter.</p> - -<p>‘Fancy poor E. Bibi actually paying me a visit here yesterday -evening. The delicate creature longed to come. I told her to ask -her husband’s leave, and suggested that he had better come with her. -She asked me to send my kahar in the morning, and she would send -a message by him as to whether her “Sahib” consented or not. The -answer was favourable; so I made arrangements to have two dulis at -her door after dark, for E., her mother, and her two little girls. -I warned our boys to keep out of the chapel, into which I first introduced -the Bibis. I went to the harmonium, and sang to it, “Jesus -lives,” and two or three verses of the Advent hymn, etc. While we -were in the chapel the husband joined us, sat down, and quietly -listened. He was very silent, which I think showed good manners.</p> - -<p>‘We then all proceeded up our long staircase.... I offered tea,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span> -but no one drank it; the children ate some pudding, and I presented -each of them with one of the dolls which your dear Mother sent out, -which I have had dressed.... I think the party were pleased. I -wonder what thoughts were passing in the mind of that silent husband. -He knows perfectly well what I visit his wife for; for in -Batala we do not hide our colours at all. I sometimes think that -dear M.<a name="FNanchor_94" id="FNanchor_94"></a><a href="#Footnote_94" class="fnanchor">[94]</a> dashes right at the enemy almost too boldly; but as she -is a supposed descendant of Muhammad, I dare say that her dauntless -intrepidity has a good effect. I do not find the women made -angry even by what must startle them. Of course one’s manner -must be gentle and conciliating, even when meeting the question, -“Do you think that Muhammad told lies?” with a simple straightforward, -“Yes.”</p> - -<p>‘I think that not a few Batala women do now believe that our -religion is the right one, and that our Blessed Lord is the Saviour of -sinners. But this belief may exist for years before there is any -desire for Baptism.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Feb. 6.</i>—One visit which I paid in the former place (Amritsar) -would have warmed your heart. In a cottage in the Mission compound, -occupied by one of the Bible-women, I found three who -doubtless will inherit the blessing promised to all who are persecuted -for righteousness’ sake. There was dear faithful Begum J., and -her daughter, K. (now a Bible-woman). These are the two who, -as you may remember, were threatened with a razor by Begum -J.’s husband, and fled, and were afterwards baptized. They had -come to see another brave Convert, who had been baptized on the -previous day.</p> - -<p>‘A fierce crowd had attacked her, tore the jewels from her ears, -beat her on the head, threatened to cut off her nose! How she -escaped she cannot tell; she was bewildered. Perhaps some unseen -Angel took her by the hand. She reached <em>somehow</em> a duli, which was -in waiting for her, and was baptized the same day.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The school was so growing, that by March 1880 a -good many of the boys had to sleep on the floor which -formerly had been reserved entirely for Europeans. This -Miss Tucker did not mind.</p> - -<p>Before the end of March she had to bid good-bye to her -dharm-nephew, who was starting for England. It must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span> -have given her a strange feeling, thus to see one and -another leave for the dear old country, which she so loved, -and yet which she had resolved never of her own free will -to see again.</p> - -<p>The previous day a feast was given in Mr. Baring’s -honour, the boys ‘subscribing to buy the little dainties’; -and ‘speeches of love and gratitude’ being made. Then, -in the early morning, long before dawn, Miss Tucker felt -her way down the dark staircase, to see the traveller off. -‘The babies,’ as she called some of the tinier brown boys, -were there also; one small orphan looking ‘sad and -thoughtful’ over the farewell. Bigger boys also came -down, and they waited in the Chapel till the Principal -appeared. Shakings of hands were followed by cheers, as -Mr. Baring drove away in the dâk-gari,—‘probably with -mingled feelings,’ writes Miss Tucker. One is disposed to -wonder what <em>her</em> feelings were, as she turned back into the -palace; alone among her companions; the only European -in that Eastern city! Yet no signs of heart-quailing -can be seen in the letter to her sister, written on the same -day.</p> - -<p>In this spring of 1880 came another event of importance,—the -‘Disruption’ of the older Zenana Society, -under which Charlotte Tucker had worked as an Honorary -Member.</p> - -<p>There is no necessity to enter fully here into the causes -which led to that disruption. To some of us it may seem -to have been, sooner or later, almost inevitable. Until -that date the attempt had been made to work on what are -sometimes called ‘un-denominational lines,’—which meant -that the Missionaries might be either Churchwomen or -Dissenters, each teaching according to her own convictions. -A difficult programme to carry out, one is disposed to -imagine! After a while friction arose in the Governing -Body at home. Since by far the larger majority of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span> -workers in the field belonged to the Anglican Church, it -was rightly considered that the Governing Body ought to -consist of an equally large majority of Church people; and -on this point the split took place. The Society broke -into two parts. The one part remained more or less Dissenting; -the other part became distinctly and exclusively -Church of England. Each Missionary had to make her -own decision as to which she would join; and Charlotte -Tucker at least had no hesitation in the matter. On the -12th of May she wrote:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘Here I am at home again, after my strange little visit to Amritsar; -short, but by no means unimportant. All our five ladies have crossed -the Rubicon; they have sent in their resignations, with the usual six -months’ notice. It remains to be seen whether the new “Church of -England Zenana Society” will or <em>can</em> take them all on! We know -not what the state of their funds will be, as they begin on nothing. -Our ladies, with Mr. Weitbrecht the Secretary, seemed to have no -hesitation as to what course to pursue,—that of resignation.... I am -very desirous to know what dear Margaret Elmslie and Emily will -do.... How the complicated machinery of the Mission will work -during the strange interregnum I know not.... One expects a sort of -little—not exactly chaos, but—struggling along in a fog, for the next -six months; and then we shall probably see our way clearly.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>On the following day she sent in her own resignation. -Little more appears about the subject in later letters. As -an Honorary Worker her own position was not affected, -nor was her income placed in jeopardy; and soon the new -‘Church of England Zenana Society,’ being warmly taken -up, was in full working order. Amongst those who joined -it were her friends, Mrs. Elmslie and Miss Wauton.</p> - -<p>At this time she was becoming very anxious for the return -of Mrs. Elmslie, who had been detained in England far -longer than was at first intended, by family claims. Sometimes -a fear was expressed that Mrs. Elmslie might never -return; and no one else could fill her place. Charlotte -Tucker did not dream of the happy consummation ahead.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span> -Two or three references to her earlier days occur in June -and July, as if some cause had sent her thoughts backward.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>June 4, 1880.</i>—I think, love, that one gets into a kind of social -fetters. When we were young we had the worry of a footboy at our -heels,—it was thought suitable for our position. (Do you remember -dear Fanny’s lovely definition of that word?) When I was in -Edinburgh, dear —— was surprised, and I think a little shocked, at -“my father’s daughter” going in omnibuses. As if it were any -disgrace to my father’s middle-aged daughter to do what her precious -princely Sire had done a hundred times! O Laura, when one throws -aside these trammels of social position, one feels like a horse taken -out of harness, and set free in a nice green meadow. Our honoured -Father! what true dignity was his,—but how he shook off the -trammels!</p> - -<p>‘To be mean and miserly is quite another thing. That dishonours -our profession. One should be ready to entertain hospitably, and to -pay for work done handsomely; there is a free hand and a generous -spirit quite consistent with economy.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>July 13.</i>—Yes, love, we did intensely enjoy those concerts in H. -Square. I want you to enjoy more concerts. It is curious how useful -I have found my little music in the evening of my days. I -sometimes think of dear Mother’s words to me,—“Do not give up -your music.”’</p> - -</div> - -<p>In July, when Miss Tucker was congratulating herself -that half the time of Mr. Baring’s absence was over, a -letter arrived speaking of lengthened furlough. She was -much distressed, fearing harm to the school, and for a -while was assailed by fears that perhaps he and also Mrs. -Elmslie might never return. Happily these fears were -groundless; but plans were afloat for some temporary -arrangement while the Principal remained away. Miss -Wauton too was at this time taking her well-earned -furlough in England, and workers were sorely needed in -the Panjab; while new untrained Missionaries on first -going out could do little. ‘We want Margaret,’ was the -burden of her cry; to which was now added, ‘We want -Mr. Baring.’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span></p> - -<p>For herself she had no thought of a furlough. Friends -thought of it for her; and she put the idea resolutely -aside. Writing to Mrs. Hamilton on September 6, she -said: ‘And now for a more important subject, broached -in your sweet letter. I do not feel that it would be either -wise as regards myself, or right as regards my work, to go -home next year. The great fatigue of two journeys, the -excitement of meeting loved ones, and the wrench of -parting again,—I doubt how my health could stand it. -As regards the work—I need not expatiate. It would look -as if I thought much of the little that I could do; but -little is better than nothing. It seems to me that one of -the most useful things about me is that—hitherto—I have -stuck pretty close to my Station. If I were a Native -Christian, I think that I should be tempted to hate the -very word “going home,” and to regard Europe as a trap -for my Missionaries. Let them, if possible, have a <em>restful</em> -feeling in regard to at least one old woman, whom they -are ready to love.’</p> - -<p>And a few days later to Miss Hamilton, on September -14:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘Your sweet Mother threw out a suggestion about my going home -next year; but it seems to me, love, that if I did so,—unless -circumstances change,—I should deserve to be shot as a deserter. -Even if I were to become blind or paralytic, I believe that it would -be well to stick to Batala. I am the only apology for a European -Missionary here; and, curiously enough, my very <em>age</em> is an advantage. -What might be a great hindrance elsewhere is rather a help here.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>In a letter of September 14 occurs a passage about -apparent success or non-success in work. She had perhaps -comforted herself from time to time with such thoughts -as follow.</p> - -<p>Speaking about a certain American religious book, -which had been lent to her by one who greatly admired it, -and about Mr. Bateman’s opinion of the same volume,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span> -she observes: ‘What Rowland most objected to was -the American affirming that if you take certain means -to effect conversions, the result is as sure as harvest -following breaking up the ground. As Rowland says, we -cannot even break up the ground without God.... Are -we to conclude that —— and —— are truer workers than -dear —— spending his strength in breaking stones at K., -while the sheaves almost drop into the reapers’ arms at -D.? Did our Blessed Lord Himself, Who was always -sowing golden seed, reap a very large harvest during His -Ministry? St. Peter’s first sermon drew in a far greater -number than all the disciples of the Blessed Lord before -His Resurrection put together.’</p> - -<p>It was evident that, although she must have felt her -lonely position, she was gradually becoming used to it; -even so far as not at all to wish for a strange young lady -as a companion. Mrs. Hamilton had made strong -representations to the Society at home of the need of a -helper at Batala; and the letters given next seem to have -been written partly in consequence of this.</p> - -<p>As early as the spring of 1880 Miss Tucker could say: -‘I used to think it rather tiresome when business took both -my English companions for a few days away; now I am -quite serene if I do not see a white face for months.’ And -in November of the same year: ‘As to earthly blessings, -they abound; the Natives are my real friends. The Lord -gives abundant grace, and cheers me with His Presence; -and I have such joy in the companionship of my Bible, -that I do not miss the society I should otherwise value. -Do not send a helper to me, when many other parts of -India need it so much more.’</p> - -<p>Again, on September 27:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘It is very loving in you to be so anxious for me to have a lady-companion. -But, unless a Missionary’s wife, one might far from add -either to my comfort or usefulness. To put aside the possibility of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span> -her being eloquent,—a late sitter-up,—of a melancholy or nervous -temperament, or often ailing,—I really have no spare space for a -lady companion. She must share my bath-room, if not my bedroom; -and in India this would be very uncomfortable.</p> - -<p>‘But why, you may say, should there be more room for a married -pair than for one maiden lady? The answer is simple enough. If -a <em>gentleman</em> were here, the large family of the Singhas would give -up their rooms and move to the Banyans. We <em>must</em> have a gentleman -Superintendent.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Later in the same letter comes a reference to one of the -Heroes of her enthusiastic girlhood. Lady Outram and -her gallant husband had been intimate friends of the -Tucker family; and many a loving message in these later -years was sent home by Charlotte Tucker to the former.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I have been reading much of the noble Outram’s Memoir to-day. -As far as I have gone, I think that the Biographer has done his work -well. The Outram of the book is just the Outram who was the -admiration of our girlhood,—generous, chivalrous, noble! One feels -how much pain that fine spirit would have been saved, had he -realised how little it really matters whether good service be appreciated -or not by man, if the great Leader accept it,—if all be done as to -Him Who never overlooks or misunderstands! To our own Master -we stand or fall; let earthly superiors say what they will.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Oct. 16.</i>—Dear, excellent —— thinks that my not having a “Revival” -in Batala is because I do not study his favourite author. You can -hardly have a <em>Revival</em> unless there has been some life before.... -Our work is more like clearing in backwoods,—there are huge trees -and boulders cumbering the ground; not just weeds overspreading a -garden that once was a little cultivated. Then here women cannot -read, and do not choose to learn.... I like Miss Havergal’s <cite>Kept -for the Master’s Use</cite> so much. It is beautiful. But I do not feel -with her that it is possible on Earth to have our <em>will</em> exactly <em>one</em> -with God’s. Even the Blessed Saviour made a distinction between -“My Will” and “Thy Will.” Dear C. T. T., for instance, submitted -sweetly to her heavy trials; but it could not be her <em>will</em>, it was her -<em>cross</em>, to lose all her nearest and dearest, and see her father ill for so -many years.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Dec. 15, 1880.</i>—Dear Mr. Clark’s return has caused so much joy. -The Native Christians have had a loving address to him printed in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span> -letters of gold. I fancy that a general feeling is, “Now there is a -hand on the reins.” ... Mr. Clark is an experienced and skilful -driver. True, he is very weak, but he brings <em>brains</em>, and a power of -organisation. If he were a prisoner to his room he might be very -valuable still.... He was sadly missed....’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Dec. 17.</i>—<em>Please</em>, love, make no plans for bringing ladies to -Batala. It is so awkward to me to have to explain to nice enthusiastic -ladies that they cannot come. This is not a place except for elderly -or married ladies. If Mera Bhatija would bring out a nice wife, it -would give much pleasure; at present plans and propositions only—I -must not say burden me—but they do not help me. I do very well -as I am; I have had, through God’s goodness, a happy year; and if -I were to be ill, I would <em>rather</em> be doctored by our Sikh, and nursed -by our Natives. As for visitors, we have hardly any except in the -cooler weather; and a little packing then does no harm.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Of the following extracts to Mrs. E——, only two of -which are fully dated, all probably belong to about this -period:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>July 23.</i>—I saw to-day a sight which perhaps never met your eyes -in India, and which I never wish to see again; though it was not -without something of melancholy beauty. On Sunday towards dusk -I was with some of the boys, and they called out “Locusts!” I -looked up into the sky, and saw what my old eyes would have -considered harmless clouds high above me; but the young eyes must -have detected the motion of countless wings. To-day there was no -possibility of mistake. I was in a Zenana, in the full light of day, -gazing up at myriads and myriads,—dark against white clouds, light -against the blue sky,—passing over Batala. They looked to me like -God’s terrible army; so strong; so vigorous; not one amongst the -millions appeared to be weary; not one did I see drop down as if -faint from long flight. They flew as if they had a purpose; our fair -green fields did not appear to tempt the destroyers,—only I saw a -comparatively small number in one,—but they were clearly intent on -going somewhere else. Alas for the land where they alight! A -Native told me that they would probably come back again. How -helpless is man against such a foe! We can only ask for mercy, as -Pharaoh did.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Kangra</span>, <i>Aug. 21</i>.—I paid a visit to Kangra fort yesterday; a -grand picturesque place, holding a commanding position. The officer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span> -in command had prepared tea and cake for me, and the dear kind -soldiers lemonade, so I was treated with much hospitality. They do -not often see a lady up there. I have often thought of your dear -M.’s words about the soldiers, and her wondering at my feeling -shy with them. They are some of the pleasantest people in the world -to have to do with.... While I was taking tea with the Commander, -the soldiers were concocting a letter to say that they had collected -<em>ten rupees</em> to pay my expenses, and hoped that I would soon come -again. I certainly do not want their money, poor dear fellows; and -I mean to go again on Monday. Soldiers’ money seems to jump out -of their purses of its own accord. In this the Natives are far behind -them. Four soldiers—I think in Afghanistan—are uniting to support -a little girl at the Amritsar Orphanage. They are charmed with the -idea. I had nothing to do with it, except giving the Superintendent’s -address. I have over and over again received help for the Mission -from English soldiers, and I never ask them for it. Fine fellows!—and -to think what they have to suffer!’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>Oct. 1, 1880</i>.—I was amused to-day at what my kahar -called out. I am quite accustomed, as I am borne along in my little -duli, to hear my bearers shout, “Posh! posh!” (Hide! hide!), which -is absurd enough, as if all must flee from my approach. But to-day -was too absurd. I was, according to custom, walking to the city, -with my kahars carrying my duli behind. There was a rider in front, -mounted on a horse inclined to back. My attentive kahar, careful -that the animal should not hurt me, cried out, “Save the horse!”—as -if, instead of its kicking <em>me</em>, the danger was that a mild old lady -approaching on foot should demolish the unfortunate animal!’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>Jan. 31, 1881</i>.—As I was engaged yesterday with a -party of our boys, I was interrupted by hearing that my poor dear -Ayah had been stung—bitten, as the people incorrectly say—by a -scorpion. I thought what could be done. I had happily by me -some ipecacuanha, sent to me in 1879 by my dear kind sister, Laura, -in case of such an emergency, and also pain-killer, which she -forwarded to me more recently. Armed with these and a bit of tape, -probably her present also, I hastened to the compound, and found -my Ayah crying with the violent pain. She had already sucked -the poor finger. I tied my tape round it, anointed it with a mixture -of ipecacuanha and pain-killer, and gave some of the latter also -internally. My Hannah appeared to derive some relief, but had -much pain in the night. To-day, however, she is much better. I have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span> -never seen either scorpion or centipede in Batala; but then my long -staircase would present a formidable difficulty to such reptiles.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>About this time, hearing the boys one day singing <cite>The -Vicar of Bray</cite>, Miss Tucker wrote fresh words to suit the -old tune, and taught them to her young companions. -The second verse was curiously characteristic of herself.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘The rushing torrent bears along</div> -<div class="verse indent1">The straw on its surface thrown, Sir;</div> -<div class="verse">But the rock in its midst stands firm and strong,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Although it stand alone, Sir.</div> -<div class="verse">Oh, may our steadfast courage so</div> -<div class="verse indent1">In danger’s hour be seen, Sir;</div> -<div class="verse indent3">And let the tide flow,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">And let the world go,</div> -<div class="verse">We ‘ll be true to our Faith and our Queen, Sir!’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="II_CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1881-1882<br /> -CLOUDS AFTER SUNSHINE</span></h3> - -<p>The greater part of 1881 passed much as 1880 had passed; -Miss Tucker continuing to live in the old palace, busy and -happy among her Indian friends, and cheery with the -boys, having no second European within easy reach. But -in the spring came an unexpected joy. News arrived that -her dharm-nephew, the Rev. Francis Baring, was engaged -to be married to her dearly-loved friend, Mrs. Elmslie, -and that the two might be expected in Batala before the -close of the year. Could Charlotte Tucker have had the -shaping of events for herself, for her friends, and for Batala, -one can well imagine that this is precisely what she would -have chosen to take place. In the opening of the year, -however, she had no idea of what would soon come.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Jan. 5, 1881.</i>—In looking over my records of 1880, I find that in -the nine, or rather eight months, of Mera Bhatija’s absence,—as I -was away myself for a month,—I have given nearer seven hundred -than six hundred teas to boys or young men. The expense is trifling; -it seems as if a couple of pounds of tea lasted for ever; but all these -little marks in my book represent a good deal of innocent enjoyment, -not, I hope, unmixed with profit. All the boys, save two lately come, -have again and again sat at my table, chatted or played with me.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Jan. 11.</i>—I was with a poor weeping Bibi yesterday. Her heart -was very heavy. She told me that her husband had forsaken her; -he has gone away and married another. When I asked her in the -presence of her companions who Christ is, she replied, “God’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span> -Son.” “Why did He come from Heaven?” “To save us.” I wish -that this forlorn one would throw herself on His love, and come into -the Church. I read God’s Word to another Bibi to-day, who is in -the same position,—desolate, forsaken, ready to listen. A third case -is somewhat similar. You would think it comparatively easy for -these forsaken ones to come out; but even to them the difficulties -are immense. Where the husband is tolerably kind, the difficulty is -next to insuperable; for marriage by Muhammadan law,—and I -have lately been shocked to hear, by English law also,—is <em>dissolved</em> -by Baptism. This is dead against St. Paul’s directions as to the duty -of believing wives towards unbelieving husbands; and you can -imagine how it complicates the difficulties of Zenana visitors!... -If one would express in one word the Missionary’s worst perplexity, -I think that I would put down the word “marriage.”’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Feb. 5, 1881.</i>—I went to a wedding yesterday, one of the silly -child-marrying affairs, with which the Hindus delight to ruin themselves -and run into debt. Poor —— quite agreed with me that it is -very foolish; but he and his relatives cannot resist dastur,<a name="FNanchor_95" id="FNanchor_95"></a><a href="#Footnote_95" class="fnanchor">[95]</a> so both -my kahars receive next to nothing for five months, to work out their -debt to me. I had to do rather a difficult thing for an old lady, in -order to get to the wedding-party, climb a real ladder—not very -good—of eight rounds. I am not as agile as I used to be, and had to -go up and up, and then down and down, very slowly and cautiously. -To parody Byron’s lines—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“The feat performed I—boots it well or ill,</div> -<div class="verse">Since not to tumble down is something still....”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<i>May 10.</i></p> - -<p>‘I thought that my birthday would pass over very quietly and -silently, as it fell on a Sunday.... But my Native friends would -not let me go without my birthday tamasha, merely delaying it till the -Monday. I could not regret it, for certainly it was one of the most -gratifying evenings that I have ever enjoyed. We had our feast, -given by the Singhas, on the top of their house, with the glorious -dark-blue sky as our ceiling, and our lamp the beautiful moon.... -I was presented with a Batala scarf or chaddah, for which my dear -boys had subscribed. A wonderful chaddah it is, with borders of -red and gold. I thought by moonlight that the colour was grey.... -In the morning I saw the exceedingly gay <em>green</em>, of which I enclose -a thread.... It is precious to me, as a token of affection.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘The Native Christians not unfrequently subscribe to give a -parting gift to a Missionary whom they love, when starting for -England; but I suppose they thought that, in my case, if they waited -for that they would never give me anything, and that it was no harm -to present me with something for <em>not</em> going away! Mr. K. was -rather astonished at the wild bhajans, which he declares are all on -one note—but that is a mistake—but he says that they helped to cure -his earache; a very curious and novel effect, which I never knew -before to belong to a bhajan!...</p> - -<p>‘I think, love, that these little particulars will amuse you. I write -playfully, but the real undermost feeling in my heart is that of humble -gratitude to Him from Whom all blessings flow,—the love of true and -God-fearing hearts being one of the most precious of those blessings.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. J. BOSWELL.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>March 17, 1881.</i></p> - -<p>‘The Hindus appear to be particularly silly at this time of the -year. They throw about coloured water, so as to make almost all -the white dresses of their companions look dirty and disreputable. -My poor —— came particularly badly off, for he not only had three -times his raiment dirtied, but his hand rather severely hurt. Said I -to him, “Do you think such a religion is from God?” “It is -devilish,” he frankly assented. “A devilish religion; a devilish -deed.” “Why do you not leave it?” The poor fellow was silent. -It is not faith in his nonsensical religion that holds him back, but -love of social ties and surroundings.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>April 13.</i></p> - -<p>‘Our good pastor Sadiq and I had a long talk together to-day. -We two almost, as it were, form a little party by ourselves; we -are regular old-fashioned Panjabis, something like Saxons after -the Norman Conquest. Sadiq highly approves of this school, -because we don’t Anglicise the boys.... But the Anglicising tide -runs too fast for Sadiq and me. We get spoilt by Batala, where -there are no Europeans or Eurasians.... This is a grand transition -time in India; and the Conservatism, which I drank in at old No. 3, -remains in me like an instinct now. I would keep everything unchanged -that is not wrong or foolish—and there is such a fearful -amount of things that <em>are</em> wrong and foolish, that one might think -that to get rid of them would give all occupation sufficient. But I -know that I am old-fashioned, and live too much in one groove to be -able to judge correctly.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. E——</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>July 29, 1881.</i></p> - -<p>‘You have perhaps heard that I am to have a charming lady to be -with me; for my adopted nephew, the Rev. F. H. Baring, is bringing -out a lovely bride, one whom I know well, and whom I have been -accustomed to call my Queen-Lily, because she is so tall and fair. -I expect her to do Mission-work much better than I can; and will -not our boys love her! They seem to have made up their minds -that she is to be their mother; so she will have a fine large family -to look after, thirty-seven boys, or more; some of them really not -boys, but men. Rowland Bateman is to perform, or rather, I believe, -has performed, the marriage service for his friend. We expect to -have grand rejoicings here on the arrival of the happy pair. It was -a feast to see the way in which the news of their Principal’s engagement -was received by his boys.... There was such clapping and -delight, that you might have thought all the boys were going to be -married themselves!’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Sept. 4, 1881.</i></p> - -<p>‘I visited to-day a poor mother who has lost a fine little boy. -I seated myself amongst the mourners, and talked with the mother. -What she said gave me a gleam of hope regarding the child of -ten. He had till lately attended our Mission School, so of course -had received religious instruction. He had the opportunity also -of learning something in the Zenana, and knew Christian Hymns. -His illness was <em>very</em> short; and what he said no one could -understand; but, as his mother assured me more than once, “<em>he -smiled twice</em>.” This seems but a sunbeam to build upon; yet as I -have never known or heard of Muhammadans or Heathen smiling -when about to die,—the death-smile seems exclusively Christian!—I -cannot but hope that the dear little fellow <em>had</em> looked to the -Saviour. I told the mother of the hope in my mind, and spoke to -the weeping little brother also.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Oct. 3.</i>—It is a real pleasure to look forward to, that of welcoming -the Barings back, and placing the reins in younger and stronger -hands than my own. Not a giving up of work, please God, but a -lightening of responsibility. How often we say or think, “Oh, we’ll -leave that till the Padri Sahib comes.” He is to do the thinking and -ordering and arrangement in his little bishopric. As for sweet, -lovely Margaret, I expect to see her gentle influence bearing on all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span> -sides. We are not likely to disagree, unless it be on the subject of -who is to sing first, and who is to take the coveted second part.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Peshawar</span>, <i>Oct. 18, 1881</i>.—A large military station like Peshawar -is rather a contrast to Batala. But, poor India! Where one -sees less of the enemy attacking in one direction, we find him advancing -in another. Over the Hindus and Muhammadans he throws -the chains of Superstition, Idolatry, Self-righteousness,—he makes -them choose a murderer instead of the Prince of Life. For the -Europeans he has coldness, deadness, infidelity! I noticed at -Church that but <em>one man</em> stayed to Holy Communion.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Nov. 7.</i>—I am so much stronger after my visit to Peshawar,—quite -a different being. It must be a comfort to Babu Singha, who thought -me ageing with wonderful rapidity. But at Peshawar I took a backward -spring. I was more than six hours to-day on an expedition to -the village of Urduhi, going in my duli; and I was very little tired,—quite -ready for Henry <span class="smcapuc">VIII.</span> and his six wives in the afternoon, and -for Agamemnon and Achilles in the evening. It is amusing to go -back to the old stories one read in one’s childhood.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Nov. 22, 1881.</i></p> - -<p>‘The visit of the two Bishops,<a name="FNanchor_96" id="FNanchor_96"></a><a href="#Footnote_96" class="fnanchor">[96]</a> Mr. Clark, and the Chaplain, Mr. -Deedes, went off beautifully. Everybody seemed pleased with -Batala; and the Bishop of Calcutta wrote such handsome things in -the school-book, that I am sure dear Babu Singha was gratified. -The Bishop of Calcutta is a striking-looking man; tall, with a simple, -unaffected dignity.... He gives one the impression of both physical -and intellectual strength, combined with true piety. As the vigorous, -energetic practical man, he forms an interesting contrast to the -fragile-looking, saintly Bishop of Lahore. Then Mr. Clark has a -calm charm of his own,—described by a lad as “looking like an -angel, with his beautiful white beard.” ...</p> - -<p>‘Of course we had a feast. Then followed brief recitations from -Shakespeare, and choruses. To-day the school was examined in -Scripture, and pleased the Bishop. We had Divine Service, and an -interesting, forcible sermon, well translated, sentence by sentence, by -Mr. Clark. The Bishop of Calcutta afterwards went over the place, -examining the boys’ beds, etc., struck at Native lads having such -clean sheets, and at hearing that they were changed weekly. He -kindly visited our poor sick M., who is much better, thank God,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span> -though still—after six weeks—confined to bed. I gave my guests -plenty to eat; and my bottle of wine held out bravely, two of the -gentlemen preferring tea, while the wine-drinkers were very moderate. -I had to manage a little to make my furniture suffice for four guests. -There was a little borrowing, but not much. I put two of your sweet -mother’s lovely tidies, quite fresh, over chair and sofa, to look elegant. -I wore the pretty cap, trimmed with blue, and my graceful grey dress, -both gifts from No. 31.<a name="FNanchor_97" id="FNanchor_97"></a><a href="#Footnote_97" class="fnanchor">[97]</a></p> - -<p>‘The Bishop of Calcutta, before leaving, kindly put into my hand -a note for 100 rupees. I asked him to what purpose I should apply -it; he replied to whatever purpose I liked; so I at once decided on -our City Mission School, our Batala <em>Plough</em>, which has almost come -to the end of its means, and must on no account be suffered to drop -through. I was very glad of the seasonable supply.</p> - -<p>‘Now all the boys’ thoughts are turned to the reception of the -dear Barings. The Natives take the whole affair into their own -hands, I merely helping by paying for the refreshments. I see a -wooden arch in course of erection, and hundreds—perhaps a thousand—little -earthen lamps cumbering our hall. Perhaps the Bishops -wondered what all those funny little concerns could be for. There -are to be fireworks too; but I have nothing to do with either illumination -or fireworks.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Before the end of November Mr. and Mrs. Baring -arrived, to be received lovingly by Charlotte Tucker, and -enthusiastically, not by the boys alone, or even by the -Christians alone, but by many of the people of Batala. -On the 9th of December a letter went from Mrs. Baring -home:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">My dear Mrs. Hamilton</span>,—I have but few uninterrupted -minutes, but long to send you at least a few lines, to assure you that -your beloved sister is well. She gave us a most delightful welcome; and -a very great joy it is to be with her. I thought her looking extremely -white and thin, although not lacking in her wonted energy, when we -first came. Now I think she is looking a little better; and we shall -tenderly watch over her, and cherish her, so far as she will allow us; -but I assure you it is very hard work to persuade her to reduce her -work, or to increase her nourishment. I see that my best plan is -quietly to put things in her way that may be strengthening, but not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span> -to trouble her by <em>pressing</em>; and to ensure soups, puddings, etc., -being all thoroughly nutritious, so that the amount she does take -may all do her real good. And as to the work, I hope she will -gradually let me have part of it, leaving herself more time for -writing.</p> - -<p>‘You will be pleased to see how the people love and honour her. -The tahsildar<a name="FNanchor_98" id="FNanchor_98"></a><a href="#Footnote_98" class="fnanchor">[98]</a> came one day to see us; and reverently bowing his -head before her, he asked her to lay her hand upon it, and pray for -him,—which she did, most earnestly asking that Heavenly light might -be poured into his soul. I think she is very wise in her dealings with -the Christians, but is apt to over-estimate some of the heathen,—and -to cast precious “pearls before swine,” at too great an expense of her -own time and strength. However, I am perhaps mistaken about -this. We must pray that <em>all</em> her loving efforts may be abundantly -blessed, and that she may be allowed the joy of seeing some fruit of -her city labours. Among the boys she has been <em>much</em> blessed. I -hope to write often, if you will kindly excuse my notes being hurried. -Much love to dear Leila. Kindest remembrances to Mr. Hamilton.— -Ever yours lovingly,</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Margaret</span>.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>One little touch of depression had appeared a few weeks -earlier, in a letter written before the visit of the Bishops, -wherein Miss Tucker alluded to a slight sketch or account -of herself which had been inserted in a Missionary periodical. -The tone of sadness was probably due to those -long city labours, spoken of by Mrs. Baring, so few results -of which could then be detected.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Nov. 16, 1881.</i>— ... Last Sunday was my sixth <em>Indian</em> birthday; -it fell on a Sunday, like my natural one. In 1880 I felt joyous on my -Indian birthday. Somehow or other I had quite a different sensation -this year. I felt so dissatisfied with myself,—my work seemed all -sowing, and never reaping! Oh, what a false impression the —— -gives of me! And Miss —— never published my refutation.... -Do you remember the noble lines in “Camoens”—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse indent12">‘“Praise misapplied</div> -<div class="verse">Is to the generous mind not callous grown</div> -<div class="verse">A burning cautery.”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>‘I do not mean that I am burnt; but I feel like one breathing an -unwholesome, sickly odour. Here is the Bishop of Calcutta wanting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span> -to see me; he has probably been reading some painted description, -and imagines me a highly capable and successful Missionary. O -dear! O dear! If Miss —— had only published my honest, blunt -letter!’</p> - -</div> - -<p>For once in this little fit of down-heartedness, she seems -to have somewhat lost her usual balanced view of the -comparative unimportance of seemingly successful ‘results.’ -But if in all these years of toil Charlotte Tucker had -never known depression, she would have been more than -human. Even her brave and dauntless spirit had -occasionally to pass under a cloud; more often, as years -passed on, and strength decayed. This time it had been -a very slight one; and the coming of her two dear friends -had brought bright sunshine into her life.</p> - -<p>Early in the next year another letter went to Mrs. -Hamilton from the bride:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Jan. 21, 1882.</i></p> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Dearest Mrs. Hamilton</span>,—I often want to have a chat with -you,—<em>so</em> often! But now how impossible it is to go to the bright, -home-like drawing-room at Leinster Square to have it! I must -therefore just be content with pen and ink.</p> - -<p>‘Your own beloved one writes so regularly that you hear all Batala -news; but you do not, I fancy, hear much about her own dear self. -She had certainly overdone before we came, and naturally, after six -years of such continuous effort, in a climate such as this, she looks -aged; but she is really just as full of brightness as ever, and her -spirit is unflagging in its loving efforts for all around her. It is -indeed a privilege and joy to have her here. Just at present she has -a troublesome cold, caught by going out in the foggy morning of -last week; but I trust it will soon yield to remedies. She is cosily -resting in an arm-chair by the log-fire beside me, and has allowed -me to take a little care of her to-day. The Native doctor comes -every day to see the boys; so if anything is wrong with her we have -him upstairs, to have a chat and prescribe. He is a very superior -man, and she has great confidence in him.</p> - -<p>‘She will have told you of the possibility of a Mrs. R. coming -out to join us as a Medical Bible-woman.... Not only would she -be very useful in the Zenanas, and in taking care of the little boys,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span> -but also in taking a look-out for our dear one when we are absent.... -My husband thinks of adding a room and dressing-room to The -Aloes for Mrs. R. if she comes; so she would be quite near us.... -Dinner is announced, so I must say farewell. The dear Auntie -kindly consents to let a little low table be drawn close to the fire in -the drawing-room for her to-day, as the dining-room is very cold in -this weather....</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">C. M. T. TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Jan. 23, 1882.</i></p> - -<p>‘It was rather naughty in Margaret to tell you that I had a cold; -I did not know that she would be such a blab! However, she is not -an easy person to be angry with. I think that dear kind Doctor, -B. D., is quite pleased with me. He thinks that I have done -more in the way of getting well in twenty-four hours than I should -have done in a week had I been a Zenana lady, because I should not -have obeyed him. The Natives are so very lazy about anything in -illness which involves any trouble.... Dear Margaret and Francis -take great care of me,—coddle me!’ (Then comes a pleased -reference to the thought of the Medical Bible-woman for the next -cold weather.) ‘It was such an utterly unexpected thing.... It is -so nice to meet with a servant of a true Missionary spirit. Of course -she will need taking care of herself. I told Francis that he should -calculate on her <em>pankah</em> costing £5 a year. I do not need as much -fanning as some Europeans do; but I count my pankah as that -expense; and it would be folly to grudge it. You see, in the Panjab, -if you wish to sleep at night, you must have a pankah in the hot -weather even at midnight, unless you can sleep in the open air,—which -I find impracticable in a boys’ school; and I do not see how -good Mrs. R. could manage it....</p> - -<p>‘Aunt L.’s book is very amusing, even to a grown-up person; -there is such vigour in the attitudes, and the colouring is just suited -for Orientals. I think of taking it with me when I pay my long-promised -visit to Clarkabad. I hope to invade the heathen there -and not confine myself—please God—to the Christian village. I feel -a special interest in Clarkabad, on account of my dear Rowland. The -lovely little gem of a church, partly the work of his own hands, gives -a charm to the spot. Now the presence of the excellent Beutels will -add to it.</p> - -<p>‘I expect to find some of the flock very troublesome folk; but that -is what Missionaries must expect. These big brown families have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[353]</a></span> -their prodigals and sloths and backsliders. What is to be expected -from those who have had so little light for generation after generation? -We should hail every symptom of improvement. The -European idea of a Missionary standing under a tree, preaching,—and -numbers listening, understanding, and welcoming the Word of -Life,—is often a fancy picture, or gives a most imperfect view of the -truth. The seeking to <em>win</em> souls is but one part of the real work.</p> - -<p>‘Only think what a regular workshop of thought has been going -on in the heads of such men as —— and ——. <em>A.</em> is weak; how is -he to be shielded from temptation? <em>B.</em> is a stupid, lazy fellow; how -is he to be made to work? What is to be done about <em>C.</em>‘s heathen -wife? Are not <em>D.</em>‘s children growing up like weeds? Can we -manage to find employment for <em>E.</em> or a Christian wife for <em>F.</em>? It is -this “care of the Churches” which was a burden to St. Paul, and I -suppose has been a burden to most of his most earnest successors. -It is not a thing to tell in a Report, or to draw out enthusiasm in a -Missionary meeting. But we know, darling, that if a farmer went -over a huge field, simply scattering grain, perhaps on ground even -unploughed, and then went home, quite sure that all would go right, -that he had only to go on for ever sowing and a harvest would -certainly rise, he would hardly be likely to garner a crop.... <em>One</em> -such matured, ripened Convert as —— is worth a hundred of those -whose conduct shows that they hardly deserve the name of Christians.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>In the course of this January she wrote lovingly to her -sister: ‘It touched my heart that you should have had -“grief” in your dreams about parting again with your -Char! The wrench of saying “Farewell” is what one -cannot help shrinking from.’</p> - -<p>But despite the pain of long separation from those -whom she most loved, and despite many cares and -anxieties this year in her work, Miss Tucker still kept her -health. Mrs. Baring, writing early in February, could -say: ‘I am so very glad to be able to assure you that -your precious sister is much better, really looking well; -though perhaps not quite so strong as in the days when -she could easily outstrip me in a walk, or work from 4 <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span> -to 10 <span class="smcapuc">P.M.</span> without feeling very tired.’ Few women at -their strongest could emulate such a day’s work, and not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span> -feel ‘very tired’ at the end. It is hardly surprising that -at the age of sixty she should not continue ‘<em>quite</em> so -strong.’</p> - -<p>Money for the proposed Church had been flowing in; -yet still it was not begun. ‘We have been, I think,’ Miss -Tucker wrote, ‘for nearly two and a half years trying to -buy a good site, but the Natives will not sell one to us. -We cannot build on air. We have the money—and the -will to buy—but we must wait God’s time.’ A little -hospital also was planned, but the same difficulties presented -themselves as to a suitable site, and delays were -unavoidable.</p> - -<p>Here comes a melancholy little touch of the sad side -of Missionary work—that side which must inevitably -exist in everything belonging to this world:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘Perhaps you sometimes wonder at my so often making the special -request for prayer for <em>wisdom</em>. But oh, love, if you knew the puzzling -cases which meet us! I observe that experienced and sensible -Natives are taken in; so can we wonder at being so? I will just -give you a specimen case where we have <em>not</em> been taken in, because -warned in time. I have not even seen the woman in question; I -suppose that the parties found out that we have had notice.... A -woman professes, I hear, to be an inquirer. She wishes baptism. -Why? A Muhammadan man is at the bottom of her inclination -towards Christianity. The woman is of low caste, so that the man -would be degraded by marrying her, as he desires to do. Let her -become a Christian,—that will be a kind of white-washing for her,—she -will be received amongst us, be able to eat with us, etc. <em>Then</em> -the Muhammadan is to pervert her to the faith of Islam, and gain -credit for converting a Christian, instead of disgrace for marrying a -Mitrani.<a name="FNanchor_99" id="FNanchor_99"></a><a href="#Footnote_99" class="fnanchor">[99]</a> ... We hope for more than twenty baptisms in C——, -but Francis is in no hurry to baptize, nor I to write to Miss —— -about our hopes. I think that I have gained more experience in -this my seventh year than any other; and dear Francis has also -greatly added to his. One of the parts of this experience is the -finding out our need of wisdom from above. Only God knows the -heart! Do not suppose me dismayed, or that I cease to value the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[355]</a></span> -dear Natives; but it is almost sad to me to see that self-confidence -which often arises from lack of experience.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Miss Tucker might well have said ‘very’ instead of -‘almost’ sad. Certain words in a letter of Mrs. Baring’s -to Mrs. Hamilton, soon after, are something of an echo -to the above:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘The blessing she (Miss Tucker) is among those Christian boys is -incalculable. Perhaps Eternity will show even more fruit from her -bright, loving, holy influence over them, than over the people in the -city. They are more able to appreciate her character and teaching -than the poor degraded heathen, to whom she is much more like an -angel afar off and above them, than a sister-woman whom they may -seek to follow and grow like.</p> - -<p>‘She does love the boys, and is in her element among them; and -they have one and all a chivalrous admiration for her. These years -in India have taught her some things, I can see. Formerly her -purse was open to every one; now she has the same generous spirit, -guided by caution and experience. This winter’s painful lessons in -the fallibility of our best Native Christians have been to her a very sore -discipline, and to us too; but it is really safer for us all to know -exactly how far we dare trust, than to be thinking those saints who -are very far from it.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>A touching little episode about this time is related -in letters from both A. L. O. E. and Mrs. Baring. The -latter had been much grieved by quarrelling in one of -the Muhammadan schools; and she told her Pandit or -teacher about it. He was a Sikh, who knew much of -Christianity, though not yet a Convert. The kind words -which came in answer were certainly not what might -have been expected from a heathen. ‘But do not be sad -in heart,’ urged the Pandit. Satan is strong, but God -is stronger. He will hear your prayers.’ The speaker -could surely have been heathen only in name.</p> - -<p>In the end of May it became needful for Mr. and Mrs. -Baring to go to a cooler spot, leaving Miss Tucker in -charge at Batala,—once more to be the only European in -that city. It seemed no great matter to her, and she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[356]</a></span> -wrote as usual very cheerily about it beforehand. Little -dreamt she that this was to be a final parting; that she -and her beloved ‘Queen Lily’—her ‘Angel-friend’—would -never meet again in this life!</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>May 20, 1882.</i>—The day after to-morrow my dear friends are to -leave me for the Hills. You must not be sad about it, for I am quite -happy; indeed, it will be rather a comfort to me for them to go, sweet -as is their society, and valuable as is their affection. Francis stands -heat so very badly.... Margaret too loses her pretty pink roses, -and gets so tired when she goes to the city. On the other hand, <em>I</em> -am far fitter for work than in winter.... It is a mistake in kind -friends to pity me, or think about <em>sacrifices</em> on my part, for the lines -have fallen to me in a fair ground. Of course, we have things to -trouble us; but the blessings far, far outweigh the trials.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>May 23.</i>—Dear Francis and Margaret started last night, the -young May moon and the stars shining beautifully. It was a -picturesque scene. The carriage had a lamp within it, as well as one -or two outside; the light gleamed on our crowd of boys and men, -mostly in white garments. Loud was the cheer when our dear ones -drove off....</p> - -<p>‘Well, love, I and our boys returned to Anarkalli. I did not feel -lonely. I went to bed under the swinging pankah; and was ere -long wrapped in repose. O what a startling waking at about 3 <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span> -What an uproar!—what a fierce sound of struggle breaks on the -silence of night,—the call for help—the whack of blows,—it reaches -Babu Singha’s ears at the Banyans, and brings him in haste from his -bed,—but not till the conflict is over. I start up, and am at the -window in a minute; but the moon has gone down; there is only -starlight; nothing can I see, though much can I hear. I recognise -the loud, manly voice of G., our Christian bihisti.<a name="FNanchor_100" id="FNanchor_100"></a><a href="#Footnote_100" class="fnanchor">[100]</a> I think that -he is catching a thief, and that the thief has the worst of it. Of course, -boys and men come running. I hear a call for rope,—yes, certainly -a thief must have been caught.</p> - -<p>‘Presently a wee light is brought. I can see, almost below my -window, an object crouching on the ground, surrounded by our -people. They have bound him; they are examining his face. There -is a great deal of noise and talking for twenty minutes or more; -and then the robber is evidently led away, and I retire again to rest.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[357]</a></span> -My heart beat no faster, but it certainly would have beaten faster, -had I known the extent of dear, brave G.’s danger. When I came -down in the morning, there was the robber, in iron fetters, with -his face all marked with blood,—with the police around. He was -crouching on the ground, a picture of a ruffian, a miserable ruffian.</p> - -<p>‘Babu Singha told me that there had been <em>five</em> burglars; but only -two had ventured near the house. Our chaukidar<a name="FNanchor_101" id="FNanchor_101"></a><a href="#Footnote_101" class="fnanchor">[101]</a> ... gave the -alarm. G. rushed to the rescue, and he and B. between them, -with some help from the dhobi,<a name="FNanchor_102" id="FNanchor_102"></a><a href="#Footnote_102" class="fnanchor">[102]</a> succeeded in catching the robber; -but not without G. receiving hurts from his heavy stick. Babu -Singha told me that the robber is a very powerful man. But, oh -Laura, what gave me the greatest feeling of the danger G. had -been in, was being shown the razor which the robber had had about -him. It had been dropped. Thank God, <em>that</em> had not been used; -indeed, I do not think that the ruffian had been given time to use it. -If he had, he might have killed G....’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Two months of busy work followed; towards the close -of which came another adventure,—a robber again, but -this time one on four legs instead of two.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>July 18, 1882.</i>—Our palace was invaded by a wild cat. She -caught a poor pigeon in the south room, carried it through the -dining-room into my room, and left its half-eaten remains on my -floor. Another time she had the impertinence to crouch on -sleeping C.<a name="FNanchor_103" id="FNanchor_103"></a><a href="#Footnote_103" class="fnanchor">[103]</a> A wild cat is not a pleasant visitor; her mode -of attack, if incensed, being to spring at the throat. So I set a -price, a moderate one, on the wild cat’s head. She came again,—she -was sure to do so to a house where boys keep pets, and where -she had already captured a pigeon. At night I heard a battle-royal -going on over my head. I did not rise; I guessed that there was a -furious conflict between the boys and the wild cat. On the following -morning I saw the animal lying dead, and paid the reward.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>A few days more, and the bolt fell. News came that -Mrs. Baring was ill; and that her husband, away from her -at the time, had hastened back, to find her in a high fever. -Then a rather better report arrived; and Charlotte Tucker -was so far cheered as to write to Mrs. Hamilton in much -her usual strain, hoping that it might prove to be ‘only a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[358]</a></span> -passing indisposition.’ Before this letter was closed, -tidings were received that all was over. Erysipelas had -set in, the fair face becoming unrecognisable, and with -little warning the gentle saint, so ready to go, had passed -away. It was a very heavy blow; and though Miss Tucker, -as usual, thought far more of what others felt than of what -she felt herself, the letters written afterwards show how -much she suffered:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Aug. 9.</i>—I feel as if I did not care to write much save on one -theme. The enclosed letters, which you will read, will give you -particulars of the sad, sad event, which must have shocked you much.... -How little I dreamed, when I saw the two driven off in the dâk-gari, -while the moonlight fell on the picturesque scene, that one, -and that the stronger one, ... would never return to Batala again! -But the dear Lord knew that she was ready. He does not call His -children to mount up as on eagles’ wings till the wings are fledged.</p> - -<p>‘This is the saddest year that I have ever passed in India....’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Aug. 11, 1882.</i>—My dearest Leila, I doubt not that both you and -your loved Mother have shed tears over sweet, sweet Margaret’s loss,—or -rather, our loss,—and that you have tenderly sympathised both -with my poor Bhatija and with me. This has been a year of successive -trials, not only to us but to others in the Mission field,—a time to -make us search our hearts and examine our work. It seems almost -as if my two Scripture texts at present are, “Faint, yet pursuing,”—and -“Lord, we have toiled all night, and caught nothing, yet at <em>Thy</em> -Word we will let down the net.” ...</p> - -<p>‘It seems such an age before I can get a reply to any letter -addressed to Francis. Time goes <em>so</em> slowly now! It is only a week -to-day since I received the startling news.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The especial trials referred to, apart from the death of -Mrs. Baring, were numerous difficulties and disappointments -among and with the members of their little flock -of Indian Christians. One trouble had followed upon -the heels of another.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[359]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="II_CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1882-1883<br /> -THE FIRST STONE OF BATALA CHURCH</span></h3> - -<p>About the middle of August Miss Tucker went for change -to Allahabad; and very soon after her arrival she was able -to speak of herself as ‘less tired’ than before leaving -Batala; despite two nights of severe travelling, inclusive -of sixteen hours straight off in her duli. ‘The change of -air already tells on my bodily frame,’ she wrote; ‘and the -change of scene on my mind and spirits.... I was becoming -low in every way.’ Before the end of September she was -back again in Batala; and there she was soon joined by -Mr. Baring, after his most sad absence. For a while, but -only for a while, Batala was still to be his home.</p> - -<p>In October for the first time the idea came definitely up -of building a ‘Mission Bungalow’ in the place, an idea -which afterwards developed into A. L. O. E.’s last earthly -home.</p> - -<p>It was also in the course of 1882 that some one wrote a -sketch of her life, and requested her to revise the same -before publication. Miss Tucker had not attained to -modern composure on such questions, and she wrote with -indignation: ‘I am afraid ... neither you nor others may -like my note to ——.... I need not dwell upon the part -about the little book; it is too personal to myself. What -would you think of a little book being written about -yourself,—and sent to you to <em>correct</em>? Oh! Oh!! Oh!!!’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[360]</a></span></p> - -<p>For some time past Charlotte Tucker had been watching -with great interest the movements of the Salvation Army -in India; at first with a disposition to admire and approve, -which tendency gave place gradually to strong disapproval, -as she saw more of the methods employed, and -found the exceedingly defective nature of the religious -teaching given.</p> - -<p>Some very curious glimpses of Indian modes of life and -thought, and of the manner in which Miss Tucker dealt -with them, appear in the letters of 1882 and 1883, as will -be seen in succeeding extracts. Among the singular things -constantly happening, an old woman in a Zenana, at -about this time, composedly offered to <em>sell</em> to A. L. O. E. -one of her daughters-in-law. ‘If you will give me a -hundred rupees, you may have her,’ the old woman said -frankly. Needless to remark, Miss Tucker did not buy -the poor girl!</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Nov. 17, 1882.</i>—I had, I thought, finished my Zenana-visiting -to-day, when a man, at a loom in a room which I had not entered, -called out to me, “I wish a Gospel. I want to compare it with the -Koran.” He and the bibi wanted me to come into their room; so -of course I went and sat down. Says the man, “I think my -religion good. I want to compare our books.” “Much better,” said I. -The man brought his Koran, a translation into Urdu, probably made -by some Christian, or at least printed in some Christian press. The -good man treated me to such a long reading of the Koran, page after -page, I did not know when he would stop! I felt it not only common -politeness to sit and listen attentively, but good policy also, for how -can I expect an earnest Muhammadan to give the Gospel a fair hearing, -if I will not even listen to the Koran?</p> - -<p>‘The man was anxious that I should understand as well as hear, -stopping every now and then to translate a word that he thought -might puzzle me. But the Urdu was particularly simple for anything -doctrinal. To understand anything doctrinal, even such sermons as -I hear, it is absolutely necessary to know <em>some</em> Arabic words. I have -written out more than two hundred,—chiefly Arabic,—<em>all</em> beginning -with M, and mostly three-syllabled words, which I feel that I ought -to know; yet they are hardly of any use with women; and if I have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[361]</a></span> -them all at my fingers’ ends, I shall still be very imperfectly furnished. -Is it not a puzzling language? Of course, some of these two hundred -words are provokingly similar to each other, but the meaning is -different.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>In the same letter she mentions a visit from the Indian -Christian Faqir, M., who a quarter of a century before -had given up a lucrative situation, and ever since had -wandered about India, preaching the Gospel. On 20th -November the same subject recurs:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘His type of devotion is thoroughly <em>Hindu</em>, transfigured into Christianity.... -One part of our conversation, however, amused me.... -It was when we came on the subject of celibacy. The Hindu -evidently thought it better than marriage. He seemed to regard it -as an objection to the latter, that when a husband lost his wife he -would cry for two or three days!—the Faqir’s<a name="FNanchor_104" id="FNanchor_104"></a><a href="#Footnote_104" class="fnanchor">[104]</a> religion is a very -joyful one, and when his eyes moisten it is with religious emotion. -I stood up for marriage. The dear man is no stern ascetic; he -smiled and half gave way, and said that he liked people to be happy. -It is pretty clear, however, as regards himself that it is better for him -to be unwedded. He walks long distances; sometimes forty—fifty—sixty—miles. -He says that he is not so strong as he was. But he -thinks nothing of age; the spirit never grows old.... M.’s voice is -peculiar; one could always tell without seeing him whether he were -in chapel or not; for his “Amen” sounds like a note from a bassoon.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Nov. 21, 1882.</i>—While it is fresh in my mind I had better give you -a description of our grand day, the laying of the first stone of our -Church by the Lieutenant-Governor....</p> - -<p>‘Since the old days of the Sikhs I doubt whether Batala ever saw -such a tamasha. Numbers and numbers of boys were gathered together -by dear Francis, lining the roads, and cheering. Gay looked -the many-coloured turbans. Mr. Wade thought there must be about -one thousand boys, for we had Government School, City School, our -Village Schools, and our own boys. We had a fine triumphal arch at -the opening into our grounds, with “Welcome” in gold on scarlet; but it -was far surpassed by the lovely one in Persian Urdu, prepared by our -boys for the Church site: “Him that cometh to Me, I will in no wise -cast out.” Dear Emily Wauton came and helped us greatly; she -specially took the luncheon-table under her care; and very elegant -it looked, with the cold collation, and plenty of flowers from Amritsar.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[362]</a></span> -My bedroom overlooks our front door, so in this room our three -<i lang="hi">pardah-nishin</i> were hidden.... I dare say that these poor prisoners<a name="FNanchor_105" id="FNanchor_105"></a><a href="#Footnote_105" class="fnanchor">[105]</a> -of pardah specially enjoyed what was to them so novel. The good -Lieutenant-Governor was more than punctual; a happy thing, as we -had much for him to do, and only about an hour and a half to do it in. -He brought with him his daughter, a winsome young maiden, ... -whom I called “dear” before we parted. I liked the Lieutenant-Governor -very much; a man of fine presence but simple manners....</p> - -<p>‘The luncheon was preceded by the reading by one of the Batala -non-Christian magnates of an address, emblazoned with gold; other -Batala folk, some in very grand dresses, standing in line. The -Lieutenant-Governor gave a reply in English, which I doubt whether -many understood. Then we went to our collation; fifteen sat -down.... You should have seen our servant ——; he was quite -magnificent. He had on such a gold-adorned pagri that it might -have graced the head of a rajah, and had as much gold on his dress. -I did not think that he looked like a Missionary’s servant, but we left -him to enjoy his splendour. I had thought, darling, whether I should -wear <em>your</em> silk dress:<a name="FNanchor_106" id="FNanchor_106"></a><a href="#Footnote_106" class="fnanchor">[106]</a> but no, thought I; in my Batala I will <em>not</em> -wear silken attire; so I wore my Laura’s purple, which was just the -thing, sober and handsome. The collation went over nicely; we -could not linger at it long, and no one could drink too much, as water -was our beverage. After seeing the view from the roof, we started -in the borrowed carriages for the Church. The first carriage, which -held the Aitchesons, Mera Bhatija, and myself, had highly conservative -horses, decidedly opposed to progress. No use coaxing and -urging them; the “nat-khats” <em>would not</em> go. The only thing was to -get out and go into another carriage.</p> - -<p>‘Of course, there were many people at the site of our church. We -had four surpliced clergymen, my three nephews, Francis, Mr. Wade, -and Mr. Weitbrecht, and Nobin Chanda.<a name="FNanchor_107" id="FNanchor_107"></a><a href="#Footnote_107" class="fnanchor">[107]</a> ... The religious Service -was very nice; of course, in Urdu. Then Sir Charles<a name="FNanchor_108" id="FNanchor_108"></a><a href="#Footnote_108" class="fnanchor">[108]</a> spread mortar -over the place on which the marble block was to descend, in what was -considered a very workmanlike manner. We sang “The Church’s -One Foundation” in Urdu; Mr. Weitbrecht’s and Mr. Wade’s fine -voices making it sound so well. Sir Charles made such a nice -religious speech; it was almost like a little Missionary address. <em>He</em> -had had, he said, a very private conversation for an hour with a -Native of distinction, who was in concern about his soul; and it -ended by the Native saying that he had sometimes prayed to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[363]</a></span> -Lord Jesus, but would now pray to Him <em>every day</em>. Thank God for -a Lieutenant-Governor who thus shows his Christian colours!</p> - -<p>‘We drove to the station, after again forsaking the carriage drawn -by the “nat-khats.”<a name="FNanchor_109" id="FNanchor_109"></a><a href="#Footnote_109" class="fnanchor">[109]</a> Sir Charles made me come into the railway -carriage, to see its comfortable arrangements. Thoughtful Francis -had caused tea and cake to be taken to the station. All went off so -nicely; and my dear Bhatija feels that he has not had his labour -and expense for nothing.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Nov. 28.</i>—In three days I am to go up to Amritsar, ... where I am -to sleep on that Friday night.... By some afternoon train I shall -probably then go to Lahore.... On Sunday there are to be special -services for the Conference, and Holy Communion is to be administered; -a meet commencement for a gathering together of sisters -from nine different Societies. But Char has a special interest of her -own. We have at least a dozen of those who were Batala boys at -Lahore.... I have arranged that my boys should meet me on -Sunday afternoon. This is to me one of the most interesting -parts of my visit to Lahore.... I have been obliged to prepare -two little papers, but have made them mercifully short. I think that -one takes about five and the other three minutes to read aloud,—I -timed the reading,—so no one will have time to be tired.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Of the above event Miss Wauton says: ‘In 1882 she -came to a Conference in Lahore, in which all the Zenana -Missions of the Panjab were represented, and was with one -consent elected President of the Meetings. None who were -present could ever forget the tactful, graceful way in which -she conducted the proceedings. Many, I believe, felt that -the harmonious spirit, which prevailed in that assembly, -was largely due to the loving and Catholic spirit of our -President.’</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Dec. 15, 1882.</i>—I have written to the ——s about the Salvation -Meeting at Lahore, at which I was present. I have not told them, -however, how sad an impression it left on my mind.... To <em>me</em> -there was no real joyousness in the sound of the drum and the tambourines.... -The puzzle is to me how such music <span class="smcapuc">CAN</span> be the -means of converting any, unless it be English roughs. X.<a name="FNanchor_110" id="FNanchor_110"></a><a href="#Footnote_110" class="fnanchor">[110]</a> was -eager to join the “Army,” and go with them for a month to Calcutta. -But he went to the meetings, and his wish appears to have evaporated;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[364]</a></span> -at least here he is.... The prevailing feeling in my heart (at the -meeting) was—<em>pity</em>. Though I knelt, I really <em>could</em> not pray. The -big drum and tambourines seemed to silence any whisper of real -devotion in my soul.... I think that I have just ascertained one -thing which has cooled our really devout X. It appears that he -asked ——<a name="FNanchor_111" id="FNanchor_111"></a><a href="#Footnote_111" class="fnanchor">[111]</a> about Holy Communion, and found that he had not -received it since coming to India! Alas! alas! and if he lets -Natives consider themselves saved and sure of Heaven without -Baptism,—where will all end? The Blessed Saviour’s two clear -commands neglected! And —— just killing himself to introduce such -a mere—one almost fears—shadow of religion! It is just grievous! -How inconceivably artful the Enemy is!’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Dec. 21.</i>—I paid a visit to a village to-day. I first went to the -school, then paid my respects to the lady of the place.... She -showed me into a pretty bare room,—a chair was brought for me -afterwards. But I thought little about the room; its strange -occupants attracted my attention. I seemed transported into the -Middle Ages, and found myself amongst the retainers of some bold -baron,—men who looked like the stuff out of which freebooters are, -or were, made. There were four powerful men, with four falcons; -and the hoods of the falcons were grand. I suspect that they were -valuable birds, used for hunting.</p> - -<p>‘I had an animated conversation with these burly fellows—not the -birds, but the men—if that could be called a conversation, where the -talking was almost entirely on one side. I had my Parable of the -Two Paths with me, and spoke very plainly about Paradise and Hell;—and -they listened to the old lady with perfect good-humour. I -dare say that the bold falconers were rather surprised to find such -an apparition in the village; for they seemed to have nothing to do -with Batala, where of course my face is very familiar.</p> - -<p>‘As I was returning in my little duli, I saw a bullock-cart in front, -with a kind of red, dome-shaped vehicle on it, which of course contained -some pardah-lady, perhaps a bride. I noticed that the -curtain was drawn back. Probably the prisoned inmate of the red -cage had caught sight of the duli, and was curious to see its -occupant. As my kahars went faster than the bullocks, I passed the -red cage, and a bright jewel-bedizened lady—smiling, as if amused at -seeing a white woman—exchanged brief glances with me. I thought -her a pretty creature. I wonder what she thought of the old lady -who smiled at her.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> - -<img src="images/illus3.jpg" width="350" height="450" alt="A head and shoulders photo of Miss Tucker" /> - -<p class="caption"><i>Taken at Amritsar about 1882</i></p> - -<p class="caption"><i>F. Jenkins Heliog Paris</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[365]</a></span></p> - -<p>The New Year begins with a line from Mrs. Wade to -Mrs. Hamilton, in reference to the recent Conference:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Amritsar</span>, <i>New Year’s Day, 1883</i>.</p> - -<p>‘I wish you could have seen dear Miss Tucker as President of our -Lahore Ladies’ Conference. She did all so perfectly; one only -feared her being over tired, but I think she is stronger than she was -some months ago. We had the pleasure of her staying a night with -us on her way; and her walking powers are wonderful! You will -no doubt have a report of the Conference, and of her solemn and -helpful words on John xiii., as it is to be printed in England.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Although Mrs. Wade could speak of her ‘walking -powers’ as ‘wonderful,’ Miss Tucker had at this period -hardly the same unvarying good health as in earlier years. -A few days later she was laid by with an attack of -‘shingles,’ with pain in the side. The Native doctor, -called in, informed her that nothing was wrong with -either lungs or heart,—the pain which troubled her being -‘simply from the nerves,’ which were ‘affected by the -eruption.’ Miss Tucker assured him that she was not -nervous. Upon which, as she relates, ‘the Hindu doctor -smiled quietly, and gave me to understand that nerves are -real things. He had not meant that I was fanciful. So -the whole thing was simple enough,’ she philosophically -adds. ‘To make a bull, I had a little toothache in my -side.’ The attack gave way readily.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Jan. 25, 1883.</i>—One is so apt to feel for the poor, down-trodden -Muhammadan women, that, until I began to read a novelette -written by a Native, I had no idea how they sometimes turn the -tables on their husbands. I am reading the book with N. N., who -quite confirms the truthfulness of the picture. It appears that a -woman will sometimes be asked a question ten times by her husband, -before she vouchsafes an answer. Some women burn the soles of -their shoes, and make a preparation of them to put on the eyes, -believing that by this strange superstitious means they will always -keep their husbands <em>under their feet</em>! With all the talk about -Woman’s Rights, we have hardly got so far as this!’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[366]</a></span></p><div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Feb. 20.</i>—Mera Bhatija and I took rather a long walk this afternoon, -to look at a lovely little mosque. I had said before to Francis, -“How is it that the mosques are so beautiful, and our churches -here—unless expensively built—so ugly?” Francis gave me a -simple but good reason: “We want people to go <em>into</em> our churches; -the Muhammadans worship outside theirs.” You see, love, we have -first to think of room and comfort; so beauty gets shoved into a -corner.</p> - -<p>‘We went to look more closely at the graceful mosque, to see if we -could gain hints. I made a rough sketch of the front. Francis says -that it would be much too expensive for us to have anything so -ornamental. We want room for one hundred people at least; and -that dot of a mosque would hold comparatively very few. Mera -Bhatija thinks that we might indulge in two minarets, and ornament -our church with clay vessels turned upside down, and painted white, -with a little Cross on the top of each. We must have a good-sized -Cross, gilt, to glitter in the sun, on the top of all.... The Cross is -our Banner, the Sign of Faith in the Son of God, rejected by -Muhammadan and Hindu! It should crown—and sparkle on, too—every -religious edifice in this land.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>March 8, 1883.</i>—I had an extraordinary conversation with a -Muhammadan boy to-day. His name is Y. He lives in what I -consider a nest of bigotry. I am more likely to have to dispute there -than in any other place in Batala. I had with me, besides my Bible, -the “Mirror of the Heart,” which contains beautifully coloured -pictures of the human heart, with allegorical vices represented by -various animals, the serpent, rat, etc. It is a valuable help to a -Missionary. The first heart is that of the natural man, before -repentance; the second, that of a man repenting. The fourth is a -horrid heart, of a dingy colour, with <em>a black cross</em> in it, and seven -devils, mounted on the bad emblems, wanting to get in. It is the -heart of a hypocrite. Well, dear one, I was showing this picture in a -Zenana, and a grave-looking boy, to whom before I had given a -portion of Scripture, and who I think once studied in our Mission-School, -Y., was close beside me. When I had gone over the -various pictures, I said to Y., “Which of these hearts,”—showing -the first and second,—“is like yours?” I meant, “Are you repenting -or unrepenting?” The boy, perhaps fourteen years of age, would -not agree that either was like his. To my surprise he made me turn -over to the fourth heart, and told me <em>that</em> was like his.</p> - -<p>‘“But it is not a Muhammadan’s heart,” said I. “You see the -Cross is in it,—but it is black.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[367]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘“And how do you know,” said the boy gravely, “<em>that the Cross -is not in my heart</em>?” I think that he repeated this touching question -afterwards. In short, he kept firmly to his declaration that <em>that</em> -heart was the one like his. What is passing in that lad’s soul? Does -he consider himself a hypocrite, with seven devils surrounding him? -If so, he must be a hypocrite as regards Muhammadanism?—for he -does not pretend to be a Christian. I suspect that this may be the -case. He <em>has</em> a cross, but it is a black one, because he does not -confess the Saviour.</p> - -<p>‘There is a great change in dear ——‘s mother. (You remember -perhaps the dear lad in a bigoted home, who so loved the Lord -Jesus, bore persecution for Him, and died in peace.) My last visit to -that house was so different to the first! On the first occasion I left -the place so shocked, that I uttered the exclamation as I went, -“God have mercy on you!” I do not think that I ever left any other -house with such an exclamation on my lips. The last time I left the -house with the exclamation, “God grant!” The mother had told -me the story of her eldest brother, a policeman, who, like her son, -had become Christian in heart, and incurred the fierce anger of -his father by speaking against Muhammad. A Suni<a name="FNanchor_112" id="FNanchor_112"></a><a href="#Footnote_112" class="fnanchor">[112]</a> had stabbed -the policeman in the side with a knife; but the Christian refused to -prosecute. He was very gentle, just like the nephew who followed -in his steps. The policeman left Lahore,—this was more than -twenty years ago,—and has never been heard of since. Probably he -is numbered in the noble army of martyrs.</p> - -<p>‘I said, “I think that both your brother and son are with the Lord -Jesus.” “<em>Without doubt!</em>” cried this once bigoted woman. I urged -her to follow them, and asked her if she had no love for the Lord in -her heart. “He is the Apple of my eye,” she replied. You must not -suppose, love, that there is any immediate prospect of Baptism; but -I talked to her about it; and, as I have mentioned, left the house -with a “God grant!”’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>March 24, 1883.</i>—We cannot see one step before us! I was -thinking to-day, as I was going to the City, where my work <em>seems</em> of so -little use, “Abraham had to wait for twenty years before God kept -His promise to him.” Perhaps it may be twenty years before the -promise is fulfilled—fully—to me, “Your labour is not vain in the Lord.”</p> - -<p>‘O the utter carelessness of some of the women, who will -interrupt the most solemn, heart-searching conversation with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[368]</a></span> -question about my dress, or a request for a pin. They seem so -utterly frivolous! Then those who do think, and have some concern -for religion, are such earnest Muhammadans; it is with them a -matter of <em>heart-love</em>! It is a mystery how it should be so, when -Muhammad was not only a murderer and profligate, but has lowered -woman altogether; but it seems especially the women who delight -in his false religion. They do not care for its having no proofs; -they <em>love</em> it.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>March 28.</i>—I had rather an interesting visit to-day, which you -may like to hear about.</p> - -<p>‘I went to the house of a Maulvi ... I had books to take to his -sweet young daughter; and soon I found that the ladies had gone to -a wedding; but as two servants were in the house, I thought it better -to stop and give the “good news” to them. Whether they cared -about it or not, I know not. After my interview with them, I was -about to leave, when who should come in but the master of the -house, the Maulvi himself. (He is not the same one who was so proud, -that I could not help an unpremeditated rebuke escaping from my -lips.) This Maulvi was fresh from a pilgrimage to Mecca; but the -merit ascribed to a Haji did not seem to make him proud at all.</p> - -<p>‘He courteously addressed me, sat down, and prepared for a -<i lang="fr">tête-à-tête</i> with the Englishwoman. He told me that he had none -of our books; that he wanted a controversial one, that he might -compare the two religions. There was no appearance of bigotry at -all. He asked me whether we read prayers. I told him that we not -only had regular prayer, but that we sang God’s praises,—which the -Muhammadans never do,—and opening my Bible, I read aloud -several passages in which Hasrat David (Saint David) commands us -to do so. My gentle Maulvi made no observation on this proof that -Christians pay more obedience than Muhammadans do to the commands -of one whom <em>both</em> acknowledge as a Prophet....</p> - -<p>‘Accompany me now to another Zenana. A young man showed -himself again and again, as if he wanted to take a share in conversation, -but did not at first see his way to doing so. At last he -told me that there was great excitement. I could not for some time -make out what it was about; it seemed to be about some birth; but -then it appeared to be about something else. At last the difficulty -cleared up. The young Muhammadan made me understand that it -was said that the Imam Mahdi had been born; and on account of -this there was great excitement in H—— and over the country.</p> - -<p>‘I said that I had heard about a man, calling himself the Mahdi,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[369]</a></span> -near Egypt. The young man did not seem to have an idea <em>where</em> -the long-expected Imam is, but he said that when the place should -be known all would go to see him. My curiosity was a little aroused. -I asked what the Mahdi was to do. “To reign over all kingdoms, and -make every one Muhammadan.” “But if they should not choose to -be Muhammadans?” “Oh, all will be Muhammadans.” “But if I -did not choose to be a Muhammadan, would he kill me?” “No, his -rule will be like that of the English.”</p> - -<p>‘I would not trust the Mahdi, however, nor that animated young -man! This was the only Zenana in which I have heard of the -Mahdi; and I have visited plenty. I had more talk with the -Muhammadan. I said that I thought that the Dajal was expected -to come before the Mahdi. No,—the Mahdi is to come first; then -the Dajal; and then Jesus Christ! It is curious to hear these ideas!’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>March 28.</i>—I almost think that the Muhammadans are stronger -in their bigotry, from an expectation of some coming event at the -coming Ramazan (great fast) in July. Perhaps, some of them think, -there will be great pestilence; perhaps Christ and the Mahdi will -come;—and the sun rise in the west instead of in the east. The -more intelligent do not seem to expect the last wonder.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>April 27.</i>—The beautiful monument which Francis is going to -place over the grave of sweet Margaret was sent here from Delhi. I -have sent a sketch of it to her sisters, and another to Mrs. Baring. -I did not find it so easy to draw as I expected, on account of the -perspective of the three white marble steps, which support the pure -white Cross.... How little we know who will be called! I -remember my pleading with her not to delay coming out, or she -might find a Cross instead of her friend. The white Cross has been -for her, not for me; and I see no likelihood at present of my soon -being called, though of course one never knows. I have seen so -many young pass away since I came to India.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>In the same letter she says with respect to the Baring -High School: ‘I hope and expect that our School has -reached its lowest ebb,—twenty-three boys, mostly little -ones. There is some likelihood of six more coming.’</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hamilton had begun to ask occasionally to her -house in London young Indians who had come to -England for a Western education. Some of them she saw -repeatedly, and reference is often made to them in letters.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[370]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">C. M. T. TO THE REV. W. F. T. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>June 19, 1883.</i></p> - -<p>‘Shortly after writing to your dear Mother, I had myself a visit -from a Muhammadan. I remembered what I had just been writing,<a name="FNanchor_113" id="FNanchor_113"></a><a href="#Footnote_113" class="fnanchor">[113]</a> -so soon plunged straight into the subject of religion. I had seen -Sheik A. twice before; and the first time had had a good talk. -Yesterday he listened very well, though I ventured to contrast -Muhammad a little with the Blessed One. Sheik A. agreed to his -wife visiting me here this evening,—I sending a duli for her, as she -is “pardah-nishin”; and as he is going to L——, he <em>asked</em> me for a -letter of introduction to some lady there, that she might visit his -wife. This was encouraging. Sheik A. took a cup of tea with me, -and we parted excellent friends. Perhaps a couple of hours afterwards -my dear Faqir, M., came to see me. He too had been -having an interview with Sheik A. “Much excitement,” said the -Faqir. I think that the Muhammadan had probably not been as -much on his good behaviour with the dark Madrassee as with the -white Englishwoman. There seemed to have been a hot discussion -below. Dear M. was inclined to reproach himself. “Harsh!—my -loud voice!” said he. Depend upon it, he went at his work like -a cannon. But all seemed to end well. I think he told me that -Sheik A. and he shook hands as they parted.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>July 21, 1883.</i></p> - -<p>‘How different it is writing a free and easy letter to you, from a -studied one like that to ——! I hope that my Laura will not consider -Char a conceited old woman, who likes no one to find fault with her -writings. But, you see, love, I know <em>nothing</em> of Mr. ——‘s capacity -to act as critic.... I cannot consent to walk in chains because -Mr. —— has a liberal hand and a full purse. I am so glad that I -refused pecuniary recompense. In writing I must be <em>free</em>. I hope -that I have not made a mistake in putting in as many proverbs as I -have done. It was difficult to select. How inappropriate—clever -as it is!—would it have been to put in such as this, “The sieve said -to the needle, You have a hole in your tail”!’ ...</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Aug. 4.</i>—Yes, love, I dare say that I was mistaken about your -entering on religious subjects soon with the young Indians. I often<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[371]</a></span> -doubt my own judgment. You see, it is a disadvantage to me -to have no one to correct me. This has been, I think, my most -lonely hot weather.</p> - -<p>‘I am thankful that I do not hold the doctrine of Perfectionism. -I should be very miserable if I did; for sometimes it seems to -me as if I went backwards instead of forwards. If I thought that -a real child of God ought to be perfect, I must come to the -conclusion that I at least am not a child of God. But I do not hold -this view, and I see that the holy Simeon wrote clearly and distinctly -against it.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Alexandra School, Amritsar</span>, <i>Aug. 15, 1883</i>.</p> - -<p>‘Here I am in this big palace, a good deal bigger than my Batala -one,—the guest of dear, loving Florrie.<a name="FNanchor_114" id="FNanchor_114"></a><a href="#Footnote_114" class="fnanchor">[114]</a> ...</p> - -<p>‘I have been taking my morning walk. I saw the old banyan in -the garden of what was my first Indian home with sweet Margaret. -The downward shoot which I named “Batala” has now the size of -the trunk of a tree.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>A visit of two or three weeks to her nephew at Dunga -Gully followed, where the children were a great enjoyment -to her, letters home being full of the pretty utterances of -little Tudor and Beryl. On the 15th of September, -however, she once more gaily reported herself as ‘back -again in dear old Batala!’ and again the steady round -of work went on as usual.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Sept. 19.</i>—A lady who knows a good deal about Muhammadanism, -and has read from the <cite>Hadis</cite> (Muhammadan traditions), told me -something very curious that she had come upon....</p> - -<p>‘There is a supposed prophecy of Muhammad, that in the latter -days a marvellous being, called Dajal, will appear. He will perform -marvels, bring a band of musicians, and whoever hears the enchanting -sound will follow him, leaving friends, parents, etc.... I, after -hearing this, inquired about Dajal from ——. He, having been a -learned Muhammadan, of course knew all about the prophecy.... -Dajal, who will become a king, is to have but one eye, and ride an -ass nine coss (about fourteen miles) long!... Dajal is supposed to -be an evil being, drawing downwards those whom he influences. -After him the Muhammadans expect the Imam Mahdi;—and then, -our Blessed Lord.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[372]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘What extraordinary ideas these people have of our Saviour! -They think that He never died, but was caught up to Heaven, and -some one else crucified in His stead. This is a true doctrine of the -devil, for of course it strikes against all belief in the Atonement. It -would drive us from the very key and central point of our faith. -Often have I tried to show how completely such a doctrine is against -prophecy. Well, dear, this is not all. The Muhammadans believe that -after our Lord comes again, <em>to convert the world to Muhammadanism</em>, -He will die! I have spoken with one who has actually <em>seen the place</em> -where <em>His future tomb</em> is to be at Medina! It is near Muhammad’s -grave, and is considered a very holy place. There is a handsome black -marble slab, bordered with white, and fine palings around.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS LEILA HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Sept. 24.</i></p> - -<p>‘I have started to-day a temporary drawing-class for the five poor -little boys who have to stay here all during the holidays. They -are so pleased. It was a pleasure to me to see them all seated, busy -with pencil and paper, instead of lounging about wearily. I did not -succeed in making them do a bit of carpentering for me.</p> - -<p>‘The drawing lesson was a lesson to me, dear. After my own -fashion, it seemed to me a type, and—strange as it may seem to you—a -type bearing on the disputed subject of perfection in this life. We -are all children,—the sooner we realise this, the better!—and the Lord -sets us a copy; not a poor little one, such as I placed before the boys, -but a perfect, exquisite one. Now, I imagine three of our boys drawing -as nicely as they can, and then coming to me with their copies.</p> - -<p>‘The first is very happy indeed. “It is quite perfect!” says he. -“My dear child, <em>you</em> may think so, but <em>I</em> do not think so. Take your -measuring paper, and go over your copy more carefully; and you -will see that not all the lines are straight.”</p> - -<p>‘The second comes to me, crying. “I shall never manage my -copy,” sighs he. “It is not a quarter as good as the picture, and yet -I took such pains!” “Yes, dear boy, I see that you have taken -pains; and that is all that I require. You will do better in time. -But dry your tears. Did you really think that I should be angry -with you, because your drawing is not perfect?”</p> - -<p>‘The third looks modestly into my face, to see if he has pleased me. -He knows that he has <em>tried</em> to please me; and though he has not -succeeded in making a perfect drawing, he <em>has</em> succeeded in pleasing.</p> - -<p>‘The third child is the one whom I should most wish to resemble. -He trusts me!’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[373]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Oct. 14, 1883.</i></p> - -<p>‘Do you ever note what is the first waking thought when consciousness -returns in the morning?... The other day my thought on -awakening was so very odd, that it made an impression by its very -strangeness. I could not imagine what could have put it into my -head, and you will smile when you read it. “<em>The snuffers were of -gold!</em>” I have not so much as seen snuffers since I came to India.... -Why on earth should my waking thought be of them? “Well,” considered -I, “snuffers are worthy of mention in the Bible; and those in -the Temple <em>were</em> of gold. What can I make out of this thought?”</p> - -<p>‘Then it occurred to me that the office of snuffers, humble enough, -being to make candles brighter, the office was emblematical perhaps -of that which St. Paul adjudged to the aged women. They were to -teach the young women to love their husbands, etc. At last I began -to think, darling, that perhaps my place in the Church here <em>is</em> a little -like that of a pair of snuffers; and now, when I feel that I ought to give -a little word in season to Native Christians, I fancy that I have to snuff -them—not <em>out</em>!—O no!—only to remove some little superfluity....</p> - -<p>‘I think I must have amused my Laura with my idea of the -snuffers; but it may be a useful thought to those who are no longer -young. A little gentle snuffing may be the work—unostentatious -work—given to us.... What a snip dear H. gave to W. long, long -ago, and how the fine boy admired her for it!... But then the -snuffers were of gold. No one likes to be snuffed by coarse iron ones.</p> - -<p>‘What a pity that I have no one to snuff me here! Were we -together, it would be your office, love. I have to act as my own -snuffers, and take hints never intended to be hints, like noble Tudor’s—“I -must do my duty.” He had no idea that he was acting the part -of a tiny pair of gold snuffers. I may almost say that I have taken -these snuffers up, and have been snipping away with them at our -young Natives ever since. No mortal could object to such a miniature -pair.</p> - -<p>‘<i>Oct. 16.</i>—Do not think, from what is written above, that, as I -grow older, I think it well to grow more censorious. If I have grown -in anything this year, I think that it is in knowledge of my <em>own</em> -errors and mistakes. I sometimes feel quite disheartened. I do not -think that I ever more mistrusted my own judgment than I do now, -after my various blunders. But we know that, though snuffers are -less straight, comely, and upright, perhaps, than the candlestick, they -may be useful in brightening the light which it carries.’</p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[374]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="II_CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1884-1885<br /> -SOME OF A. L. O. E.’S POSSESSIONS</span></h3> - -<p>Some little time before this Mr. Baring had, for various -reasons, decided to leave Batala, though not, it seems, to -give up his interest in the High School. His departure -was fixed for the last day of the year 1883; and Miss -Tucker, after her usual cheerful fashion, congratulated -herself upon the fact that, at least, the New Year would -not begin with a parting.</p> - -<p>Much uncertainty had prevailed as to who should be -chosen to carry on Mr. Baring’s most important work -among the boys; but before the end of December suspense -was ended. Another of Miss Tucker’s dharm-nephews, -the Rev. Herbert U. Weitbrecht, with his wife -and children, would come to live in Anarkalli, and Mr. -Weitbrecht would be the Principal. By this time a -Mission Bungalow in Batala was finished, and two German -ladies, Miss Hoernle and Miss Krapf, came in the course -of December to reside in it. Miss Tucker, however, does -not yet appear to have thought of changing her quarters. -Indeed, the little bungalow was built to contain only two -ladies.</p> - -<p>On December 27th she wrote home as to arrangements:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘The Weitbrechts are to come here on Jan. 15 for about a fortnight. -I am to keep house until they come for good about the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[375]</a></span> -middle of March; and then my fair niece, Ellie, is to take the reins. -She and her two children must go to the Hills in May. All purpose -going to England in the following March. As Herbert did not wish -to be buying much furniture, when so soon to be on the wing, I felt -it the best plan to take some off dear Francis’ hands, and let the -Weitbrechts have the use of them. Thus, I find myself the possessor -of a very large bed, immensely long table, and a variety of other things -too numerous to recount.</p> - -<p>‘There is no use in my not wanting possessions,—they will come! -I have even a large coffin, which is not the slightest use to me! I -did <em>not</em> buy <em>that</em> from Francis!...’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The fact of Miss Tucker including a coffin amongst her -possessions requires a word of explanation. About this -time the Rev. Robert Clark went to pay a little visit to -Batala; and on his first arrival he was shown straight to -the room which he would occupy while there. Miss -Tucker came running in, and exclaimed—</p> - -<p>‘I hope you have not seen it,—have you?’</p> - -<p>Mr. Clark naturally inquired what was the thing in -question which she wished him not to have seen.</p> - -<p>‘I had better tell you all about it,’ she said. ‘A poor -woman was dying, and we thought they would take her -away and burn her; and we wished to give her Christian -burial. So I ordered a coffin to be made. But they were -late in making it, and she died before it was ready; and -they took her away and burnt her. And then they brought -the coffin. It was a very good coffin, and I thought it -would be useful; so I told them to put it under the bed in -the guest-room! You did not see it, did you?’ Mr. Clark -no doubt assured her that he had not yet made the discovery; -and she went on eagerly: ‘You must not think I -kept it for myself; for I have directed in my will that I -should be buried without a coffin, and that my funeral -expenses must not exceed five rupees.’</p> - -<p>The latter injunction was with a view to lessening -funeral expenses among Indian Christians generally,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[376]</a></span> -many of them being apt to spend heavily at such times. -But the whole story is eminently characteristic. Many -people shrink from the very mention of a coffin, because of -its associations. Not so Charlotte Tucker! There was to -her absolutely no sadness whatever in the thought of death. -She looked forward to the day of her departure from -earth as to a day of release from bondage, of an upward -spring into a new and radiant life. It was a subject to be -spoken of cheerily, and with a smile.</p> - -<p>What became of the coffin in the end Mr. Clark does -not say; but he too speaks, as do others, of her entire -fearlessness with regard to death. Once, when talking -of it to him, she quoted impressively the words, used -long before by her gentle sister, Fanny: ‘Whenever, -wherever, however, He will!’</p> - -<p>One time, when Mr. Clark was spending a Sunday at -Batala with Miss Tucker, she read aloud to him the 31st -verse of the 40th chapter of Isaiah, and drew attention to -the fact that the verse had in it instruction and comfort for -persons of all ages.</p> - -<p>‘“They shall mount up with wings as eagles,”—that is -something for our young people; they are always soaring -and flying. “They shall run, and not be weary,”—that is -for our middle-aged people; they run and work on, and -never seem to tire. And there is something for us old -people too,—“They shall walk and not faint.” We old -people cannot fly; we cannot run; but we can walk, and -do not faint. And so we all of us renew our strength by -waiting on the Lord.’</p> - -<p>Mr. Clark, from whom these details have come direct, -writes also:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘On another occasion, she came walking up to me in her genial, brisk -manner, with a book in her hands, as I entered the room, and said, -“You will be surprised when I tell you what book I am reading! -You know I am a good Churchwoman; and yet I often like to read<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[377]</a></span> -Spurgeon’s sermons. They are full of apt illustrations, and he never -repeats himself. I find them so useful in my writings; and I know -hardly any other work which so much helps me.” In her latter years -she often read Shakespeare, and recommended it to educated Natives, -who were averse to the study of the Bible. The recitations from -Shakespeare, at the Prize-giving in the Baring High School in Batala, -originated with her; and she thought them very valuable in the -formation of character. The Prologues in these Prize-givings were, -I think, till last year all written by her.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Not only in later days, but all through her life from -very childhood, she had delighted in Shakespeare, as we -have already seen; and she had a very high opinion of -the value of Shakespeare in the general education of the -Indian mind.</p> - -<p>In confirmation of certain words above, spoken by herself, -Mr. Clark observes: ‘As regards her religious views, -she was sincerely attached to the Church of England, -firmly believing that the teaching of the Church of -England, as set forth in the Book of Common Prayer and -in the Thirty-nine Articles, is in accordance with the Word -of God.’ Another also, who knew her well, has said: -‘A warm Churchwoman, she would always be ready to see -the best of those with whom she could not agree on many -points.’ This undoubtedly was the case,—in practice, -if not always in theory. She was, however, greatly -opposed to Ritualism, and would be much distressed when -she came across aught of the kind in her various visits -to different places.</p> - -<p>The subject recalls involuntarily certain words uttered -by Bishop French of Lahore,—‘our saintly Bishop,’ as -Miss Tucker called him. When he was at home some -years ago, and staying at Eastbourne, I happened to -put to him a question bearing on this matter; and his -reply was one not soon to be forgotten. He said: -‘<span class="smcap">It is no question out there of High Church -and Low Church! It is a question simply of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[378]</a></span> -Christianity and Heathenism!</span>’ To this wide and -comprehensive view Charlotte Tucker could not have -fully subscribed. In her letters, from time to time, though -not often, the subject crops up, and she expresses her fears -strongly as to one individual or another. But it is noteworthy -that when, soon after, she meets with the individual -himself, her fears are usually quieted; and while -conscious of differences on certain points, she is yet able -fully to recognise—and to recognise with delight—real -devotion of heart and life to the Service of the Master -Whom she loved. No more unmistakable token can -well exist of true large-heartedness. There was in her no -innate love of controversy for its own sake; and though, -as might be expected with one of her impulsive temperament, -she sometimes expressed her views with energy, she -did not love fighting, nor was she a violent partisan. As -a general rule, her aim was rather to build up than to -pull down.</p> - -<p>The years 1884 and 1885 passed in the main quietly, -marked by no especial events. Work went steadily on as -usual; holidays were short as usual; failure and success -fluctuated as usual. Miss Tucker’s loneliest time in Batala -was over. Now she not only lived with the family of Mr. -and Mrs. Weitbrecht, but two other lady Missionaries -were settled in Batala, helping to carry on the work. Not -that Charlotte Tucker’s toil was lessened thereby. She -had a less heavy weight of responsibility; but so far as -actual work was concerned it could never be overtaken,—and -it could not have been overtaken by twice or thrice -the number of workers. Fresh openings were continually -appearing, continually calling for attention.</p> - -<p>In the hot weather, indeed, she had a taste of her old -manner of life. Then, when other Europeans were compelled -one after another to flee to the Hills, Miss Tucker -could safely remain on many weeks longer; up to a certain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[379]</a></span> -point even enjoying the heat. On the whole, however, -things were altered. Not only were other Europeans in -Batala most of the year, but a railway had now been completed -between Amritsar and Batala, bringing all the -Amritsar friends within a very easy distance. It became -possible to run over to Batala for a day’s visit; and Miss -Tucker grew jealously anxious, lest such visitors should in -any wise hinder her work. ‘I have let it be known,’ she -wrote, ‘that I do not consider myself <em>off duty</em> till 2 <span class="smcapuc">P.M.</span>, -so that if friends come in the morning they visit the house -and not me. I must try to be firm in this, and make no -exceptions.’</p> - -<p>A certain little incident of this period may be mentioned. -With a new Principal, naturally new plans were -adopted in the training of the boys; and Miss Tucker -did not always at first take kindly to fresh ideas. She -was now of an age to prefer the old to the new, simply -because it was the old. Dr. Weitbrecht writes:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘In 1885, by way of encouraging muscular exercise in the hot -weather, I tried the experiment of having the boys taught wrestling -by a Native athlete. The Auntie was at first inclined to be a -little shocked at the new development, and would not grace the -wrestling practice with her presence. One day, as it was going -on, Mrs. Weitbrecht went to a window overlooking the arena, and -there found Miss Tucker, stretched on the floor, her head out of -the low window. In some alarm lest the old lady should have -fainted, she offered to raise her, but was only met with the reply, -“Hush! I’m looking at the boys.” The ladies soon saw they -were discovered, as a handsome young Pathan looked up with a -smiling “Salaam.”’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Extracts from the letters of these two years, 1884 and -1885, must unfortunately, for lack of space, be very limited -in number.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>New Year’s Day, 1884.</i>—I had a very sore parting with Mera -Bhatija; but on that I will not dwell....</p> - -<p>‘The last day of 1883 was a very sad one to me; but I had some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[380]</a></span> -of the little boys in the evening, and amusing them shook me out -of my melancholy. I awoke early—as usual—on the New Year’s -Day, and sang New Year’s hymns. After that I heard unwonted -music below my window. Good Miss Krapf and three of the Singha -girls had come to salute the New Year with a holy song. Of course, -I went to the city after breakfast.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Jan. 21.</i></p> - -<p>‘I am quite <em>glad</em> that my furniture is so simple. Had I had -plenty of gimcracks, I might have been a fidgety old maid. As it -is, there is no harm in having a nursery instead of a drawing-room. -But I have a nice little drawing-room of my own; a screened-off -bit of my fine large sleeping-room. I used it for my classes when -sweet Margaret was here; for I think that a married couple should -not be always having interruptions. This arrangement does nicely -in the cool weather; and in the hot weather dear Nellie and her -babes will be in the Hills. It will be the old arrangement of Auntie -and one choice nephew,—for Herbert <em>is</em> choice, and kind to my -Leila’s attached godmother.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Jan. 28, 1884.</i></p> - -<p>‘I feel as if I must have a talk with my Laura to-night; for my -spirit feels pensive and my heart tender. The ladies came and -took tea with us; and Miss Krapf brought her music. As Herbert -wanted to see a photo of St. George and Francie, I took my dear -old album into the drawing-room, which it very seldom enters. -While the sweet, rich music was going on, I was—yes, sighing over -my Album. More than twenty of the faces in it no longer of earth! -Sweet Mother, Fanny, Henry, Letitia, Aunt E——,—oh, so many -gone before! Then my Laura looked so like what she did in old -days. I must not look often over <em>that</em> Album; it is like my youth -between two boards. What a changing world!’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>March 26.</i>—I met with a perfectly mad woman in a Hindu -Zenana. She came and sat down beside me. V. and others -made me change my seat to another bedstead—the usual seat. I -did not at first know why, but was soon aware of the cause. The -poor, afflicted woman put her head right down on my lap. She -did not seem to be mischievous. It was insanity, not idiotcy.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[381]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>April 22, 1884.</i></p> - -<p>‘Among the little matters which vary our regular life at Batala, -I may mention almost nightly alarms about robbers. The servants -have got into a nervous state.... It is not a comfortable state of -affairs.... The Weitbrechts and I have been putting our heads -together. I forget which of us suggested the plan which we hope -may succeed. I sleep in the front room, opposite to the servants’ -house; so a great tumult naturally awakens me, especially as my -windows are open for air. The Weitbrechts are more out of the -way.</p> - -<p>‘Herbert is to lend me his revolver, loaded, and we are to take -care that every one knows that I have the formidable weapon; but -no one but ourselves is to know that I would on no account hurt -any one with it. On the next alarm of robbers, I am to jump up, -and—fire—at the trees or the stars. The report will probably awake -Herbert, who has a rifle. Now you see the double use of this -arrangement. My Ayah may possibly even sleep out-of-doors, if -she knows that a yell from her may bring a pistol-shot from her -vigilant Miss Sahiba; and robbers, if such there be, will doubtless -dread my prowess, not knowing how peculiarly peaceable I am, -and that I would prefer being shot myself to shooting another! -I am to have a very determined look; and we have all tutored -each other <em>not to laugh</em>! Both Herbert and Nellie have some fun -in them, but they are to look as grave as judges, as if Miss Sahiba -were a dead shot; especially on a very dark night, when there is -no moon! Have I not spectacles?’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>April 23.</i></p> - -<p>‘Well, my loved sister, if you read my little note to Leila first, -you will be pleased to hear that the night went over serenely. Even -my frightened Ayah seems to have slept peacefully under the wing -of the Buzurg Miss Sahiba, armed with a revolver! Would not -dear Rowland have laughed to see old Auntie learning from Herbert -how to cock and fire a pistol! I wonder how Nellie kept her -countenance, when one of the servants expressed a hope that Miss -Sahiba would give some notice before firing, for fear of a casualty -to one of the household; and then wanted to know what would -happen if Miss Sahiba <em>killed</em> a thief! Nellie told the inquirer that -we English—she was too truthful to say the Miss Sahiba in particular—only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[382]</a></span> -aimed at limbs to disable, not at bodies to kill. Nellie knows -pretty well that, if <em>I</em> aimed at anything, it would be at the stars.</p> - -<p>‘I took care to lock up my dangerous weapon before sunrise, -treating my revolver with great respect. Do you remember that, -when I was known to be coming out to India as a Missionary, dear, -kind H. Boswell wanted to make me a present of his pistol? I -declined it, as a very unnecessary part of a Missionary’s outfit; but -I could not help remembering H.’s kindness yesterday. Though I -never fired Herbert’s revolver, yet the <em>report</em> of it—to speak in -Irish style—had a great effect.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>May 3.</i>—O yes, my Laura, <em>love</em> your K.<a name="FNanchor_115" id="FNanchor_115"></a><a href="#Footnote_115" class="fnanchor">[115]</a> The Native is -affectionate. Indians are not usually considered grateful; perhaps -they are not grateful for benefits bestowed through general benevolence -or a sense of duty; but my impression is that they readily -respond to <em>affection</em>. This is one of the great secrets of ——‘s -power.... I was rather amused yesterday, when I was describing -Philemon’s funeral to the dear Pandit of O—— (K. S.), and had -said that we went singing towards the grave. “I will not sing at -<em>your</em> funeral,” said he. And then he told me how he had <em>tried</em> to -sing at dear Margaret’s—but it was quite a failure; he could not -sing, his heart was much troubled. The Pandit is a lovable man; -and he loves.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<i>May 8, 1884.</i> (<i>Her Birthday.</i>)</p> - -<p>‘When I came down in the morning before 6 <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span> I found in -letters of gold on a purple ground over the large front door, “God -save our beloved Miss Sahiba.” I told dear Babu Singha when -we met, as I walked on towards the city, that I liked the “our.” -He observed that “buzurg” seemed to put me farther away from -them. I quite agreed. I like “our,” which makes me seem like -the boys’ property....</p> - -<p>‘I was surprised in a Zenana to-day by a request for some <em>old</em> -article of my clothes for a baby. “I will give you some new cloth,” -said I; for I make exceptions to my rule of not giving presents to -Natives in Zenanas, in favour of new babies and brides. But the -grandfather did not want <em>new</em> cloth at all. He insisted on something -old. So I humoured him, and looked out on my return home -for something that I had worn....</p> - -<p>‘How much I have to be thankful for, my Laura! I begin my -Tenth September with a quiet, peaceful feeling. “Oh, how kindly -hast Thou led me, Heavenly Father, day by day.” But the best is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[383]</a></span> -to come. “Light after darkness—” Not that my present position -is darkness; but there is often weariness, of course.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>May 15.</i>—I can so well enter into the “thought and anxiety” -caused by ——. His mind is probably in an effervescing state; but -we must trust and pray that, after the froth works down, something -precious may remain. Young India is at present in a peculiar state; -and —— does not stand alone in his dangerous love for oratory. -You must expect, love, to see some of the weaknesses of the Native -character even in those on whom our Blessed Religion has made -an impression. With the English—Truth, Honour, and a sense of -Duty are often found even in those <em>not</em> very religious, and it shocks -and disappoints one to find the want of this kind of moral foundation -in some Natives, whose piety one cannot doubt!! “I must -do my duty,”—“Honour bright!”—are expressions that in this land -need to be taught.</p> - -<p>‘The Native character is a study. <em>We</em> can hardly disconnect -pious feeling from purity and conscientiousness. One must make -great allowance for those brought up in a tainted atmosphere. Do -not be easily discouraged, love. India does turn out some really -fine fellows; but a school like this is greatly needed, to begin <em>moral</em> -tuition early. We want our flowers to have stalks and leaves, and -not to spread out their petals so close to the earth as to be defiled -by its dust. Let —— expand his eloquence in trying to draw ryots<a name="FNanchor_116" id="FNanchor_116"></a><a href="#Footnote_116" class="fnanchor">[116]</a> -to Christ. Close contact with really hard evangelistic work, if persevered -in, would probably do much to sober his mind. Let him be -persuaded that the Baptism of one true Convert, however ignorant -and poor, is a far higher honour than the plaudits of an English -audience.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>July 3, 1884.</i>—I have had two comical though not very pleasant -incidents.</p> - -<p>‘I sent dear Mrs. Singha as a present what I believed to be a -bottle of lemon syrup, delicious in hot weather.... When next I -went to the Banyans, Mrs. Singha told me that I had sent her a -bottle of <em>brandy</em>! I was astonished,—I, who am virtually a teetotaller! -I could hardly believe it. She produced the bottle; and, -sure enough, it was full of brandy. What a villain of a grocer must -have sold it, thought I, smuggling brandy in this way.... “This -is sure to be trashy brandy,” thought I, “which I should not dare -to give in a case of illness.” So, in my indignation, I poured it all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[384]</a></span> -out on the grass. I also thought that I would write to good Babu —— -at Lahore, who had bought the bottle for me, to tell him of the -wicked cheat played on him. Most fortunately, I first mentioned -the matter to Herbert. “Do you not remember,” said he, “that when -we wanted a large bottle, you emptied your brandy into a small -one?” I had perfectly forgotten the fact. O stupid, most stupid, -old Auntie! And I had emptied my bottle on the grass!</p> - -<p>‘The next incident was also a provoking one. You know that I -have had boils. Well, Herbert said ... that the best way to stop -a boil was, at the very first threatening, to put caustic to the place. -So I bought a bit of caustic, knowing as much about it as I do of -Hebrew.... Just before starting for afternoon Wednesday Service -in the city, I thought that I had the slightest possible sensation of -a boil on my nose. “Not a pretty place to have a boil on,” thought -I; so I took out my wee grey stone, dipped it in water, and applied -it. It did not burn at all, so I applied it again. Then, seeing a -black spot, hardly visible except through spectacles, off I went to -Service.</p> - -<p>‘On returning home, to prepare to go out to Miss Hoernle’s, -how surprised—I may say almost shocked—was I, on looking in -my glass! A big black smutch on my nose; another on my chin; -and another on my thumb. Washing was of no avail; salts of -lemon none; chloride of lime none; soap useless! I could not -help laughing, I was such a figure; and my Ayah laughed too. -I determined to give it to Herbert roundly for putting me up to -make such a fright of myself.... As soon as I could get hold of -my naughty nephew, who was playing at lawn tennis as happily as -if nothing had happened, I scolded him in Miss Hoernle’s presence -as hard as I could,—considering that both of us were laughing. -At last my wrath blazed into verse:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“You told me it would make me smart,—</div> -<div class="verse indent1">The fear of pain was slight;</div> -<div class="verse">You have not made me smart at all,—</div> -<div class="verse indent1">You’ve made me just a fright!”’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>July 10.</i>—You will like to know that I have managed almost -entirely to get rid of those spots, which made me think of Lady -Macbeth, and gave me rather a dislike to the use of caustic; for -one does not like to appear as if one never washed either face or -hands.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>In November another sorrow came; the death of Miss<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[385]</a></span> -Tucker’s nephew in Canada, Charles Tucker, whom she -had visited before starting for India. He was one of her -‘Robins’ of earlier days; and she felt the loss much.</p> - -<p>It was in the course of 1884 that Miss Tucker related -to her sister a certain Christian Pandit’s dream. His -wife had long been dangerously ill, and the husband had -tenderly nursed her. No other Christians lived in the -village except these two; and no one but the husband -had been near the dying woman for many days.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I think it was the day before the sufferer’s departure,’ wrote -Miss Tucker, ‘that the Pandit fell asleep; but as he said, “In -sleep I was praying.” He dreamt that he heard a voice say, “I -will take her; she suffers so much!” Another Voice, which he -thinks was a Divine one, said, “Wait!” On waking, the Pandit -went to his wife. She told him that Jesus Christ had stood by her, -and laid His Hand on her head. “How did you know Him?” -asked the husband. “<em>His Side was red!</em>” Whether the appearance -was a dream or not, it gave comfort. The sufferer departed at last -in peace.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>There is no necessity for any one to believe this, on -the part of either husband or wife, to have been more -than a natural dream—a reflex of the state of mind and -thought previously. At the same time, it is undoubtedly -possible that help or comfort, whichever was required, -might be sent through the medium of a dream. Several -remarkable instances of dreams are mentioned from time -to time by Miss Tucker in her letters,—occasionally -vivid enough to decide a Muhammadan on the great -step of becoming a Christian. There is many a simple -and natural means by and through which God speaks to -the heart; and dreams <em>may</em> sometimes be one of those -means,—especially in ‘Early Church days.’</p> - -<p>One other instance of the kind can be mentioned here, -while the subject is to the fore. In Charlotte Tucker’s -Journal, some few years later, occurs the following<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[386]</a></span> -singular little entry, when she is describing a visit to a -certain village:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Aug. 16.</i>—J. R. told me dream of Christ, which he had had three -or four years ago. Indignantly repudiated idea that my pictures -were like Him Who was so much more beautiful. I read part of -description of Christ in Rev. i.; but the old man, with simple -truthfulness, said that <em>that</em> was for the superior person who had -written. He was a poor man; he had only seen the white dress and -beautiful shining Face. I asked if he had seen it distinctly. “Do I -see you who are before me?” he replied. “So I saw Him.” His -nephew certified to J. R. having told him of this dream soon after -having it.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>It is very probable that the old man might have -been dwelling on the thought of Christ, consciously or -unconsciously endeavouring to picture the Divine Form -to himself; and the dream <em>may</em> have been a perfectly -natural consequence of his own cogitations. But to say -that a thing is or may be natural is <em>not</em> to say that it can -have been in no sense Divinely sent, or that it might not -bring quickened realisation with it.</p> - -<p>The New Year’s Day of 1885 was not altogether cheerful, -despite courageous efforts made, and parties of Indians: -children in the afternoon, seniors in the evening. Two -unfortunate Hindus were accidentally drowned in one of -the large Batala tanks; happily not that tank which lay -close to the palace, wherein the schoolboys were wont to -disport themselves. This naturally threw a shadow over -the proceedings of the day.</p> - -<p>Early in the year came a letter from the Bishop of -Lahore to Miss Tucker:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Jan. 10.</i></p> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Dear Friend and Sister in Christ</span>,—May I venture to ask -if in the little room you may assign me kindly, during my short visit -to Batala, a little cot may be placed for a brother of mine from New -Zealand (a brother in Christ also), who is always pleased to <em>chum</em> with -me, as he does at Bishopstow also, our house being full?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[387]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘I am sorry to say my visit must be limited to a sojourn with you -from Friday, 30th January, to Tuesday, February 3, as the Ajnala -work hedges me in behind, and Lahore and Amritsar Confirmations -before. May I ask your special prayers, lest this rather overpowering -crush of work may not impair strength of mind or tone of spirit, both -of which I have a little reason to dread at this season? It is a comfort -to know and to be assured that our Faithful Lord will “stablish -and keep us from evil.” May His peace, and love with faith, be our -portion; and then in the storm we may sing our watchword, “All -well.”—I am, yours, with ever affectionate and grateful regards,</p> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Thomas V. Lahore</span>.</p> - -<p>‘Affectionate good wishes to your whole party.</p> - -<p>‘This will, alas! break up my itinerating plan; not for ever, I -trust.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>A fortnight later Miss Tucker wrote to her sister, on -January 24:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘You will have seen in the paper that our good Bishop has lost his -daughter. I wrote to him a little note of sympathy which he was -not to answer; but he did reply in his own gracious, characteristic -style. We expect the Bishop here next week for a Confirmation; -and he has asked leave to bring a Christian brother from New -Zealand. Whether the brother be an emigrant or one of the -aborigines, we know not. We are prepared for either.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Feb. 4, 1885.</i></p> - -<p>‘The interesting Confirmation took place on Saturday, ... after -which we partook of the Holy Communion. I think Herbert said -that there were 41 Communicants. We never had so many before -in our chapel. The dear, saintly Bishop left on Tuesday morning.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>March 28, 1885.</i></p> - -<p>‘You should have seen Ellie and me down on the floor to-day, -pinning down the dusters for the chess-board. It so happens that -there is an unusual influx of Native Christian visitors at present—R. -R., his winsome lady and two daughters, J.’s mother, and S., -a fledged bird, and these with the numerous Singhas and the Native -Pastor will make quite a gathering. I rather expect to play badly;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[388]</a></span> -but the great thing is to be quick and dashing, and to move as many -pieces as possible; and not to be disturbed by the bursts of laughter -likely to follow any check given or piece taken. Would you not -like to be present,—near me?</p> - -<p>‘Well, as I rather expected, I was beaten, though I had the best -of the game at first. I never heard such noisy pieces of chess as the -dear brown boys were, when they were first marshalled on the board, -and had to don their crowns, regal or mural, their mitres and their -horses’ heads. Our Afghan hero, C. C., was a knight, and enjoyed -himself very much. I think that there was only one piece, or at -most two, that was not moved.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>April 23, 1885.</i>—My nephew Herbert ... is absent again on -Mission work. He has heard that there is a spirit of earnest inquiry -amongst a number of poor low-caste village folk, I think about ten or -eleven miles from Batala. He has gone to look personally into the -matter; and if he finds that these lowly peasants are really seeking -after God, we will try to make some arrangement for their instruction. -Herbert will see if it be advisable for an English lady and Native -Bible-woman to go for a short time, and to fix some suitable agent -(Native) to reside amongst the poor people, and start a school. Of -course, this involves expense; but if corn at last be springing up, -it must not be neglected. It is such a comfort to have one, wise, -good, and active, like dear Herbert, to look after such matters....</p> - -<p>‘If you happen to meet with dear Mrs. W——, please tell her that -her Cross gleams in my room every night. Her pretty straw basket -is so <em>much</em> admired in the zenanas....</p> - -<p>‘Our Church-building is growing rapidly under Herbert’s auspices. -The “Mission Plough” too surprises me by its growth. I hear that -there are 105 boys there now. But we have not a sufficiently strong -staff of teachers. The Inspector (Government) was pleased with the -school, but said that we should have a stronger staff. We know -that too.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>May 8.</i>—I saw Miss B. a few days ago. She saw you in -London, and thought that we resembled each other. “But I hope -that my sister looks much younger than I do,” said I. “Does she -look twenty years younger?” To my satisfaction, Miss B. agreed -that you did. So my Laura keeps her looks, though not feeling so -strong as I should wish her to do.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>June 22, 1885.</i> ... I must amuse —— with the following <em>perfectly -authentic</em> anecdote. There was a nice young couple, as nice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[389]</a></span> -as Fred and Maud perhaps, and they had a nice little baby. One -day the inexperienced Mamma banged the baby’s head. Accidents -<em>will</em> happen, you know, in the best-regulated families. The young -mother was conscientious; she felt that she ought to confess the -banging to the father of the child. With tearful eyes she went to her -husband, and owned that she had banged her baby’s head. Then -the husband, gaining courage from the brave woman’s truthfulness, -confessed that <em>he had done the very same</em>! he had banged the baby’s -head, but had not liked to own it. The baby does not appear to have -been the worse for the two bangs; perhaps they were on opposite -sides of the little head, and counteracted each other. Still—fathers -and mothers had better not try the experiment of how much banging -a baby will bear. Don’t you think so, darling?’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>July 13.</i>—I was interested in hearing what was said to E. by the -lad last baptized.... “I have nearly got through my temptations,” -said he. Of course, I cannot give his exact words, which were in -Urdu; but their drift. The lad thought that forty days of temptation -succeed a convert’s Baptism, and said, “I have only eleven left.” ... -“But do you think that you will never be tempted afterwards?” asked -E. Poor B. did not think that, but he thought that the first forty -days were the worst; and perhaps he is right.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Nov. 13, 1885.</i>—I think that it will amuse you and my dear god-daughter, -if I tell you of my first attempt regularly to make a -marriage, and what were the consequences thereof.</p> - -<p>‘I had been told by the experienced Native Christian, whom I -will call M., the proper way to carry on a negotiation. He told -me long ago that a “Buzurg” (elder) should ask the parents for the -maid. There being a union which we Missionaries thought suitable -and desirable, ... I, the most buzurg of all our circle, at the desire -of the fine young suitor,—whom I will call B.,—went in my duli to -M.’s house, to ask his lovely daughter in marriage for my client. -I managed to have both parents present, and sent the maiden away. -It would have been a great breach of etiquette for her to have -heard me.</p> - -<p>‘I felt that I was doing all in proper Oriental style. The parents -listened; we talked over the advantages of the union; and M. and -his wife were to give me their reply on the following day.</p> - -<p>‘But Orientals take their time. I heard nothing on the following -day; so on the third I sent my salaam to M. and desired to see him. -He came, smiled, was highly agreeable, said that <em>he</em> was willing, but -must consult his brother, etc.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[390]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘<em>I</em> thought that some one else should be consulted; namely, the -young lady. I was going to Amritsar ... so I resolved to have a -private interview with the maiden, whose future was to be decided -upon. The lovely—let’s call her X.—had returned to ——; so there -I sought her, and had a <i lang="fr">tête-à-tête</i>. I wanted to know whether -<em>she</em> cared for B., whom she had had many opportunities of seeing -from her childhood.... We had almost taken it for granted that -X. must care for him.</p> - -<p>‘Hitherto all had gone pretty smoothly. I had even thought -what presents I should give, and the Weitbrechts and I had talked -over the day for the wedding. But an unexpected obstacle arose. -X. could make no objection to B.; I do not think that she has a -thought for any other suitor; but she does not want to marry at all! -“I want to read,” she said. “I wish to remain <em>like you</em>!”</p> - -<p>‘This opened our eyes to a peril in the infant Church, of which you -probably never would dream. Ellie and I set to counting up young -maidens who are of a suitable age to become brides,—well-educated, -nice girls,—and came to the conclusion that a kind of fashion is -setting in <em>not to marry</em>. The Native delights in imitating the -European. The girls see that most female Missionaries, whom they -love and honour, are unmarried. They enjoy freedom.... Christian -women are at a premium. <em>Widows</em> are eagerly sought as Bible-women....</p> - -<p>‘Of course, I would never wish X. to marry one she does not care -for. I have told her father that the matter is at an end. But <em>he</em> looks -grave enough, and sees the peril to our Infant Church as clearly as -we do. If our nice maidens scorn to marry, where are our fine, well-educated -men to find Christian wives? How are girls—except in -very rare cases—to work in zenanas without the care of a husband? -It would be thought improper, hardly safe.</p> - -<p>‘“The consequences are” that I have written a little book in -honour of the holy estate of Matrimony; which—the new book—has -had Ellie’s approval, and I am sending it to Herbert for his. What -we want in India are good wives and mothers. No science or literature -can make up for the lack of such.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>It was in the summer of this year that Miss Tucker -mentioned in one letter a curious little scene at the railway -station. She had gone there to meet a friend, who failed -to arrive. Two young Native Christians happening to be -present, and also a young English officer of her acquaintance,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[391]</a></span> -she brought them together with a kind of half -introduction. When she had left the station, the officer -began talking to the two, asking lightly why they had -left their own religion for another. ‘It’s all the same,’ -he said. ‘Muhammadans, Hindus, Christians, all know -that there is One God.’ This far from brilliant remark -received an answer which it well deserved. ‘If so,’ one of -the Indians replied, ‘what difference is there between you, -us, and the Devil?’ The train moved on, carrying the -speaker away; and no more could be said. But more -might have weakened the force of the retort.</p> - -<p>A few slight memoranda, contributed by two Native -Christians, come next. The first are sent by Dr. I. U. -Nasir, formerly one of the boys in the Baring High School, -already quoted in an earlier chapter. He speaks of himself -as an adopted ‘son’ of Miss Tucker’s, not, like others -a ‘nephew.’ The second set of extracts, which I give last, -not because they are of inferior interest, but because I wish -to accentuate one suggestion, by letting it end the chapter, -are from the Rev. Mian Sadiq, at one time Indian clergyman -in Amritsar, and later the same in Batala.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<h4>I.</h4> - -<p>‘Of all the India’s sons, especially those with whom she had to -deal at Batala, it was my privilege to be called her “son.” She was -an “Aunt” to a good many Missionaries, but only did she allow me to -call her “Mother”; and she did love me as a true mother....</p> - -<p>‘The one thing most noticeable about her was that she was so self-denying -and humble, considerate for others’ feelings, and tender-hearted. -She would tend the sick with such motherly care; and if the -disease was a dangerous one, or infectious, she would insist on sitting -by the bedside, and not allow others to run the risk of contracting -the disease. On one occasion a poor, dirty convert was suffering from -fever, and had no clothes. Miss Tucker gave him her bedding for -the night, and spent the winter night herself sitting before a fire. -Above all she hated “I’s.” I remember only one occasion when -she desired us to do something for her. She had regular morning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[392]</a></span> -and evening walks in the fields; but getting a little tired sometimes -of waiting till the Church bell sounded, she wished a small terrace to -be raised, just sufficient to seat her. A small rude platform was -raised for her by the side of a babūl tree. She may have selected -that particular spot, because it gave a very picturesque view of the -“stately palace,” with the “tank with lilies blowing” in the foreground,—now -turned into an artificial canal.</p> - -<p>‘Her reticence regarding her own life and work was extreme. -This much I remember from her occasional talks, incidentally dropped -from her: that she was eight years old when she read Shakespeare; -she was eleven when she began to compose; and at twenty-one she -sent her first book to press.<a name="FNanchor_117" id="FNanchor_117"></a><a href="#Footnote_117" class="fnanchor">[117]</a> She wrote to me once how much she -exulted over her first printed composition....</p> - -<p>‘At that advanced age how much she could accomplish in a single -day was a wonder to everybody. Her vast correspondence, reading -of books and papers, her literary compositions, her school classes, -Bible-meetings, various interviews, were so gracefully and naturally -managed. Still, all these were held in the background, and jealously -guarded against encroaching upon her Missionary work....</p> - -<p>‘She was reading the sermon (Spurgeon’s) on Christ’s first miracle -at Cana. She read there that our duty was to fill the jars to the -brim; and it was Christ’s work to turn them into wine. This led to -the self-examining question, “Am I filling the jars to the brim? Can -I not work a little more for Christ than I have hitherto done?” This -gave her strength in her feebleness; and from that day she spent an -hour more in the zenanas than she used to do. Considering the -various discouragements she met in her Missionary work, it was no -small matter to take this step,—and this too at a time when it was -an effort to walk, not to speak of ascending perpendicular flights of -stairs in the zenanas....</p> - -<p>‘The one thing which was not liked by some people about her was -that she had an extreme disgust of Natives taking to English dress, -which she invariably designated “ugly.” She regretted on several -occasions that her age and habits did not allow of her adopting the -“graceful <i lang="hi">dopatta</i>” (head cover) in preference to her hat....</p> - -<p>‘Her ideas about the burial system were very definite. She would -take up the thread of St. Paul’s argument, and compare the human -body to a seed of grain, which should be simply buried under the -earth, and not shut up in a box and placed in the ground. She -several times expressed her desire to be simply wrapped up in a clean<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[393]</a></span> -sheet and carried by her boys to the cemetery when her turn came, -and then laid in the grave as one naturally sleeping.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<h4>II.</h4> - -<p>‘During Mr. Baring’s absence in England in 1881, one cold night -Miss Tucker noticed in the Chapel a man shivering with cold. He -was one of the non-Christian servants of the school. After Service -she called him, and asked him if he had more clothes. The man -said “No.” He was shivering, as he had fever. She told him to -wait, and ran upstairs. She came back in a minute with a beautiful -rug. She told the man she could not give it to him, as it was a -present from her sister, but she would lend it to him for the night, -and would buy a country blanket for him the next day. I asked her -what she was going to do herself. She said she would keep a fire in -her bedroom, and that would keep her warm.</p> - -<p>‘I saw her many times picking up pieces of broken glass or bottles. -She said poor people who walk barefoot get hurt by these. She has -known cases in which men suffered for weeks from wounds received -from these.</p> - -<p>‘She was not kind to men only, but to animals. One summer -morning, as she was coming from the city, after doing her work in -the Zenanas, she saw a poor donkey with a sore back, troubled by a -crow. She came home, took a piece of cloth, went to the place where -she saw the donkey, tied the cloth, and came back and took her -breakfast....</p> - -<p>‘Her example has done a great deal in removing caste feelings -among Christians. Batala was a place for feasts. In these feasts all -Christians were invited. She generally sat with low-caste Converts, -and ate with them....</p> - -<p>‘Once for sending a girl to an orphanage she sent for a prospectus -of the school. In it two warm dresses were put down in the list of -clothes. ‘It is very unreasonable,’ she said, ‘to require two warm -dresses.’ She had herself only one, and that she had been using for -the last nine years. Her poem, “What a Missionary Miss Sahiba -should be,” is an embodiment of what she was.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>One more short sentence from the same source is worthy -of particular attention: ‘When ill, Miss Tucker did not -like to inform her friends of it, lest her friends should leave -their work and come to nurse her. She often expressed a -wish that there were <span class="smcap">Mission Nurses</span>, who could attend<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[394]</a></span> -to the sick Missionaries. Without these, when one got ill, -others were taken from their work to nurse her.’</p> - -<p>In an earlier chapter it was suggested that some ladies, -wishing to find a vocation, might offer themselves as -Honorary helpers to the more regular Missionaries in -certain lines, among which Nursing was included. Here -it seems that the same thought had distinctly occurred to -the mind of Charlotte Tucker. Why should not a little -Band of Honorary Nurses for India be organised,—Nurses, -trained and capable, holding themselves ready to go -wherever their services may be required by any sick -Missionary, so that the steady work of other Missionaries -should not be unnecessarily interrupted by the illness of -one of their number? The idea is at least worth consideration, -since apparently it would have met with the -approval of A. L. O. E.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[395]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="II_CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1885-1886<br /> -ON THE RIVER’S BRINK</span></h3> - -<p>Changes again were impending. Mr. and Mrs. Weitbrecht, -after two years’ work in Batala, were to quit the -place; and in their stead would come Mr. and Mrs. -Corfield,—the former as new Principal of the High School. -It is singular to note one Missionary after another thus -coming and going, while Charlotte Tucker, with resolute -perseverance, held to her post.</p> - -<p>At last she too began to think of a change. Not of -leaving Batala; not of going home, for even the shortest -of furloughs! Such an idea perhaps never so much as -occurred to her mind. She simply began to think of -altering her residence in Batala. At Anarkalli she had -lived with Miss Swainson, with Mr. and Mrs. Beutel, with -Natives alone, with Mr. Baring, with Mr. Baring and his -wife, with Mr. and Mrs. Weitbrecht; and now another -‘upheaval’ had become imminent.</p> - -<p>The notion of a move was apparently at first her own, -though others soon looked upon it as desirable. Two -German ladies, Miss Hoernle and Miss Krapf, dwelt together -in the cosy little Mission Bungalow, which they had -named ‘Sonnenschein’ or ‘Sunshine.’ No room remained -for a third inmate; but Miss Tucker formed a plan of -building a small annexe to the west of ‘Sunshine,’ for her -own use; and to this tiny annexe she resolved to give the -name of ‘Gurub i Aftab,’ or ‘Sunset.’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[396]</a></span></p> - -<p>Mrs. Hamilton, on first hearing of the scheme, was -somewhat distressed at the thought of such a change for -her ‘Char’; but Miss Tucker wrote to assure her of no -move until the new building should be perfectly dry. -Also a long letter from Mr. Weitbrecht set before Mrs. -Hamilton, with kind clearness, the advantages of the plan. -Among other reasons urged was the overcrowded state of -the palace, where more room for the School was urgently -needed; and also the desirability that Miss Tucker, in -advancing years, should not constantly have to climb a -steep and awkward staircase, which had of late greatly -tried her strength.</p> - -<p>It is probable that for some little time past there had -been a certain failure of power, evidenced by such facts as -this, though made very little of by herself, and perhaps -little marked by others, because of her determined cheerfulness -and persistence in work.</p> - -<p>Still, as always, she rose at six in winter, and at half-past -four in summer; had her little breakfast of cocoa and -sweet biscuits; then read and studied till eight. At 8 <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span>, -whether in summer or in winter, she seldom failed to take -her rapid ‘Devotional walk’ out of doors, up and down, -till summoned to Prayers by the Chapel gong. Then -came breakfast proper; after which she would still, as -always, go out in her duli for three or four hours of -Zenana-visiting. Next followed correspondence; lunch; -classes of English history and English literature for the -elder boys; then afternoon tea; then sometimes more -reading of a Native language, and visiting of Native -Christians. This was the manner of day that she spent, -week in, week out, month after month, often for ten or -eleven months at a stretch; varied only by itinerating -expeditions into neighbouring villages, or an occasional -trip to Amritsar,—the latter seldom, except on business of -some kind. And she had been living this life now for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[397]</a></span> -at least eight or nine years! Small wonder that a breakdown -should come at last. The marvel was that it had -not come sooner. A chill and a bad smell were the immediate -cause,—they usually are in such cases, acting upon -exhausted powers.</p> - -<p>Up to Thursday, December 10, things were much as -usual. That morning she went on her ordinary city -round, and then to a Native wedding, where she was very -much tried by a bad smell from a drain, though her innate -courtesy would not allow her to hurry away. On reaching -home she was in a chilled and shivering condition, with -the beginning of a sore throat. In the afternoon fever and -drowsiness came on.</p> - -<p>For a day or two there seemed to be an improvement. -Mrs. Weitbrecht, who was to have left Batala before Sunday, -on account of health, deferred her journey until Monday.</p> - -<p>Nothing could induce Miss Tucker to remain at home -on Saturday. She started as usual for the city; and on -her return she told Mrs. Weitbrecht ‘how glad she was to -have gone,’ adding, ‘I am always especially glad when I go -to the city, feeling it a little effort to do so.’ One is disposed -to imagine that it must have been more than a <em>little</em> -effort, on that particular day; and the words contain a -revelation as to past ‘efforts’ when unfit for the work which -she never would neglect. Dr. H. M. Clark had been asked -to come over, but she utterly declined to see him, except as -a friend, refusing to consider herself ill. On Sunday she -was at both the Church Services, ‘kept up,’ as Mr. Bateman -said, ‘by her indomitable spirit’; and in the afternoon she -had, as always, her Class of boys. On Monday morning -she made her appearance early, to see Mrs. Weitbrecht -off,—very bright and cheery, wrapping up sandwiches, -and determinedly hiding how ill she really felt, for fear -Mrs. Weitbrecht’s departure should be again delayed.</p> - -<p>Things could not go on thus much longer. Miss Tucker<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[398]</a></span> -had made a brave fight,—too brave for her own good!—but -illness was now fast gaining the upper hand. She did -not again attempt city visiting,—a sure sign of her condition; -and much time that day was spent in a half-doze. -Towards night she became light-headed, and was so weak -that they had to carry her to bed. Miss Hoernle decided -to sleep at the palace, so as to be within easy call if needed; -but in the early morning she found her patient up, writing -a letter, and of course avowing herself ‘better.’ The -improvement, if it existed, was very brief. Fever again -set in, with weakness and delirium; and Dr. H. M. Clark -was sent for. On Tuesday Mr. Clark came too, and that -evening he sent for Miss Wauton to go over from Amritsar -on Wednesday morning. Mr. Rowland Bateman also was -speedily on the spot. Somewhat later in the week a -telegram summoned A. L. O. E.’s nephew and niece, Major -Louis Tucker and Mrs. Tucker.</p> - -<p>For three days the greatest possible anxiety was felt; -and on the Thursday another medical man was telegraphed -for, that a consultation might take place. The result of the -consultation was not favourable. Dr. P. on first seeing Miss -Tucker thought she might live a week, but when going away -he expressed a fear that half that time would see the end.</p> - -<p>Both before and after Dr. P.’s coming there was excessive -restlessness, and a great deal of delirium, though the -latter was never of a painful kind, and she always knew -those who were about her. She was at times extremely -anxious to get up, and she showed vexation at not being -allowed to do so. Once, when thus controlled, she said to -Mr. Weitbrecht with respect to her nurses:</p> - -<p>‘Couldn’t you take them to see the Church?’</p> - -<p>‘But, Auntie dear, we have seen the Church already,’ -they assured her.</p> - -<p>‘Then take them somewhere else,’ she said,—‘only take -them <em>a long way off</em>!’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[399]</a></span></p> - -<p>This evidently remained on her mind; for the next day -she began to talk about the Salvation Army, and the -doctrine of Perfection in this life, as taught by its devotees.</p> - -<p>‘It is a doctrine of the devil,’ she said emphatically. -‘Tell —— that I had an outbreak of anger and petulance -only yesterday. I wanted to go to my own room, and I -was quite cross when they would not let me. I think the -Lord let that be, that we might see how weak and sinful -we are. I am sixty-four years old,—and they who are so -much younger than I am would not let me get up! They -treated me just as if I were a child; and I could not bear -to be made into a little child; and so the Lord put me -down. These doctrines are the snare of the devil. They -make presumptuous people more presumptuous; and they -are calculated to drive conscientious people <em>mad</em>!’ The -last words were repeated; and Miss Tucker went on to -mention two cases, known to herself, where individuals had -become actually insane through ‘perfectionist’ teaching.</p> - -<p>She talked in her delirium almost incessantly, showing -extreme mental activity, an activity which never failed, even -when exhaustion was greatest. She dictated letters; she -composed verses and comic parodies; she repeated texts -and long sentences in Hindustani; she sang with animation -a cricket-song for the boys, and then a hymn in Hindustani -or English. Sometimes her drollery was so intense -that her nurses, in all their anxiety, shook with laughter -to hear the things she said. And all through, from beginning -to end, one thing never failed,—her radiant happiness -in the thought of going Home.</p> - -<p>While recognising those who were really present, she -fancied that others were there also, and talked to them. -Generally she could reason quietly about these appearances, -saying that she knew they were ‘shadows.’ -She does not seem to have felt thus about the evil spirits, -which she thought she saw. She pointed to where she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[400]</a></span> -believed them to be, asking, ‘Do you see them?’ Then -addressing the spirits, she continued: ‘I am not afraid of -you! You can do nothing to <em>me</em>! I belong to Jesus! -Don’t sit there, at the foot of my bed. Go away; you -cannot touch me!’</p> - -<p>The strong doses of quinine made her very deaf, so that -she could hear little of what went on around her bed; but -she heard what others could not hear,—sounds of music -filling the room.</p> - -<p>Sometimes she imagined herself to be in Zenanas, -talking to the Bibis, and pleading earnestly with them. -Or again she wondered why her kahars did not come to -take her thither.</p> - -<p>‘What to me was most remarkable,’ wrote Mr. Clark -afterwards, ‘was her perfect cheerfulness and happiness; -thinking of everything and every one around her, and talking -of the most common things, and doing it all in the -light of Eternity; standing on the very brink of another -world, and yet forgetting nothing, but thinking of almost -everything in this.... It was at times even amusing, for -there was no sadness in her perpetual sunshine.’</p> - -<p>On Friday morning, the day after the consultation, Miss -Tucker woke very early, and asked to have her desk, that -she might write. This of course could not be allowed. -Later in the same day Mr. Weitbrecht went in to see her, -just after an interview with Dr. Clark, and she inquired, -‘What does the doctor say?’</p> - -<p>Mr. Weitbrecht endeavoured to avoid giving any direct -reply, speaking only of one symptom which the Doctor -had named as encouraging. Then came the point-blank -question:</p> - -<p>‘Yes; but does he think I shall die, or recover?’</p> - -<p>‘He cannot tell.’</p> - -<p>Miss Tucker was not to be so put off. An answer she -would have. ‘I am very deaf with the quinine,’ she said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[401]</a></span> -‘I can’t hear what you say. If he thinks I shall stay, do -this!’—holding up her hand;—‘and if sinking, this!’—dropping -it.</p> - -<p>There was no choice left. Truth compelled Mr. Weitbrecht -to lower gently his hand. ‘Whereupon,’ as Mr. -Bateman relates, ‘a smile and an almost shout of joy -escaped her.’</p> - -<p>‘I am so glad!’ she exclaimed. ‘So glad to be dying in -harness! And to think that I shall be no trouble to anybody!... -It is too good to be true, that I am going -Home.... The bowl is broken at the fountain!’ Then -she repeated the simple verse beginning,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“And when I’m to die,</div> -<div class="verse">Receive me, I’ll cry,</div> -<div class="verse">For Jesus has loved me,</div> -<div class="verse">I cannot tell why!”’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>What Charlotte Tucker experienced, on seeing that -lowered hand, may be to some extent realised by reading -her ‘Dream’ of the Second Advent, given in an earlier -chapter. Heaven to her was ‘Home’; many of her -nearest and dearest were already in Paradise; and ‘death,’ -so called, would mean re-union with those dear ones. -Charlotte Tucker could from her very heart re-echo the -poet’s words,—with a most practical belief in them,—‘There -is no Death; what seems so is Transition.’ During -years past she had longed for this Transition; striving only -not to be impatient, but to await cheerfully God’s own time.</p> - -<p>And now, it seemed, she was to go! Not only to leave -sin and sorrow behind; not only to be young and strong -again; not only to see such beauty and glory as our Earth -can never show; not only to ‘mount up with wings, as -eagles,’ into splendid new spheres of knowledge and thought, -of employment and work. All these things, though real, -were secondary. <em>The</em> overwhelming delight of going Home, -whether by the Coming of Christ, or through the ‘grave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[402]</a></span> -and gate of Death,’ was that she would meet her Lord and -Master face to face! That was the grand expectation -which thrilled her whole being, which drew from her an -‘almost shout’ of joy, even in extreme weakness,—the -prospect of seeing <span class="smcap">Him</span>, ‘Whom, not having seen,’ she loved.</p> - -<p>So intense was the joy that it had a remarkable result. -It appeared to take the same effect as a powerful stimulant -upon her sinking strength. The very delight which she -had in dying brought her back to life; the very rapture -with which she desired to go kept her from going.</p> - -<p>It is not needful to suppose that this alone saved her -life. Skilled physicians and devoted nurses had done and -were doing their utmost; and a fresh remedy was being -tried, which brought down the very high fever. But the -fact remains the same, that, until Charlotte Tucker was -told that she would die, hopes of her recovery had been -given up, at all events by those best qualified to judge; -and that, from the time when she learned the verdict of the -doctors, she began to revive. At the least we must allow -that the stimulant afforded by this eager rejoicing was a -marked assistance to other remedies; and that, without it, -in all probability she might have sunk.</p> - -<p>Nor need it be imagined that she was immediately out -of danger. Improvement was very gradual, and anxiety -lasted long. Weeks later she spoke of her own life as -having been on Christmas Day still ‘trembling in the -balance,’ and this was nearly a week before Christmas. -But hope had revived, and every day it grew stronger.</p> - -<p>Having once made up her mind that she was to die, it -was, we may be sure, no easy matter for Charlotte Tucker -to turn her mind earthward again. ‘She dwelt on the -thought continually,’ wrote one of her nurses afterwards; -and another friend said in a letter home, at the time, -‘She is deaf to any suggestion of possible recovery.’</p> - -<p>Full directions were given as to presents which she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[403]</a></span> -wished to have sent to relatives and friends after her -departure; and many messages also, expressive of intense -delight in the prospect which she believed to lie before her. -She was very particular as to her funeral. ‘I wish no one -to wear black for me,’ she said. ‘My funeral must not -cost more than five rupees. No coffin; only a plank to -keep the body straight. You must make a recess in the -grave, so that the earth may not fall on my face. No one -must carry me but my dear Christian boys.’</p> - -<p>Then she would believe herself to be in a Zenana once -more, and she was giving a farewell address in Hindustani -to all her Bibis. In the midst of such a serious exhortation -would come in quotations from Shakespeare, or odd -little remarks about her food, making it impossible for -others not to smile, as the active mind passed rapidly -from one subject to another. But still her radiant expectation -and rejoicing never faltered.</p> - -<p>‘What a happy thing it is to have conquered!’ she said -once,—‘and to know that I have a crown of glory awaiting -me above! What happiness! But I know I have no -righteousness of my own. No one has that! My trust is -in the Blood of Christ <em>alone</em>! “The Blood of Jesus Christ -cleanseth us from all sin.”’</p> - -<p>Repeatedly she remarked how ‘happy she was, dying in -harness,—just as she had wished!’ And again: ‘I want -to go. You <em>must not</em> pray for my recovery. The Doctor -<em>says</em> I’m worse, doesn’t he?’ And again: ‘If the Ladies of -the Committee knew what a wreck I am, they would be glad -that I am going now. I cannot do any more work; but -tell them that I depart in the full, glad hope of Eternal -Life, through Jesus Christ <em>only</em>! His precious Blood -<em>only</em>!... “Nothing in my hand I bring; simply to Thy -Cross I cling!” ... I am almost surprised at my ever -coming out to be a Missionary. I was so very ignorant! -A Missionary needs very great humility.’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[404]</a></span></p> - -<p>At another time she asked: ‘How long is it likely to -last? My sister will be quite happy about me, now that I -have completed my tenth year of Missionary service.’</p> - -<p>But near as Charlotte Tucker drew to the Gate of -Death, which to her was the Gate of Life, she was only -allowed one glimpse inside; and then she had to turn -back into the wilderness of Earth once more. It makes -one think of the Pandit’s dream beside his dying wife. A -‘voice’ might well have said, with angelic pity, of Charlotte -Tucker, ‘She longs so to come! I will take her!’ But -if so, it would seem that the Divine Voice softly interposed, -‘WAIT!’ Her hour of Rest was not yet reached. She -was not very much more than half-way through her toilsome -Indian campaign. Ten years of work lay behind. -Eight years of work stretched ahead. This was but the -Rehearsal of the real Home-going.</p> - -<p>By Saturday morning there was so far a distinct improvement -that Mr. Clark felt himself able to return -to Amritsar. Miss Tucker still counted herself dying; -and her last words to Mr. Clark were, ‘Give to our dear -and honoured Bishop my affectionate <i lang="fr">adieux</i>!’</p> - -<p>When Christmas Day arrived, though not yet out of -danger, she was allowed to see all her Batala friends who -could come, including the boys of the School,—no doubt -a mere passing glimpse of each. Much warm interest had -been shown by the people of the city, as well as by the -Christians who so well knew and loved her. Before -Christmas Day, however, Miss Tucker seems to have -accepted the fact that, so far as could be seen, she had -not yet fought out her battle, had not yet to exchange -Cross for Crown. So early as the 21st of December -Miss Wauton wrote to Mrs. Hamilton:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I don’t think she will ever attempt so much active work again -amongst the people; but she said to me this morning, “Though I -shall probably not be able to do much amongst them, I can still <em>love</em><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[405]</a></span> -them!” Darling Auntie! <em>how</em> every one does love and honour her! -This week has shown more than ever how she lives in the hearts of -those for whom she is spending her life; and how dear she is to a -very, very wide circle of friends, as well as to her relations. The -boys have been as quiet as mice all the time she was ill; and the only -sounds that reached her room were their voices practising the Christmas -hymns, which she was delighted with, and fancied she heard -them nearly all through the night, long after they were all in bed.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>On December 28th Charlotte Tucker was able to dictate -a letter to Mrs. Hamilton:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">My precious Laura</span>,—I have been in deep waters, but I rather -think I shall swim. I cannot tell you what I owe to the splendid -nursing of —— and ——. You couldn’t have nursed me more devotedly -and tenderly yourself. Neither you nor I will ever forget it....</p> - -<p>‘I’ve a noise going on for ever in my ears; but my mind has been -clear all through. The hard thing was not to be able to pray for -what I wished. I should so have liked to depart and be with Jesus; -but it didn’t seem God’s Will; and His Will must be best. I tried -to ask for patience and resignation. Good-bye, darling....’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Loving messages to many friends are included in this -letter; and she also mentions having received on Christmas -Day ‘Communion for the Dying,’—though apparently -she was then not really counted to be dying. However, -unless she misunderstood her doctor, he was not -even then hopeful to any great extent. Probably her -own recollections were a good deal more confused than -she was at all aware of.</p> - -<p>It is not a little remarkable that, after all this, she -should in letters written somewhat later quietly and -decidedly assert that she had <em>not</em> reckoned herself to be -dying, but had fully expected to get well! The explanation -is, most likely, that her strong desire to pass away -was so dominant a feeling as to entirely push into the -background a consciousness that she would recover. At -the time she doubtless refused to listen to the voice of this -consciousness; but afterwards it would naturally recur to -memory,—possibly in a somewhat exaggerated form.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[406]</a></span></p> - -<p>As soon as she was sufficiently improved for the move -to be practicable, she was taken to Amritsar,—being lifted -into her duli, which travelled by train, so that she was -spared any further changes. At Amritsar she was within -easy reach of her Doctor; also she could be better nursed -and cared for there than in such an out-of-the-way place -as Batala, where personal comforts were few. Letters -early in 1886 naturally contain a good deal about her -illness.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>Jan. 2</i>.—My darling Laura, the last time the Doctor -came, I said to him, “Doctor, you’re winning the game of chess.” -He said, “You’ve been as bad as you could be; but, under God, you -owe your life to the excellent nursing.” ... My sweet ladies watch -me day and night, and seem to think it fun.... I think in England -we add to the miseries of sickness by looking so anxious and grave. -Then, another thing, love, is this; don’t shut out friends, for fear -they should tire the patient. On Christmas Day, when my life was -literally trembling in the balance, I must have seen more than a -hundred, and they didn’t do me a bit of harm.... Good-bye, darling. -Please give all sorts of kind messages to dear Leila and your other -dear ones, and every one who loves me....</p> - -<p>‘Please pray for patience. That is the lesson I have to learn. -“Be still, and know that I am God.” “O rest in the Lord, and wait -patiently for Him.” I mustn’t think even much about Heaven! I -mustn’t be like a soldier pining to get home, when he’s told to keep -quiet in the trenches.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>It is impossible not to remember Archbishop Trench’s -couplet:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘Some are resigned to go; might we such grace attain,</div> -<div class="verse">That we should need our resignation to remain!’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Amritsar</span>, <i>Jan. 11, 1886</i>.—I hope that my telegram arrived before -the news that would trouble you. The doctor pronounced me “out -of danger” last Friday, the 8th; so I almost immediately thought of -sending a telegram. Now I’m going to make a little confession of exaggeration. -I told you that I saw more than one hundred people on -Christmas Day. Babu Singha told me that there were only eighty-four -at the feast; so, as babies count at the feast and didn’t come up to me,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[407]</a></span> -I probably didn’t see more than seventy. I questioned the doctor a -little time ago as to the influx of visitors; and he only told me, that, -as he thought I was sure to die, it didn’t matter whom I saw. But <em>I</em> -didn’t think I was going to die; and you see I was right....’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Amritsar</span>, <i>Jan. 18</i>.—Thanks were publicly returned in Amritsar -Church yesterday for the recovery of your Char. “Bless the Lord, -O my soul; forget not all His benefits.” ... I am floating in a sea of -delight, and shall certainly look back to this time of terrible illness as -one of the happiest periods of my life. I am as happy as a Queen. -A great deal happier than the Queen! One of the images that most -frequently rises before my mind, in prayerful thought, is that of our -own beloved Queen. There is something so grand and pathetic in -that image, as our Sovereign Lady sits with her hand on the helm, -solitary at her post of duty, with a revolutionary storm howling and -shrieking around her. The Lord shield her head; strengthen her -hands; give her increasing grace and wisdom; and grant her the -victory over all her enemies.</p> - -<p>‘I think it would gratify Her Majesty were she to know her -<em>personal</em> influence amongst the Women of India. In zenana or mud-village, -“Maliká Muazima Kaiser-i-Hind”—I generally give our -Sovereign her full title among the Orientals, though I love “our own -dear Queen” much better!—is an object of interest.... Of course, -we inculcate loyalty among our Native Christians, in our Boarding -School at Batala. One of the first things that would strike the eye of a -visitor is “God save the Queen,”—hung up in the schoolroom.... -It would please Her Majesty, could she hear our Christian boys -singing:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“Let the world know,</div> -<div class="verse">Be it friend or foe,</div> -<div class="verse">We’ll be true to our Faith and our Queen!”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>The Hindus and Muhammadans might fail us should a storm arise; -the Atheists would be our bitter foes. I believe that many of our -noble Christians would be Faithful unto Death....</p> - -<p>‘I have had two such extraordinary attacks of malarious fever.... -For three days and nights, and more, I never slept for a moment. -My mind was sometimes carried, at other times goaded, in unnatural -activity. I had a torrent of thought, which I could not stop; the -first week is to me almost a blank.... Dr. P. knew nothing of me, -nor what a comically allegorical mind I have. I remember nothing -of our interview, but it must have been inexpressibly funny....’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[408]</a></span></p> - -<p>Letters thus far were only dictated. On January 20 is -one in her own handwriting, very feeble and shaky:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>’ ... One does learn such lessons, when lying still for weeks and -weeks, with nothing to do but think. For instance, I remember -grievous sins of omission, which I have never thought of before.... -The duty of Intercessory prayer opens out before me. Of course, I -have always prayed for you, love, and a great many more; no danger -of forgetting. But I <em>have</em> forgotten numbers.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>In a circular letter to English friends, dated January 25, -she again and more emphatically asserts her own non-expectation -of death during the late illness: ‘On the -worst day I talked Urdu, nothing else, from morning till -night, to imaginary bibis. Almost every one thought me -dying, <em>except myself</em>!... I asked the dear, kind, skilful -doctor of my state; he did not know what to say, for he -thought me sinking. I asked dear Mr. Weitbrecht, and he -pointed his finger straight downwards. I quite understood, -but did not believe myself dying for all that!’ This certainly -was not the impression of those around her at the -time, nor is it borne out by the things she said. No doubt -she was striving to believe what she longed for,—was -hoping that the doctors’ opinion, and not her own inner -sense, might prove to be right.</p> - -<p>Miss Tucker’s ‘horror of alcohol’ is particularly noted -by Mr. Clark. When getting better, she one day remarked -to him, ‘What a dear, good doctor Dr. Clark is! -He has brought me through it all, without giving me any -spirits.’ Then, turning to one of her nurses, ‘Isn’t it so, -dear?’ A judicious answer was returned: ‘The doctor -gave you just the right medicine, and you were very good -in taking it.’ A little later, when having another dose of -medicine, she said again, ‘Are you <em>sure</em> there is no -alcohol in it?’ ‘It is what the doctor has ordered for you, -Auntie dear. You must just take it, and ask no questions.’ -As letters show, it was not till February that she learned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[409]</a></span> -the true state of the case, which was that she had been -kept alive by small doses of stimulant every hour. The -strongest brandy had tasted to her like water. As soon as -Miss Tucker understood how matters had been, she wrote -to her sister, to say:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I made a great mistake in my letters home. If from them you -have given to others a wrong impression, please kindly correct it -when opportunity occurs. I wrote that I had had no stimulant in my -illness. I thought that I had not; but I find that I was utterly -wrong. I was kept from sinking, not only by quantities of quinine, -but brandy also. It was strange that I should not have recognised -it; but it was always mixed with something else.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>So steady now was the improvement in her health, that -before the middle of February she was able to get out for -drives; on the 14th she went to Church; and by the 18th -she was back again in ‘dear Batala,’—not at the old -palace, but in the Mission Bungalow, ‘Sonnenschein,’ with -Miss Hoernle. A crowd of boys welcomed her at the -Railway Station, on her arrival; and next day a grand -Batala feast was given in her honour.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[410]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="II_CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1886-1887<br /> -IN HARNESS ONCE MORE</span></h3> - -<p>So severe an illness could not fail to leave traces; and -Charlotte Tucker came out of it more distinctly an old -lady than she had ever been before. Ten years of perpetual -toil had used up a large amount of even her -superabundant vitality; and she could not expect to be -again fully what she had been, either as to vigour or -powers of endurance.</p> - -<p>But although strength did not return quickly, and work -had to be very slowly resumed, her interest in all that -concerned Batala was as vivid as ever. The letters of -1886 are full of details about various High School boys,—either -those who had been or those who still were scholars. -Letters to Mrs. Hamilton were as long as ever,—longer -indeed than in times of greater work-pressure,—and the -shaky hand soon regained its firmness.</p> - -<p>Immediately after her return to Batala, she wrote as to -work generally:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘O, there have been such stirring times in our Panjab Mission -field lately! On one side, or rather various sides, the poor, low-caste -people are joyfully receiving the Gospel. One hears of them -listening, with tears running down their brown cheeks. Dear Miss -Hoernle, my chum, is off to Futteyghur, with a new Bible-woman -specially for the poor peasants. There, after <em>due examination</em>, Mr. -Weitbrecht has baptized whole families,—fifty-six individuals,—and -I shall probably hear of many more when Miss Hoernle returns....<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[411]</a></span> -All this is comparatively smooth, for people do not flare up at poor -people being saved; but there has been desperate fighting over dear -lads of good family; prosecution, persecution, pelting, lying, hand-to-hand -struggling; even our chivalrous Missionary, Mr. Bateman, -always ready to be foremost in the fight, owns that he has never had -such a hard case as the last. The dear Convert, not yet baptized, -refused an offer of 10,000 rupees down and 40,000 in reversion, rather -than give up Christ....’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Many other particulars, too long to quote, follow.</p> - -<p>The 4th of March was to be, as she wrote, ‘a very -great day here; the greatest Batala has ever known! -Our Church is to be consecrated; and Christians will -gather from far and near. One of the most interesting -features of the occasion will be, I trust, the presence of -converts.... I believe that many of them will gladly -walk fifteen miles to be present. One said, in regard to -their dress, which is, as you may suppose, of a very rough -kind, “We will come in clean clothes, if it take us four -days to wash them!”’ The last few words were in -allusion to very poor village converts.</p> - -<p>A letter to a little great-nephew, the day after the -Consecration, gave some particulars:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘We had a very grand day in Batala yesterday. The Bishop -came to open our fine new Church. A great many ladies and -gentlemen came also. There were two meat meals for them; we sat -down about thirty-four. But one of the most interesting things was -that a good many poor men and boys, whom dear Mr. Weitbrecht -had baptized in the villages, came too. Now, some people are -proud enough to scorn these poor men, because they are of the low -Mihtar caste. But, you know, my T——, that there is plenty of -room in Heaven for Mihtars; and when they shine in white -garments and crowns no one will despise them then. We thought -that it would be a good thing to eat a little with the poor men, to -show that we do not scorn them.... Mr. Bateman, Mrs. Weitbrecht, -and I sat down on the straw, where the poor folk were eating their -dinner, and ate some too. I own that I did not eat much,—I had -had the two meat meals already!...</p> - -<p>‘Our Church looked very nice. We had to lend three mats for it;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[412]</a></span> -and other things were lent also.... But three beautiful cushions -were not lent. Dear Aunt Mina, her Wilhelmina, and Cousin Laura -worked them years ago for our Church. We took great care of -them, and they look in fine condition.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The Church of the Epiphany at Batala, consecrated -on March 4, 1886, by the Bishop of Lahore, is described as -being ‘of brick, plastered with lime. The style chosen -is that of the Mogul period, adapted to the requirements -of a Christian Church. The Church at present consists of -a nave, with clerestory windows, chancel, and porch. Two -side-aisles remain to be added. The present accommodation -is 200; when completed it will be about 500. The -Church is situated near the chief gate of Batala, on the -road leading to the railway.’</p> - -<p>Then came the parting with the Weitbrechts; a sorrowful -matter, after two years together under the same -roof. Miss Tucker, though still far from strong, was -sufficiently recovered to travel with them as far as to -Delhi, where she paid a short visit to a widowed niece. -While there, on March 18, she wrote:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘Here am I, in the famous old city of Delhi, long the capital of -India; but I go about to see none of its many sights.... The -dear Weitbrechts and I lunched with the Cambridge Mission -yesterday. A fine set of Missionaries, whom one is glad to have -met. I was invited to dine also, I fancy, but I did not care to have -my parting at a dinner-party. I returned here; and dear Herbert -came at past 9 <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span> just to bid me farewell. It was very kind in -him. We were alone in the verandah; and the parting was almost -like that between son and mother....</p> - -<p>‘There is an interesting young Missionary here, Mr. Maitland of -the S.P.G. He has been almost at death’s door, and now appears -much in the same state as I was in Amritsar six or seven weeks ago, -coddled and taken care of. He wanted me to come and take a cup -of tea with him, which I did most willingly; and we had a good chat -together. Invalids like visitors, I think. I know that I did....</p> - -<p>‘<i>22nd.</i>—O, my Laura, have you actually been sending <em>more</em> money, -to meet the expenses of my illness? I do not know what to say or -how to thank you. You must indeed stop overwhelming your Char!’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[413]</a></span></p> - -<p>A very troublesome horse, who broke his harness and -refused to be controlled, was named by her ‘Buzdil,’ or -‘Coward.’ ‘<em>I</em> never attempted to drive,’ she observed in -an April letter, ‘but exhorted him, when I was beside -Maria; but he never minded what I said.’ Then came -some ‘rough lines,’ adapted to an old Scotch air, ‘He’s a -terrible man, John Tod, John Tod!’</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘He’s a terrible horse, Buzdil, Buzdil,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">He’s a terrible horse, Buzdil!</div> -<div class="verse indent1">He gives start and skip,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Fears all—but the whip,</div> -<div class="verse">And cares not a straw for our will!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘He’s broken his harness, Buzdil, Buzdil,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">He’s broken his harness, Buzdil!</div> -<div class="verse indent1">He’d plunge in a hedge,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Or back on a ledge,</div> -<div class="verse">But when urged to go on—he stood still!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘He puzzles his syce, Buzdil, Buzdil,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">He worries his syce, Buzdil!</div> -<div class="verse indent1">If you take my advice,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">He’ll be sold in a trice,</div> -<div class="verse">Ere our poor Mission ladies he kill!’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Miss Tucker planned starting ‘a very sober, safe kind of -vehicle’ to carry to Church those who could not or might -not walk so far, even in cold weather. It was to be a -cart, with a cover to ward off the heat of the sun, and -was to be drawn by bullocks,—a humble conveyance, -which fact was no trouble at all to the mind of Charlotte -Tucker. The more humble, the better fitted in her estimation -for a Mission Miss Sahiba!</p> - -<p>In June she went for a complete change to Murree, and -was soon able, while there, to speak of herself as being -decidedly stronger, ‘able without injury to walk twice to -Church and back,’ despite a tough hill on the way.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[414]</a></span></p> - -<p>One friend, Mrs. Rowland Bateman, meeting her at this -time, wrote afterwards:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘It was so very delightful to see her dear face again, and so nice -to get her warm and loving welcome. You know what “pretty” -things she says; so on this occasion she said, “I came (to the -station) for silver, and I found gold!” Very pretty, was it not? -And now let me tell how I thought her looking. It is five years -since I saw her; so of course I saw a good deal of change. She is -looking very much older; but she is as bright as ever, cracking -jokes, and making us all laugh. Then of course, since her illness, -she is very thin, and that makes her face look older than she would -do, were she a little stouter. And she eats more than she used to -do. Five years ago she hardly ate enough to keep a sparrow alive.... -Another thing I was very glad of, and that was that she does -not attempt to do so much. She gives herself time to rest.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>In July Miss Tucker welcomed with eager pleasure a -present from her sister of an ‘excellent likeness’ of the -Queen. Charlotte Tucker’s love for Her Majesty went -far beyond ordinary loyalty. It was more of the nature -of a personal romantic passion.</p> - -<p>By the middle of August she was at work again. -Mr. Weitbrecht was now gone, and Mr. Corfield had been -seriously ill; so once more the School was for some time -without a Principal on the spot. Many of the boys did -not return to their homes for the holidays; indeed, some -young converts literally had no homes to go to. A. L. O. E. -therefore exercised her powers to find interests and -amusements for them. About this time also she started -Shakespeare readings in Batala, of which she says:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Aug. 11.</i>—Perhaps I told you that I had begun Shakespeare -readings. I had five readings of Henry <span class="smcapuc">VIII.</span>, with fair success; so -I thought that I would begin <cite>Macbeth</cite>, which I think the most -striking of all Shakespeare’s dramas. But it was a dead failure -here! The Natives could not understand it; and those who came -to the first reading were <i lang="la">non inventus</i> at the—what would have been -the second reading. So I have changed my book, and intend to-day -to begin to read aloud my Laura’s capital present, the particularly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[415]</a></span> -amusing <cite>Life of Buckland</cite>. Fish instead of furies!—salmon instead -of slaughter!’</p> - -</div> - -<p>From many letters it may be seen that she was soon in -a steady swing again, both with Zenana and with Village -visiting; but the amount attempted seems to have been -more moderate than formerly. Few quotations must -suffice:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Oct. 15, 1886.</i>—Now I will tell you about a visit which I paid -yesterday to a Zenana, where the Bibi used to be very bigoted. -Yesterday I came on her husband, a grave, middle-aged man. So -he heard what I had to say. Then he asked me to give him <em>a -picture of Christ</em>. Very strict Muhammadans object to pictures; -but he wanted one of the Saviour. I, as a rule, never give pictures, -though I show them; but I happened to have three small pictures, -cut out from periodicals,—not coloured,—and I felt impelled to grant -the grave man’s request. I let him choose. He took the copy of -the famous picture—is it not Leonardo da Vinci’s?—of the Blessed -One, crowned with thorns, and put it carefully by in a paper. Will -that suffering, pathetic Face speak to the Muhammadan’s heart? -N. is no unlearned man. He told me that he had been our -K. B.’s teacher. “Were you angry with K. B.?” I asked,—meaning -for becoming a Christian! The grave man quietly replied in the -negative.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Nov. 6.</i>—I have lately been paying more attention to children -in the Zenanas,—partly perhaps because they seem to pay more -attention to what I say. When they listen in perfect stillness, one -cannot but hope that the young hearts are receiving some seed of -life. I had very quiet, attentive little listeners in a Zenana yesterday. -When I went to another, some of the children followed me, but the -bibi forbade them to come in. In vain I pleaded that they did not -make the least noise; she bade them go and play. But after I had -read to that woman, and proceeded to another house, children -came after me, I think two or three of the same ones. That little -book, with gaily-coloured pictures, about little Daisy, which you sent -me, is invaluable....’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Miss Krapf in her turn had had a serious breakdown; -and she did not return to Batala. In her place, towards -the end of the year, came Miss Minnie Dixie, who was to -be Miss Tucker’s constant companion and fellow-inmate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[416]</a></span> -of the Mission Bungalow for seven years or more. By -the time Miss Dixie arrived, as ‘Sonnenschein’ was made -only to take in two ladies, and Miss Hoernle was still -there, Miss Tucker had doubtless moved into her own -little annexe,—the new west wing of the Bungalow, which -she had prettily named ‘Sunset!’</p> - -<p>A ground-plan of the Bungalow gives a good idea of this -latest earthly home of Charlotte Tucker. One large room -was divided by screens into bedroom and sitting-room. -In front and behind were verandahs; while one side was -joined to ‘Sonnenschein,’ and on the other lay dressing-room -and bathroom. Miss Tucker lived in her own tiny -‘Sunset,’ but she took her meals with the other ladies in -‘Sunshine,’ and their evenings were often, if not regularly, -spent together. ‘We are a happy little band of Europeans -at Batala,’ she wrote in the November of 1886.</p> - -<p>The year closed with a characteristic little episode, by -which it might be seen that the old energy and impetuosity -were by no means snuffed out of existence. A young -lady, not of the Batala party, was going to a certain -doctor at ——, of whose skill Miss Tucker was more than -dubious. She had, as we have seen, no very flattering -opinion of the medical faculty in general; always with -charming exceptions, where personal intercourse interfered -with theories. On the present occasion it was not -a man but ‘a dreadful woman doctor’ in the case. On -learning that all was arranged, Miss Tucker exclaimed, -‘You shall not go alone, dear. I will go with you.’ And -go she did; regardless of age, of weakness, of cold -weather, of long journeying.</p> - -<p>Nor was this all! On reaching ——, Miss Tucker was -so utterly dissatisfied with the apparent state of things, -that she flatly refused to give up the patient to the doctor. -After what she describes as ‘a fight,—will against will!’ -she fairly carried off her charge to the house of a friend<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[417]</a></span> -in the place; and next day ran away with her, by train, -to a distant town. The patient happily fell thereafter -into kind and skilful hands; and Charlotte Tucker congratulated -herself upon her own prompt and decisive -action. Whether or no her fears were well founded, one -cannot but admire her self-sacrificing readiness to endure -any amount of worry, fatigue, and responsibility on behalf -of another. The last thing Charlotte Tucker ever did -was ‘to pass by on the other side,’ when a human being -was in need of help. She never dreamt of sparing herself.</p> - -<p>Many letters this year bear reference to the different -pretty and useful articles sent out by friends and working-parties -for sale or for gifts. With respect to those for -sale, she did indeed exclaim in one letter: ‘I wish dear -kind friends would sell the things themselves, and simply -give us the money! They do not think of the added -difficulty of insects and climate! I fear that a good -many things get spoiled.’ This however was not the -usual strain in which she acknowledged such parcels. -Here are a few specimen sentences, culled from letters of -different dates, to Miss Longley:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I received your kind letter to-day, and do not delay thanking you -heartily for the account of what the dear Warwickshire children are -doing for the Mission cause.... The dolls are capital gifts to send. -Our little Fatimas and Barakats, etc., like them so much.’</p> - -<p>‘Your very nice box of attractive dolls, those that can open and -shut their eyes, and a number of prettily-dressed sisters clustering -together like birdies in a nest, safely reached me to-day.... They -have come in excellent time, for our annual examination has been -delayed.... How pleased our little Panjabi maidens will be with -their dolls,—even blind girls would be charmed, I think! The clever -dolls that can open and shut their eyes ought to be very special -prizes.... Dolls are great favourites with Native children, and I do -not wonder at this. The Native toys look very coarse beside the -elegantly-dressed little ladies from dear old England.’</p> - -<p>‘Dolls are much liked by our dark-eyed little maidens. Not only -little girls; but I suspect that many a mother would be pleased to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[418]</a></span> -possess one of the quiet, rosy-cheeked babies from England, that never -cry nor give any trouble. Your useful work-basket must, I think, be -presented to some Native Christian girl who is fond of work.... -Native Christians also would, I think, most value the scrap-books -so kindly prepared. At Christmas we have a bran-pie, only for -Christians, and we have to get ready about eighty gifts, even in this -out-of-the-way Batala. I begin my preparations very early. I -assure you that our children are not “black.” Some of the Natives -are quite pretty, and I think not darker than Spaniards. I every -now and then see a child with brown hair, perhaps curly.’</p> - -<p>‘We have numbers of young people here. It would amuse some -of your workers to hear a few of their names translated. We have -amongst girls, Flower, Beloved, Lady of Light, An Offering, etc.,—amongst -boys, Valiant, Feet of Christ, Diamond-pearl, Welfare, etc. -A nice young convert has the pretty name of “Gift of the Merciful.” -A little boy is “The Mercy of God.” His father’s name is “The -Power of God.” Fancy a number of dark-eyed men, women, and -children, with these curious names, assembled around our bran-pie -(it is really a bath), and some of the pretty presents from Warwick -popping out to delight them.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Dolls are spoken of again and again, as if too many -could not possibly be sent; but many other things are -mentioned also,—such as antimacassars, pretty handkerchiefs, -boxes of sugar-plums, a nice inkstand, and so on. -An unlimited amount of presents for Indian Christians at -Christmas-time was evidently a pressing need. Articles -for sale had to be sent to Amritsar or elsewhere, as there -was no demand for them in Batala.</p> - -<p>In February 1887 two little ones came to her for a short -stay at Batala on their way to England,—the tiny grandchildren -of her brother, Mr. St. George Tucker. Children -had always a great attraction for her; and immediately -letters became full of the small pair, their pretty ways and -sayings and doings. Miss Tucker had to make arrangements -for their journey home. Writing on March 17 to -her niece, Miss Edith Tucker, she exclaims:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘O these children! they are such darlings! Edie will not be -three till the 19th, but she is as sensible as if double the age; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[419]</a></span> -seems to take a sort of care of her brother. She is such an honourable -little girl too. Mrs. C., the very nice matron here, has been -very much struck by this. “It must be hereditary,” she said; “she -could not have got it from her ayah.”<a name="FNanchor_118" id="FNanchor_118"></a><a href="#Footnote_118" class="fnanchor">[118]</a> ... My heart feels very -tender towards the loving pets, whom I shall never see on earth -again. God grant us a joyful meeting before the Throne!...</p> - -<p>‘I sometimes think how proud dear Sir Frederick Abbott<a name="FNanchor_119" id="FNanchor_119"></a><a href="#Footnote_119" class="fnanchor">[119]</a> will be -of his descendants. Please congratulate him and dear Lady Abbott -from me.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>In another letter, about the same date, and also on the -subject of the children, written to Miss Alice Tucker, -A. L. O. E. speaks of having been kicked by a horse in a -small Muhammadan courtyard,—happily not a severe kick. -The horse struck out sharply, but she had just stepped -back, and the force of the blow was also broken by the -umbrella which she held. She escaped therefore with -only ‘a harmless contusion.’ It might have been a very -grave accident.</p> - -<p>On March 26 comes a short letter to Mrs. Hamilton, -jubilant at the thought of a visit from her friend, Mr. -Francis Baring:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘To-day my darlings embark on the wide, wide ocean, dear little -“travellers by land and by water”! What sweet blossoms of the -fourth generation grow on our honoured Father’s family tree! I am -sure that you think <em>your</em> pet no exception....</p> - -<p>‘I received a note the other day, which made my heart joyful: it -was from Mera Bhatija.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">“He’s coming again! he’s coming again!</div> -<div class="verse">Oh, but he’s been long awa’,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Far frae his ain,” etc.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>He is coming all the way from M——, for Batala’s ninth birthday. -I correct the boys’ letters to-day, and am pleased at the tone in -which they write regarding his coming.</p> - -<p>‘R. “Won’t it be a grand thing to see our dear old Principal -again?” R. C. “The Rev. F. H. Baring will be here, and I hope -there will be a grand feast, and racing, jumping, etc. How happy -we shall be to see the father of our school!” ... I shall like to look<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[420]</a></span> -at dear Babu Singha’s face, when he grasps the hand of his old -patron.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Another letter, April 6, refers to a slight operation which -she had had to undergo, for continued weakness of one -eye. ‘It needed the prick of the lancet and the entrance -of the probe. It was a mere trifle of an operation; -Henry<a name="FNanchor_120" id="FNanchor_120"></a><a href="#Footnote_120" class="fnanchor">[120]</a> is so gentle and kind, she wrote cheerily; then, -later in the same letter: ‘Now I must be off for church. -We have a great deal of church-going in this Holy Week. I -have to play the harmonium to-day. This week Minnie -and I have been taking the privilege alternately.’</p> - -<p>She was greatly interested this year in a young -Muhammadan, who seemed much disposed towards -Christianity, yet was never able to make up his mind or -to act with decision. He appeared, as she said in one -letter, to have clearly ‘two wills,—one desiring Baptism,’ -the other drawing him among the enemies of Christianity. -‘He swings from good to evil like a very pendulum,’ she -observed. ‘We cannot keep him from the Muhammadans; -yet the Muhammadans cannot keep him from Christ.’ In -another May letter she wrote of him: ‘B. P. interested me -yesterday by trying to make me get one of the boys here -off with the latter part of a punishment. “You are a kind -of mother,” said he. “When the father is angry, the mother -should plead.” Natives do not clearly understand about -discipline and justice; even Christian Natives are apt to -think that offenders should be quickly forgiven, however -disastrous the results might be. Abstract justice to the -Oriental sometimes looks like revenge. How often have I -heard Muhammadans say, “God is the Forgiver!”—with -this they put conscience to rest. But a good many, called -Christians, fall into the dangerous mistake of imagining -the pure holy God to be too loving to be just. It is the -echo of Satan’s lie, “Ye shall <em>not</em> surely die.”’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[421]</a></span></p> - -<p>In June came one of the heaviest blows of all her -Missionary career,—a very dark shadow indeed upon its -brightness. This was the sudden and unexpected apostasy -of one who for years had belonged to their little band of -Christians,—one of the first Native Christians whom she -had learnt to know on her earliest arrival at Amritsar,—one -whom she had loved and trusted, and whom she had -looked upon as not only a follower of Christ by profession -but in very truth. She felt the defection of this man with -exceeding acuteness. He has been once or twice already -referred to as Z., or Maulvi Z., and he might have -been referred to dozens of times. The first letter on this -sad subject to Mrs. Hamilton was written while Miss -Tucker was away from home, staying with Mr. and Mrs. -Francis Baring.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>June 23, 1887.</i>—I am certainly stronger, and should like the visit -to the dear excellent Barings much, if I had not such troubles. From -Batala Mission has come such a shock! Fancy Maulvi Z. and -his family going over to the Muhammadans,—he who for about -twelve years had been such a well-known member of the Church,—she -who for eighteen months worked as an Honorary Bible-woman! -Both, with their nice eldest son, took the Communion with me this -very month! It is terrible! The wretched Maulvi is to receive 40s. -for teaching in an opposition school, just set up to injure our Mission -School.... The Muhammadans have had rejoicings and fireworks,—the -enemies of the Lord will triumph and blaspheme. But I -believe that Z. has no faith in the false prophet, and that he <em>has</em> -loved the Saviour. The prodigal may come back, but probably after -terrible judgments, for he is sinning against light and love. I have -not the heart to write on other subjects.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>June 29, 1887.</i>—I propose starting for Batala early on Monday -the 11th. I must be in time for the prize-givings and a feast. Mera -Bhatija had a letter to-day from ——, who does not think that Z.’s -terrible apostasy has done any harm to the Christian cause in Batala. -The more respectable Muhammadans do not trust him, and our -preachers are listened to as well as before. But oh, the wretched -man himself and his family! I must not dwell on a subject which -has made me so unhappy.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[422]</a></span></p> - -<p>She could not, however, keep from recurring to it once -and again, as darker details came out. Indignation at -the conduct of the apostate was equalled by her pity for -the unhappy man himself. Writing on July 29, still on -the same subject, she said: ‘He did harm in the school -while teaching here. Some of the Muhammadans -despise him. A most sarcastic, <em>withering</em> article has -come out in a Muhammadan newspaper against the -apostate.’</p> - -<p>On reaching home another trial assailed her. One of -her most trusted servants, mentioned repeatedly as V., -proved to be utterly dishonest, and had to be dismissed. -Miss Tucker felt this too very acutely. ‘In all my -Missionary life,’ she wrote on July 16, ‘I never knew such -a year as this.’</p> - -<p>Miss Dixie was at this time away, and two or three -short extracts from letters to her may be given:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>July 18, 1887.</i>—Welcome, dearest Minnie, <em>home</em>! We are to -have a picnic in celebration of your return. Please travel in a duli, -if the roads are very bad, as they are pretty sure to be. Tell us when -and where to send for you. We have had many troubles at Batala -since you left,—the unhappy Maulvi not only apostatising himself -and family, but slandering his former friends right and left. I have -dismissed V., and P. has followed him. A sight of your dear kind -face will be a cheer to your affectionate Auntie.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>July 30.</i>—What an adventurous journey my dearest Minnie had! -Thank God, dear, that you are all safe and right.... I seem always -to be asking you to excuse short letters; but the fact is that almost -everything is an effort to me. I just manage to get through a little -work, but seem not to be able for much correspondence just at -present.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Aug. 10.</i>—I am glad that you are well and happy. You must not -think that I forget you, because I write little. It is rather a case of -“duties thronging round,” and not much strength to perform them.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Aug. 16.</i>—We have had <em>such</em> floods! On Sunday there was no -attempt to reach the large Church. There was Service in Anarkalli;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[423]</a></span> -but <em>that</em> was surrounded with water. Some went on horseback, some -in dulis.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>One letter to Mrs. Hamilton contains a brief description -of her own work:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Aug. 31.</i>—I go, you know, to city work in the morning. After -our late breakfast I have a succession of people coming. For instance, -to-day,—1st, Munshi and four boys. 2nd, A convert came, to read -the Bible to me. 3rd, A teacher came, for me to explain difficult -English idioms. 4th, Three lads for English lessons. 5th, A fourth -lad more advanced. You see, love, that this is not a sleepy life, -though in this warm weather I usually get some sleep in the daytime. -I like having the dear boys. They have done much to keep the -heart green under various Missionary discouragements.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>On the 9th of September, responding to Mrs. Hamilton’s -letter upon the unhappy subject related above, she said:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I fear that I cannot share your hopes.... A man who for nearly -twelve years passed as a Christian, took the Sacrament not many -days before he became apostate, spoke coarsely of the Holy -Communion to Muhammadans, and bitterly of Christians, ... seems -to me <em>almost</em> past hope. He has, as far as he could, “crucified the -Son of God afresh” and “put Him to an open shame.” ... Instead -of, as you sweetly write, “bitterly lamenting, like St. Peter,” poor -Z. day by day sits by his mosque, deceiving the people.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>One more quotation on this sad subject may be made -from a letter, dated April 12, 1889, when Miss Tucker was -perplexed what to do about seeing some relatives of the -unhappy apostate, who were staying with him. ‘Bishop -French excommunicated —— (we do not call him Z. -now), and forbade Christians having intercourse with -him.... It would clearly be wrong to throw over the ——s, -who had <em>not</em> left the Fold. I asked counsel from Herbert, -and guidance from One Higher.’ Eventually she did -manage to see the relatives while avoiding the apostate.</p> - -<p>Until the year 1886 Miss Tucker apparently kept no -regular written record of her daily work. But in the -August of that year, doubtless from a sense that her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[424]</a></span> -memory was becoming less trustworthy than of old, she -started a Journal, which was kept up until within three -weeks or so of her death. The Journal consists of 273 -closely written foolscap pages; and, as Miss Wauton says, -they ‘give us a glimpse of the earnest, unremitting toil of -those seven years in the Batala Zenanas.’ The volume -opens with a list of about 173 names of those whom she -was then visiting; and this continued to be about the -average number throughout the seven years; some Zenanas -being from time to time closed, while new ones were -opened. To quote again from Miss Wauton, whose long -Indian and Missionary experience renders her judgment -especially valuable:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘Besides being a record of Zenana work, the Diary records many -little incidents in connection with the daily life; <i>e.g.</i> notices of the -arrivals and departures of fellow-workers, and of the many friends -and visitors who came to see her. There are numerous references -to the boys of the Baring High School, any sickness or death -amongst them, the subjects taken in her classes with them and with -the boys of the Mission Plough.... All speak of the many objects -embraced by her wide sympathies. But the Zenana teaching is -always first and foremost. Other things come in, as it were, by the -way. The whole Diary shows how carefully and methodically she -carried on this visiting, and what infinite pains she took to find out -and invent things which would help to attract the people, and open -the way for the delivery of her message.</p> - -<p>‘Her inventive genius enabled her to do this very effectively; and -the wonderful pictures and allegorical designs she took with her -opened many doors, which would have probably remained fast barred -against a less winning visitor. These charms were very varied. -She seems generally to have taken one with her to every place she -went to; and to have changed it from time to time, as the lesson to -be taught from it had been learnt, or the novelty had worn off.</p> - -<p>‘These are all entered in the Diary as “Ladder,” “Jewel,” -“Zouave,” “Pagoda,” “Prism,” “Crosses,” “Tree,” “Purse,” etc. -The first was a ladder, painted in various colours, showing the -different steps by which the sinner mounts up from grace to glory. -The second is a jewel, covered over with several pieces of cloth, -representing the different veils, such as ignorance, prejudice,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[425]</a></span> -self-righteousness, which, covering man’s heart, conceal from his view -and hinder his attainment of the jewel of Truth. But these contrivances -were not the only key with which these bigoted Zenanas -were opened. We find in the Journal frequent memoranda of little -gifts to be taken to certain houses,—“sandcloth,” on the occasion of -a wedding or birth, “medicine,” “quinine,” “spectacles,” “tea,” -“soap,” etc. The Scripture subjects spoken upon each day are also -entered....</p> - -<p>‘Her love of children was remarkable; and in many cases, where -the elder members of the household refused to listen, she would get an -interested audience from amongst the little ones. She writes in one -place, “Such nice children!” in another, “I found myself stroking -little cheeks.” ... Another striking feature of Miss Tucker was -the courage and indomitable perseverance which she showed in the -most difficult and trying circumstances. “Nil Desperandum” was -her favourite motto, and she carried it out fully. Sometimes she -was rudely treated, sometimes even insulted; but nothing daunted -her.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Here are a few specimen extracts from the Journal, -including one or two of unusual length. The majority are -exceedingly short. I do not give the correct initials for -either Zenanas or people:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Aug. 24, 1886.</i>—A. very nice sick father, twelve quiet children; -Mark ii.</p> - -<p>B. a little better, Christ blessing children.</p> - -<p>C. disappointing; outburst of bigotry; M. however silent.</p> - -<p>D. friendly; read three parables. Good listening.</p> - -<p>E. very indifferent. Bibis. Mark vii. N. left.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p><i>Aug. 25.</i>—F. fair.</p> - -<p>G. Had very nice talk with him. Prodigal Son. From John iii. -New. H.’s nice wife. Seemed almost Christian. Ditto.</p> - -<p>J. nice. Boy, ——, promised book if he comes. From Matt. x.</p> - -<p>K. Send cloth to new baby. Read a little of Xt.’s Birth.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p><i>Aug. 26.</i>—L. careless.... I do not remember what I read....</p> - -<p>M. Only children attended. Children A., D.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p><i>Sept. 1.</i>—L. very cross, ill-tempered, loud voice. Rebuked by -elder woman. I showed picture of Christ healing, quoted “Learn of -Me.” After a while face quite softened, voice subdued.... Last -thing promised she would go to church....’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">[426]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Dec. 15, 1886.</i>—Rudely treated. Man with unpleasant face and -blemished eye shook the charpai (bedstead) on which I was seated -four times, to make me get off. Went to second place; people -noisy. A man asked me to read of Christ, and I began. Was asked -to go to more open place. Went,—found open place was the <em>outside</em> -of the village. Had to go off.</p> - -<p>‘B. H. (another village). Rejected here also. Even a tiny clod -was thrown. I told people at both villages that I prayed God to -forgive them for their conduct to His servant. Ours is a religion of -love.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Jan. 28, 1887.</i>—P. very nice. Q., a youth, hearing of Last -Judgment, says that he wants to be a right-side one, and will pray to -be so. He is going to marry; says wife and he will both be right -side. He means to send her to our school. He learned in Mission -Plough.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>May 12, 1887.</i> ... (List of names.) Except ——‘s house, none -really satisfactory. My heart very sad. There seems hardly any -good ground in Batala.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The names of Zenanas, villages, and people living in -either, are generally printed in dark letters on the left side -of the page, while the coming and going of Missionaries -and friends, as well as items of home news, are printed on -the right side. On February 15, 1887, is the terse entry, -‘Operation on eye’; and the very next day, almost equally -terse, ‘I was kicked by a horse.’ Towards the end of the -same month is a characteristic notice of the death of one -of her nieces, printed large: ‘<span class="smcap">Vesa left earth!</span>’ Death -to her meant simply this,—leaving Earth for a ‘better -Country.’</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">[427]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="II_CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1887-1888<br /> -A VISIT FROM BISHOP FRENCH</span></h3> - -<p>One matter of marked interest in the year 1887 was the -retirement of Bishop French from the Bishopric of Lahore, -and his return to the humbler post of simple Missionary. -This step appealed strongly to Miss Tucker’s sense of -admiration. On the 8th of October she wrote to Mrs. -Hamilton:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I have already, as you see, written a good deal by this mail, ... -but I will not let the post for England go without at least a few loving -lines to my own dearest sister. The dear good Bishop is resigning. -I hear that he feels it sorely; but he has no intention of leaving -work. He resigns the <em>English</em> part into what he feels to be stronger -hands,—but will, I believe, continue Missionary work amongst -Natives. He was <em>first</em> a Missionary; and—dear man!—it is not -improbable that he will die a Missionary. To lay down a mitre is -no degradation!’</p> - -</div> - -<p>A few days later, having heard that the Bishop purposed -paying her a little visit at Batala, she wrote to him direct:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>Oct. 20, 1887</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Revered Bishop</span>,—Though I know not whether this will reach you -till after your return from Batala, I cannot forbear thanking you for -your affectionate letter, and intention of gratifying me by visiting my -simple little Missionary home. I received your letter at Amritsar, -having—for a wonder—left Batala to be present at the wedding of dear -old Mr. Newton’s grandson at Ludhiana. This has occasioned a little -delay in my replying. Mr. Corfield also was absent, having gone to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[428]</a></span> -bring his wife from Dharmsala; but we expect him to-morrow -morning, and then he shall know your wishes. I think that you will -find the Ghurub-i-Aftab very quiet. You will see visitors or not, just -as you please,—only give a hint of your wishes. When the dear -Lord’s Servants honour me with a visit, I say that they gild my -floors.</p> - -<p>‘If it be not presumptuous in me to say so, I would express my -feeling that there is something beautiful and elevating in the idea of -one who was a Missionary before he was a Bishop, becoming a -Missionary <em>after</em> leaving his Bishopric; laying down the crozier and -mitre, to take up the simple Evangelist’s staff. Perhaps, my honoured -Friend,—if permitted to call you so,—your grandest work is yet to -come.—Yours with affectionate respect,</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">C. M. Tucker</span>.</p> - -<p>‘<i>P.S.</i>—Please offer my affectionate and grateful remembrances to -dear Mrs. French.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The Bishop’s visit came about, as hoped for; and it -was a great pleasure to Miss Tucker to receive him. -Although they might differ on certain points, they -were one in absolute love and obedience to the same -Lord and Master; and each thoroughly appreciated, -thoroughly delighted in, the whole-hearted and single -devotion of the other. In some respects the two were -much alike. There was in both, as Dr. Weitbrecht has -said, ‘a fiery impatience of difficulty or delay which sometimes -led to mistakes.’ In both also there was a remarkable -<em>upliftedness</em>,—if the word is permissible,—an absorption -in things spiritual, which made earthly matters seem -altogether unimportant by comparison.</p> - -<p>The one drawback to Miss Tucker’s enjoyment was that -she gave up to the Bishop her own little ‘house,’—and -such changes had at her time of life grown to be somewhat -of a trial. But she would not hear of a gentleman being -permitted to sleep in ‘Sonnenschein,’ with the younger -ladies,—not even her beloved and revered Bishop!! She -had not perhaps entirely even yet lost sight of her old -favourite idea of a home for Mission Miss Sahibas, into -which a man’s foot might not enter. At all events, she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">[429]</a></span> -decided to sleep there herself, and to give up her little -Sunset home to the Bishop. Which she did.</p> - -<p>‘It was beautiful to see them together,’ Miss Dixie has -said, when speaking of this visit, which lasted somewhat -under a week. The Bishop and Miss Tucker went about -in company, attended church together, and had many a -long talk,—both of them white-haired, fragile in look, worn -out with heavy toil, aged beyond their years. Both would -be so utterly absorbed in the subject under discussion, as -to see nothing around, to hear nothing that went on. -There was about each of them a remarkable <em>Other-worldliness</em>, -to use a curious term, sometimes employed in this -sense. They were citizens of Heaven, not of Earth; and -they realised the fact to an extent not often equalled.</p> - -<p>But with all her ‘Other-worldliness,’ Miss Tucker never -lost the sense of fun and humour, as connected with the -things of this world. One amusing little incident is told -of the Bishop’s visit. He had brought with him a -Muhammadan manservant. Miss Tucker habitually kept -in her cupboard a small bottle of brandy, in case of need,—the -brandy being well dosed with quinine, to render it -unattractive. When the Bishop was gone, this little bottle -was found to have vanished also. Miss Tucker, on making -the discovery, went back to her friends, to exclaim, with an -indescribable expression, ‘That greedy Muhammadan has -taken the brandy?’—then bursting into a fit of laughter at -the thought of his surprise on tasting the quinine. She -often referred to this afterwards with great amusement.</p> - -<p>It was remarkable in A. L. O. E. that she still, in old -age, remembered and carefully followed in small matters her -parents’ wishes. Not of course that her life was shaped -by them. Probably old Mr. Tucker would have disapproved -of few things more highly than of a woman undertaking -such work as she undertook; but here she followed -the dictates of her own conscience. In slighter questions,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[430]</a></span> -where conscience was not involved, she loved to do what -they had of old desired. Still, as always, she rose early to -work, and went to bed in good time, according to the promise -given long, long before. Still, when she drank afternoon -tea, she always took something to eat with it, because ‘her -Mother had liked her to do so.’ And often, though old and -weak, when she caught herself to be stooping, she still would -pull herself sharply upright, and say: ‘I remembered,—my -dear Father always wanted me to sit straight.’</p> - -<p>While habitually much interested in engagements and -marriages, she was particular as to modes of speech on such -subjects. Once or twice, when some girl-visitor spoke with -what she considered an unbecoming lightness, upon some -matter of love or love-making, Miss Tucker observed, after -the girl’s departure,—‘My dear, what a vulgar person!!’</p> - -<p>The same curious diversity of opinion as to particular -points of Miss Tucker’s character which was observable in -her English life, is also observable in her Indian life. Here -again are opposite opinions. One says, ‘She was so -peculiarly sympathetic!’ Another, with equally good -opportunities for judging, says, ‘Exceedingly kind, but -not sympathetic.’ One says, ‘She was so well able to put -herself into the place of another in trouble!’ Another -says, ‘No tact; the kindest intentions, but she did not -always know how to manage.’</p> - -<p>The explanation lies, no doubt, at least in part, in her -own many-sidedness, and in the very different manner in -which she was affected by different people. Some appealed -to her tenderness; some only called out her kindliness. -She could and did love intensely; but only in particular -cases: and though to a wide outer circle she gave love, it was -of a less ardent nature. Moreover, she <em>could</em> dislike people; -and when she once took a marked dislike, though this -was seldom, it would be not quite easy to make her view -with fairness that person’s doings.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">[431]</a></span></p> - -<p>She was very impulsive still; the same eager, enthusiastic -warm-hearted being, who had lived in girlhood at -No. 3,—modified, but not intrinsically different. Possibly, -in old age, with weakened health, after living practically -much alone, the natural tendency to hasty judgments -may have somewhat increased. But if so, there was also -an increase in the spirit of humility, a far greater readiness -than of old to acknowledge herself mistaken or in the -wrong. By nature she was not gentle and had not self-control; -and physical weakness doubtless often rendered the -fight harder,—yet she persevered in the fight with never-failing -resolution.</p> - -<p>Sometimes she would hear of a thing done by one of -the younger Missionaries, and would at once condemn it, -not waiting to learn all the circumstances, and speaking -with some severity. A few days later something would -turn up, explaining more fully the why and the wherefore -of the action in question; and then she would say frankly, -‘Well, I think I was wrong, after all! I think you were -right to do as you did!’ A smaller and less noble nature -would probably have refused to see the mistake, and would -have clung obstinately to its own way of thinking.</p> - -<p>Although she would occasionally <em>speak</em> hastily, she did -not as a rule <em>write</em> hastily. If she could not in her -letters praise a person, she would cease to bring forward -that person’s name,—at all events in letters meant for -general reading.</p> - -<p>It may also be noted here that, as time went on, Charlotte -Tucker, in her extreme desire for Missionary simplicity -and economy, had become a little apt to push -matters in that direction to an excess. Few people are -constituted as she was, to toil hard and to live long upon -the smallest possible minimum of food. As some of the -weakness of old age crept over her, she was perhaps not -always <em>quite</em> reasonable respecting Missionary requirements<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432">[432]</a></span> -and necessities. She would at times seem to expect -others, for the sake of economy, to do with what she -herself found sufficient, but which to their different constitutions -meant something like semi-starvation. This at -least is the impression of one who ought to be accounted -a good judge, and it appears to have been in some degree -a trouble to certain of her companions.</p> - -<p>During all those long years of Indian life, amid the -variety of people with whom she was thrown, while there -were many whom she could love, and some whom she -could love most warmly, there were also naturally a few -who did not suit her, any more than she suited them. She -may have been somewhat of a trial to them; and undoubtedly -they were very much of a trial to her; yet despite all -her natural impetuosity and impatience of disposition, she -bore long and patiently in such cases. As one says, who was -with her in some of those later years, ‘Although sometimes -hasty in judging, she was also capable of much forbearance.’</p> - -<p>It is noticeable that one who knew her well speaks of a -remarkable softening and increase of gentleness during -the last three years of her life. Naturally very ‘up and -down’ in her moods, she became then far more uniformly -bright. The fruit was growing very ripe, almost ready to -drop from the tree. Miss Wauton, too, tells of the growing -loveliness of expression in her face, as the end drew nearer. -But we have not yet quite arrived at those last three years.</p> - -<p>By this time Miss Tucker was a little apt to fall behind -in new methods of work, and to cling to what was old-fashioned. -Needful changes in the High School were at -first a trouble to her, even though they might be real -improvements, tending to render the school more efficient. -She liked, for instance, to drop in at odd hours, and to -‘take a class,’ after the manner of an English squire’s -daughter dropping into the village school. As numbers -and discipline increased it was found to be not always a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[433]</a></span> -convenient plan, and objections were made. Miss Tucker -one day, in a fit of depression at having to give up this -and other things, is recorded to have said, ‘My work -is done! I don’t care how soon I go now!’</p> - -<p>This happily was a mere passing fit of sadness. It was -soon after arranged that a Class of the older youths -should go to her for instruction on Sunday afternoons; -and in the class she found very great interest. She would -also ask her ‘dear boys,’ a few at a time, to spend week-day -evenings with her, for games of play, which she -enjoyed fully as much as they did. She was very much -beloved by the boys; and they were no less delighted to -come to her than she was to have them. Her influence -over these boys, over Indian Christians generally, and over -most of the Missionaries with whom she came in contact, -will never be forgotten.</p> - -<p>The springy step of earlier years was not quite lost, even -in old age. Another thing that she kept remarkably long -was, as earlier stated, her voice for singing. It had of -course grown thin and weak, and was now a good deal -cracked; still she did not sing out of tune; and her enjoyment -in singing never failed. It was with her the natural -expression of her feelings. When she sang in Church, and -when she played the harmonium, her whole face would -light up in a marvellous manner. Indians—not Christians—would -walk long distances, and be present in -Church, simply to look upon the face of the Buzurg Miss -Sahiba, as she sang or played. Such an illumination on -the face of a human being was counted well worth some -exertion to see. Another account tells of a Native who -would go to Church for the express purpose of watching -her look, when she recited the <em>Gloria</em>. It was all so <em>real</em> -to A. L. O. E. Her very smile was a sermon in itself.</p> - -<p>All these years Zenana teaching went steadfastly on. -She ever had before her mind a keen sense that her own<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[434]</a></span> -call might come before another morning’s dawn, and that -the present might be her last opportunity of speaking. -Sometimes she would be depressed when reading of others -who had had more apparent results to their work; yet -through countless discouragements she never slackened.</p> - -<p>The same Native Christian from whom I have quoted -earlier as to the non-success, in his opinion, of her -Missionary labours, says also about Miss Tucker: ‘She -was far from being a good judge of the Indian character. -I remember her pointing to a Native Christian, and saying -that the very light of Heaven was being reflected from -his countenance, when in fact he had almost apostatised.’ -But this was simply a repetition of the old tendency to -think always the very best of everybody,—the habit being -cultivated to such an excess as materially to interfere -with her powers of perception in particular cases. It -does not touch the question of her general understanding -of the Indian character. Penetration, as to individuals, -was hardly one of her gifts; and few would hesitate -to agree to the assertion that she thought a great deal -better of many Natives than, unfortunately, they deserved. -Her eyes were opened slowly through bitter and repeated -disappointments. But to the last she would probably -have preferred to be sometimes deceived, rather than to be -always suspecting.</p> - -<p>In the continuous pressure of her work and trials, Charlotte -Tucker was a woman of prayer. Not that she was -given to long and wordy outpourings; but she lived on the -border-land of the Unseen, and she held incessant intercourse -with her Divine Master. Whatever she felt, whatever -she wanted, when she was afraid, when she was depressed, -when things went wrong, when she could not see her way, -the first impulse of her heart was always—prayer! Then -she would wait to see His Will.</p> - -<p>Systematic as were the entries in her Journal, those last<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">[435]</a></span> -few years of life, she was apt to be a little forgetful,—which -no doubt was the very reason that she started the Journal. -She would come in and say to Miss Dixie, ‘Such a sweet -young Bibi in a Zenana to-day, dear. She wants to see -you.’ When Miss Dixie asked where the young Bibi lived, -her recollections were confused, and she could not say. The -name of Bibi, husband, and house had all escaped. Miss -Dixie would then have to question the bearers as to where -they had taken Miss Tucker, and so find out particulars.</p> - -<p>The writing of books and booklets still continued to -some extent; indeed, it could not have been long before -this that she achieved a good-sized volume for young -English readers, called—<cite>Pictures of St. Peter in an English -Home</cite>. As its name might imply, it was controversial in -character, being written against the errors of the Roman -Church. She could not, however, work so hard now with -her pen as in earlier years. Dr. Weitbrecht states that -‘her books for publication in England, the proceeds of -which went to support local work, were mostly written -during her brief summer holiday. It was when she felt -her powers failing in this line that she set aside part of her -patrimony to endow the “Mission Plough.”’</p> - -<p>The absence of allusions to her own writings in years of -correspondence is remarkable. Once in a way she speaks -of what she is doing, but this is quite the exception. Her -natural reserve showed strongly here. She had also a -curious dislike to being questioned—a fact noticed by -relatives in her English life years before; and one of her -Missionary companions tells of it also. If questions were -put direct, she would say, ‘I am not your Mother-Superior; -don’t appeal to me!’—when her questioner was -longing to have the benefit of her years of experience. A -story is told of one gentleman, who came from a considerable -distance, on purpose to consult Miss Tucker -about some books that he meant to publish. The call was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">[436]</a></span> -a failure. Instead of gradually getting into conversation, -and luring her on to tell what she knew, he asked point-blank -the things that he wanted to hear; and the result was -<em>nil</em>. On his way back to the station, he inquired whether -Miss Tucker had not lost her memory. Not at all, he was -told,—but direct questioning always checked information.</p> - -<p>In the November of 1887 the small Star-Dispensary was -opened by Dr. Weitbrecht, for Miss Dixie. She had undergone -some training in England; and though not ‘qualified,’ -she had it in her power to do much more for the women -and children of the neighbourhood than their own people -could do for them. Many objections have been made to the -idea of a Dispensary anywhere, without a properly qualified -doctor; and no doubt as soon as possible the latter should -in all cases be supplied. But where a doctor cannot be had, -then in default of what is better, a trained nurse can do a -great deal to help, in ordinary cases of sickness or accident. -The reception given to this little Dispensary soon showed -how much it was valued.</p> - -<p>In a letter of December 9th are some words of depression -under difficulties, especially the difficulty of finding a -new master for the ‘Plough School,’ as the former master -was going away.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I send you and dear Leila a few words of St. Paul’s which seem -to me so sweet and restful,—a pillow for weary heads. “Beloved of -God, called to be saints.” It is often difficult to realise that we <em>are</em> -beloved of God, because conscience says we do not deserve to be so. -I have often to fight against discouragements.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>On the 21st of January 1888 is a mention of the -‘Missionary Ladies’ Conference,’ to be held in Amritsar -late in February, with a hope that all would be ‘as friendly -and good-tempered’ as on the previous occasion, five -years earlier. Towards the close of February comes her -report of what had occurred:—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">[437]</a></span></p><div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Feb. 24, 1888.</i>—I found your letter awaiting me this evening, when -I returned from the four days’ Conference of Lady Missionaries at -Amritsar.... Conferences are rather tiring. Sittings each day from -10 to 1, and 2 to 4, and always something besides. We had about -sixty ladies, of various Denominations and Societies and Nationalities -too, English, German, American, Indian. On Thursday, after our -Conference work, we went to Church, and had such a solemn spiritual -sermon from our new Bishop.<a name="FNanchor_121" id="FNanchor_121"></a><a href="#Footnote_121" class="fnanchor">[121]</a> It was the first time that I ever had -seen him.</p> - -<p>‘In the evening there was rather a large meeting of Christians, -both white and brown, to meet the Bishop. I was introduced to -him; and we had—in the midst of the room—a quiet talk, which I -do not think that I shall ever forget. It was almost as if we could at -once meet heart to heart.... I think that he takes up his high office -more as a burden and a Cross than a dignity. I felt greatly drawn -towards him, and thank the Lord for sending us a holy and humble -man.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Feb. 28.</i>—I must tell my loved Laura a little about the Conference, -and the characteristic way in which M., the real, took me down a -peg this evening. The first day nice Mrs. Perkins, presided; on the -second another nice lady; I was particularly requested to sit in the -chair on the third and the first half of the fourth days.</p> - -<p>‘Now on the second there had been rather a hot discussion. -There had been a show of hands; but numbers were so closely -divided that we had to go by ballot. Even then there was only a -majority of <em>one</em>; and some of the members were absent, and some -imperfectly informed. In short, when Char succeeded to office, the -question was brought up again by a strong lady on the one side,—and -then a paper was read by a strong lady on the other,—and I -proposed that votes should be taken <em>again</em>, which resulted in a -majority of four, I being one of the four. A lady of the minority -called out, “It does not matter what is voted; we will all do just the -same as before,”—which was more true than polite. Then there was -another lady, who got up time after time, to make impracticable -propositions; and she got snubbed and sat down and cried.... Oh -dear, it does not do to be so thin-skinned! So you see, dear, all did -not go on quite smoothly while I sat in the chair, with the bonnet on -my head which you wore at dear Fred’s wedding!</p> - -<p>‘This evening ... Herbert asked M. about the Conference. -“I thought the first day nice, when Mrs. Perkins presided,” said she. -I laughed a little again, and, I think, complimented her on her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">[438]</a></span> -sincerity.... It was clear that M. did not admire my way of -presiding. Now, I had been voted thanks at the meeting; but dear -M.’s honesty made me feel more than I had done before that -I had <em>not</em> been very efficient. It is a good thing to know the truth.</p> - -<p>‘Is not this a funny little glimpse of life?... I doubt myself that -there is much use in Conferences, except that it is nice that some -dear workers should meet and know each other. We had many very -choice ones.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>More than a year later Miss Tucker referred again to -this Conference, when writing to Mrs. Hamilton upon the -subject of whether or not secular teaching in schools should -be undertaken by Missionary ladies:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I cannot explain to you all the difficulties that surround the -question. We had a kind of wordy battle on the matter at the -Ladies’ Conference; and it was no good! When a lady proposed -another Conference after another five years, I suggested after <em>ten</em>, but -no one seconded poor Char! I am not calm and phlegmatic enough -for these discussions, and, I am afraid, do not always see both sides -of a question. I more and more now mistrust my own judgment, and -sometimes feel rather disgusted with—myself!’</p> - -</div> - -<p>There are thousands of people who lack the power of -looking on both sides of a question; but among them all -few are humble enough to acknowledge the fact!—still -more, to distrust their own judgment.</p> - -<p>When the Conference was over, Miss Tucker remarked -to one of her companions, ‘I proposed ten years, because -I thought that then I should not be here.’ She was ‘here’ -five years later, but was within a few months of her call -Home.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>March 17, 1888.</i>—I will tell you of a curious surprise I had a few -days ago. I was in my duli in one of the streets of Batala, when I -met one of my most highly respected Native friends, the dear old -Pandit, now the Rev. K. S.... A crowded street is not the -place for a talk. The Pandit asked me to go to his village, O——, -and had evidently some particular reason for his request. As the -next day was one of my village days, I promised to go then.... If -I thought much about the cause of a visit being desired, I guessed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">[439]</a></span> -that it either concerned some Mission work, or the health of the -good Bibi. But I was utterly wide of the mark, and so I think will -my Laura and Leila be, if they take to guessing.</p> - -<p>‘The dear couple had set their hearts on presenting me with a -beautiful, richly embroidered white Cashmere shawl, which the Bibi, -I know not how long ago, had bought ... from some one in distress. -In vain I expostulated, in vain said that the lovely shawl -was fit for the Queen, and that it was not suitable for me to wear -anything so handsome; that it might be sold for the Mission. -Both the smiling husband and wife were determined to have it round -my shoulders; and I <em>had</em> to go away wearing it, though I took it off -in the duli, and took care of it, as if it had been a child. Now, the -Pandit and his wife want nothing from me; this was no case of -giving in hopes of receiving. The whole thing took me by surprise.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>April 21.</i>—We are soon to go—all in the heat—to share a 3 <span class="smcapuc">P.M.</span> -dinner at the Corfields, and meet the Bishop, Mr. Clark, and dear -Herbert,—such a galaxy of good men, that we won’t mind the heat, -especially as my plump wadded umbrella is a real protection.</p> - -<p>‘I am reading—slowly—like a child enjoying a cake, that delightful -<cite>Life of Bishop Gobat</cite>. I mean to buy a copy for myself; it would -be so good for lending or extracting from. It is such a humbling -book too. I feel like a barn-door chicken looking up at an eagle, -and chirping, “I’m a bird too!” A pretty difference between -them! Now to put on <em>your</em> sun-hat, and be off.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>April 26.</i>—You are quite right if you think your unnamed -convert’s idea of his baptism killing his mother a false one. It seems -the <em>regular trick</em> here to draw back converts from Christ by telling -them of a mother’s illness. We feel in such cases the force of our -Lord’s words, “Let the dead bury their dead!” It seems hard at -first; but experience shows us how needful is the caution.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>May 1.</i>—Neither has April gone out smiling, nor did “May come -laughing o’er the plain.” The one has gone out, the other came in,—in -such a passion. It was so dark yesterday that I was reminded of -a London fog. Minnie required a lamp to read by; a lamp, at 4¼ -<span class="smcapuc">P.M.</span> on a summer-day, shed its light on our dinner-table. This is my -day for villages when I have extra kahars. I had ordered them not -to come, should the day be as bad as yesterday; but come they did. -Evidently these hardy fellows do not mind a dust-storm. They rather -seem to enjoy it, ... and laughed merrily enough as we went along.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">[440]</a></span></p><div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>June 1, 1888.</i>—I have to thank my sweet Laura for helping to -provide me with a nice tussore dress for my visit to Murree. I -cannot wear white there as I do in Batala, where it does not look -odd, as almost every man, woman, and child appears in white. -There is nothing like it for such hot weather. But in Murree, where -there are many European ladies, I must dress more suitably, and also -be prepared for any kind of weather, heat, cold, and torrents of rain. -For my cold-weather apparel I have the very elegant grey dress, -which dear W. and M. gave me a few years ago. When the weather -is warmer my new tussore will be just the thing. I do not like writing -so much about dress; but I wished to thank you for your kindness....</p> - -<p>‘Excuse a short letter, love. I have so much writing in the way -of thanking for gifts to the Mission. Friends are so very kind. I -have asked a kind Station-lady, Mrs. G., whether she will help -me to sell at Murree beautiful things sent from England for the -Mission. I am a bad saleswoman myself. I sometimes feel inclined -to tell people <em>not</em> to buy what they do not require.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<em>June 19, 1888.</em>—I was so much interested to-day by our young -Goorkha J.’s account of his own conversion and adventures, that I -will try to write out the gist of it for you and dear Leila....</p> - -<p>‘Born of a Brahmin family in Nepaul, our Goorkha thought of -himself as a kind of god. He would motion to beings of lower -dignity to sit at a little distance from him; he was not to be polluted -by their touch. The child, however, attended a Mission School at -D——, and came a good deal under the influence of a Christian -Convert, a Pandit (learned man). At the age of about twelve the -boy resolved to leave father, mother, all, for Christ. He was too -young to be baptized without his parents’ permission, and was advised -to go a long way off. To be able to do so, the boy sold his valuable -gold earrings and bracelets, and, having thus a good stock of rupees, -he made his start, not by any direct route, but through wild, uninhabited -jungle.</p> - -<p>‘He was accompanied and helped by an older Hindu, a sad rogue, -who had his own object, it appears, in assisting the flight of the -wealthy young Brahmin. The country was rocky and infested by -wild beasts. For two nights the fugitives slept in the trees, for -protection against leopards, bears, and tigers. But this extreme -discomfort could not be endured a third night; so they slept on the -ground, after lighting fires to prevent any attack from fierce animals -roaming about. The boy awoke,—I am not sure whether it was on -that or a succeeding morning,—to find that the false Hindu had -decamped with his money, clothes, etc. Happily, the boy-convert<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">[441]</a></span> -had secreted on his own person fifteen or twenty rupees; and with -these, in the torn dirty clothes left to him still, the Brahmin went on, -and found his way to where some Hindus dwelt. These were kind, -but tried to dissuade him from changing his religion. The Goorkha -was, however, evidently a boy of strong character. He made his -way to a train, the first which he had ever entered, and reached -Calcutta at last.</p> - -<p>‘Here he wandered from place to place, to find a school. Providence -at last put the boy under the kind, almost paternal, care -of the Rev. —— B., who nursed him through illness, and fed him -himself. The Brahmin at first chose only to drink milk; evidently -he still clung to caste. However, his prejudices wore away. Mr. -B. took the lad on an itinerating tour, and afterwards placed him -at school, first at C——, afterwards at R——. At R—— our boy, -after receiving more religious instruction,—for he says that he knew -very little,—was baptized by the name of J. After a while he was -sent to Batala.... I hope that after a while he will study at a -Theological College, and become a Catechist and Missionary to his -own people. J. has written two or three times to his parents, but -his letters have been returned....</p> - -<p>‘I am writing very early this week, as I propose starting for -Murree to-morrow.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Murree</span>, <em>July 11</em>.—On Friday week I propose beginning my -homeward flight to Batala. It will be a different sort of life at the -Gurub-i-Aftab. Here there are morning callers, and afternoon -visitors, and luncheons, and tea-parties, and many a box-wala<a name="FNanchor_122" id="FNanchor_122"></a><a href="#Footnote_122" class="fnanchor">[122]</a> or -kapra-wala brings his wares, to tempt us, spreading out a variety -of pretty things.... One of my pleasures is to see the lovely fair -blue-eyed children going about with their ayahs. I am so much -accustomed to see brown babies, that some of the English ones -look to me almost like cherubs. The church-going is a great gratification; -it is so nice to have prayers and sermon in English, and -I greatly enjoy the hymns.... I enjoy my quiet morning walks -in the lovely wooded paths on the hills. This house is very conveniently -situated near the church; so one does not require much -<em>mounting</em>, which is tiring. I do not attempt long walks, but stroll -about. My dear Rowland and Helen have had much anxiety about -their little Robin.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>Aug. 9, 1888</i>.—As our Dr. Miss Sahiba, Minnie, is away, -I have now and then to try my ‘prentice hand a little, but in a very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">[442]</a></span> -humble, cautious way. I have nothing to do with making pills, -but have invested in big bottles of castor-oil and turpentine. I -have quinine, of course, and ammonia in case of bites or stings. -I don’t revel in physic, like Minnie; and dimness of sight and -want of steadiness of hand do not serve to make me more fit to -add Doctor to my name. What a blessing it is that some people -actually <em>like</em> doctoring! I remember saying to my ... kind-hearted -——, now a doctor, that operations must be trying. “I -<em>like</em> them,” was his simple, truthful reply. Well—Buckland liked -playing with snails and snakes. <i lang="la">De gustibus non disputandum!</i>’</p> - -</div> - -<p>On September the 10th, speaking of a planned trip to -Lahore, to see her nephew and niece, she continues:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I propose after parting with the dear ones to sleep at the -Mission House at Amritsar, and to-morrow go to the hospital, to -see my dear ayah, Hannah, whom we sent there, not knowing that—as -we fear—a deadly illness is on her. Dear, gentle, loving -Hannah! she has served me faithfully for about seven years; and -in all that time I cannot remember her doing <em>one</em> wrong thing, or -saying <em>one</em> wrong word. A humble, gentle Christian, good wife, -good mother,—ah! she is a sad loss to her family of seven, ... -and also to your loving Char.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Nov. 1. 1888.</i>—The first of November, darling Laura, and I am -preparing for cold weather. I have taken my chhota janwar<a name="FNanchor_123" id="FNanchor_123"></a><a href="#Footnote_123" class="fnanchor">[123]</a> (little -animal, <i lang="la">alias</i> dear Fred’s splendid foot-muff) out of its bag, to keep -my feet warm in the morning, before my bath is ready. Eiderdown -petticoat, etc., etc. O luxurious Char! It was a pleasure to me -to-day to pay F., my new ayah, her first month’s wages; there was -a pleasant, half-grateful look in her eyes.... I <em>like</em> paying wages.</p> - -<p>‘My last dear ayah is not forgotten. I have given orders for -a modest little monument of brick and mortar, to mark where -Hannah sleeps. We have no stones here. I went to the cemetery -with the mason, ... to give directions, and was struck by finding -a tiny but touching memorial already on the spot. A very little -wooden Cross, covered with paper, to facilitate the writing of an -inscription. There was the date, of course in Urdu, and “Not -dead, but sleepeth”; and “The Lord gave; the Lord hath taken -away; blessed be the Name of the Lord.” This tribute of love had -been placed over his dear Mother’s grave by J., the eldest son<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">[443]</a></span> -here, a lad of about fourteen. I mean to keep to his inscription, -when the humble monument is placed over Hannah’s dust. Dear -woman! she was of the meek and quiet spirits who are precious -to the Lord.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Nov. 23.</i>—The last mail brought me letters both from my loved -Laura and dear Leila; to both many thanks. My sunstroke was -nothing to tell you about; for though I was sickening two days, -the illness only lasted about six hours, and left, thank God, no dregs -behind. I awoke quite serene from the state which had so alarmed -my good friends, was able that very day to hold a little Bible-meeting, -and to go to my city-work next day.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>About this time Mrs. Herbert Weitbrecht, who was then -in England, wrote to Mrs. Hamilton, upon the question of -Miss Tucker being advised to go home. As will be seen -from the following little extract, her view was strongly -adverse to this step.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘For one thing, the cold, in which Mrs. —— revels, would try the -Auntie very severely. But there is more than this. You know she -used to speak very freely to me; and I have a strong impression -that she did not let you and her other friends at home know how -much she suffered from the parting, how great a wrench it was to -her. She used to say that she ... dreaded above everything the -thought of having to go through such partings again.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Probably no persuasions would have induced Miss -Tucker to return. She had steadily made up her mind -that in India she would live and die. Unless, indeed, -she should be called elsewhere! At this very time she -was deeply interested in the Andaman Islands, over which -her nephew, Major Louis Tucker, had been appointed -Chief Commissioner. On learning that a Mission among -the Convicts was sorely needed there, she is said to have -offered herself for the purpose,—if she could do good by -going. Probably she thought of it as merely a temporary -thing; as inaugurating, not as carrying on permanently, -the work. But at her age, and in her feeble health, the -very suggestion shows marvellous courage and energy.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">[444]</a></span></p> - -<p>The next letter is about a difficult case in England: -a young Indian, with whom Mrs. Hamilton was acquainted:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Dec. 1.</i>—I have not answered your letter about poor Q. in haste. -I received it the day before yesterday. Perhaps you will not like -my thoughts; but you had better know them, sweet sister....</p> - -<p>‘It is a characteristic of the Native character to have little sense -of sin. A conscience seems a thing to be created. Q. does -not seem to see how grievously he has sinned, <em>is</em> sinning. He is -clearly denying the Lord Who bought him; and that for worldly -gain. Darling Laura, have you <em>quite</em> realised the greatness of the -sin? To my view it was a mistake to ask Q. to dinner. “With -such an one, no, not so much as to eat.” Until Q. deeply repents, -he is not fit to sit at your table....</p> - -<p>‘You may cite the Parable of the Prodigal Son. That is exactly -what I would cite for <em>my</em> view of the subject. Poor Q., if -a son, is the Prodigal Son, beginning to be in want, and hiring -himself out,—feeding swine. If, when he was longing for even -husks, he had been coaxed and asked out to dinner, would he ever -have “come to himself,” would he ever have cried, “I will arise, -and go to my Father?” Was it <em>easy</em> for him to go, in a far country, -as he was? Was <em>he</em> not ready to sacrifice his pride, and go amongst -his Father’s servants as a beggar? If Q. would have the Prodigal’s -reception, he must do what the Prodigal did.</p> - -<p>‘Perhaps my Laura will remind me of St. Paul’s injunction to -the Corinthians to take back and “comfort” a gross sinner. But, -remember, that man had first had some mysterious terrible punishment,—“delivered -over to Satan for the destruction of the flesh,”—and -he was so deeply penitent, that there was danger of his being -“swallowed up with overmuch sorrow.” When Q. repents <em>like that</em>, -let us all receive him and comfort him.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Some may count this letter stern, viewed in the light of -modern lax and easy notions. But Charlotte Tucker knew -what she was about. She was living, at Batala, in the -First Century of Christianity. Things would often be -very differently viewed by us in England, if we could -see them from the standpoint of the First instead of the -Nineteenth Century.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_445" id="Page_445">[445]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="II_CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1888-1890<br /> -THE DAILY ROUND</span></h3> - -<p>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:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_446" id="Page_446">[446]</a></span> -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....’</p> - -</div> - -<p>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.’</p> - -<p>‘You are in a strait betwixt two,’ suggested Mr. Bateman.</p> - -<p>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.’</p> - -<p>Another observation was as to the ‘Quiet Day’ in -Lahore,—<em>she</em> was having a ‘Quiet Week’ given to her -at Batala instead.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447">[447]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘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.’</p> - -<p>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.’</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">[448]</a></span> -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:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘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 <em>ourselves</em>, to distinguish between Nature -and Grace.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>On January 4 she wrote:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘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 <em>am</em> -recovering. Except rather more weakness of the eyes and slight -loss of flesh, no dregs seem left.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>Jan. 24, 1889</i>.—Many thanks for the printed extract from -good Mr. Clifford’s letter about the cure for leprosy.... I dare -say that it <em>is</em> 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 <em>free</em> 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.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">[449]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p>‘<i>Feb. 16.</i>—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....</p> - -<p>‘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.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p>‘<i>May 2.</i>—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 <em>forbid</em> 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 <em>obliged</em> to fast.” It really means, -“I am <em>too poor</em> 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 <em>food for the fast</em>, 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?’</p> - -</div> - -<p>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.’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">[450]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>May 30.</i>—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!’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Simla</span>, <i>June 13</i>.—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.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>July 18.</i>—Your “running about,” love, has been on a milder scale -than mine. On Friday last, knowing that I was to rise at about -3 <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span> (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.</p> - -<p>‘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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451">[451]</a></span> -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.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>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 -<em>they</em> 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:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>July 31</i>.—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....</p> - -<p>‘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 <em>are</em>—though not so often -as we could wish—to be found amongst Orientals.</p> - -<p>‘<i>Aug. 1.</i>—Yesterday’s post brought me a loving letter from my -Laura.... A man<a name="FNanchor_124" id="FNanchor_124"></a><a href="#Footnote_124" class="fnanchor">[124]</a> 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.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS MINNIE DIXIE.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Aug. 17, 1889.</i></p> - -<p>‘J. D., exemplary young man, has put all three harmoniums to -rights. He says that the largest has 223 tongues, and that 25 were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_452" id="Page_452">[452]</a></span> -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.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE REV. F. H. BARING.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Nov. 14, 1889.</i></p> - -<p>‘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 <em>at least</em> 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.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>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:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p class="center">A GENTLEMAN.</p> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘What is it makes a Gentleman? ’Tis not his high estate,</div> -<div class="verse">His liveried footmen, or the grooms that on his orders wait,—</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_453" id="Page_453">[453]</a></span> -<div class="verse">The horses and the carriages that stand before his gate,</div> -<div class="verse">The tenants who bow low to him, and think him very great.</div> -<div class="verse indent1"><i>Chorus</i>—</div> -<div class="verse indent2">These do not make the Gentleman, whate’er his station be!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘What is it makes a Gentleman? Not colour of his skin,—</div> -<div class="verse">The Negro, black as ebony, may yet be fair within;</div> -<div class="verse">The weak, the lowly, and the poor, a glorious race may win,—</div> -<div class="verse">There’s nothing makes a man so low as cowardice and sin!</div> -<div class="verse indent1"><i>Chorus</i>—</div> -<div class="verse indent2">He cannot be a Gentleman, whate’er his station be!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘What is it makes a Gentleman? His dress is not the sign,—</div> -<div class="verse">Though on each finger of each hand a jewelled ring may shine;</div> -<div class="verse">His necktie may be elegant—his boots be superfine—</div> -<div class="verse">Howe’er you dress a monkey, Sir, he is no friend of mine.</div> -<div class="verse indent1"><i>Chorus</i>—</div> -<div class="verse indent2">He cannot be a Gentleman, whate’er his station be!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘The real Gentleman is he whose aims are pure and high;</div> -<div class="verse">Who scorns a base dishonest act, and tramples on a lie;</div> -<div class="verse">Who treats the woman and the child with gentle courtesy,</div> -<div class="verse">Who holds the Christian’s faith and hope, so does not fear to die!</div> -<div class="verse indent1"><i>Chorus</i>—</div> -<div class="verse indent2">He is the real Gentleman, whate’er his station be!’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_454" id="Page_454">[454]</a></span> -& Sons, early in 1890, gives interesting information on the -subject:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>Jan. 18, 1890</i>.</p> - -<p>‘I am much pleased to hear that <cite>Beyond the Black Waters</cite> is out -at last, and return you many thanks for the copies for presentation, -kindly sent for me.</p> - -<p>‘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 <em>one</em> book costing, if I remember rightly, -about threepence, <em>forty</em> are sold costing a pie, less than a farthing.<a name="FNanchor_125" id="FNanchor_125"></a><a href="#Footnote_125" class="fnanchor">[125]</a> -I resolved to write one-pie stories; did so; and thousands and tens -of thousands have been sold.</p> - -<p>‘A lady here has told me that <cite>The Young Pilgrim</cite> 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.</p> - -<p>‘As I went along in my duli, a kind of square box carried by men, -to-day, to visit villages, I thought that the <cite>Giant-Killer</cite>—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.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455">[455]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>Books for English readers still went on appearing from -time to time. In 1885 she published <cite>Pictures of St. Paul</cite>; -and in 1886 <cite>Pictures of St. Peter</cite> followed. In 1887 came -<cite>The Fairy in a Web</cite>, and <cite>Driven into Exile</cite>. The year -1888 also saw two—<cite>The Hartley Brothers</cite>, and <cite>Harold’s -Bride</cite>, both being continuations of the two Picture volumes, -named above. In 1889 <cite>Beyond the Black Waters</cite> was -brought out; in 1890 <cite>The Blacksmith of Boniface Lane</cite>; -in 1891 <cite>The Iron Chain and the Golden</cite>; and in 1892 <cite>The -Forlorn Hope</cite>. 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.</p> - -<p>On the 17th of February Miss Maria Hoernle left -Batala, with the purpose of soon proceeding to England; -and Miss Tucker wrote next day:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘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....<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456">[456]</a></span> -The Bishop was pleased,—though tired by his village tour, -seeing the seven little congregations of the Batala district.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>March 7.</i>—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 <em>one</em> visit from me in a month, some not even that! -My employment is trying to pull up weeds that cumber, and to <em>sow</em> -good seed; but I have no time to <em>water</em>,—or very little, so far as -Zenanas are concerned.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>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 <cite>Beyond the Black -Waters</cite> as my chrysanthemum, a winter plant, lingering on -even till December. But my <cite>Blacksmith of Boniface Lane</cite> -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.’</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>June 4, 1890.</i></p> - -<p>‘We had a very uncommon visitor, who came at about 4 <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span> 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!’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_457" id="Page_457">[457]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Murree</span>, <i>June 27, 1890</i>.</p> - -<p>‘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 <em>poverty</em> 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.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>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 <em>rap the table</em>!’ 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.</p> - -<p>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!’</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Aug. 22, 1890.</i>—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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458">[458]</a></span> -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 <i lang="fr">gêne</i>. 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.</p> - -<p>‘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—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“Amazed was the laird, when the lady said—‘Na!’”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>‘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.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Aug. 28.</i>—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.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Sept. 12.</i>—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....</p> - -<p>‘As I was walking in the city early one morning,<a name="FNanchor_126" id="FNanchor_126"></a><a href="#Footnote_126" class="fnanchor">[126]</a> 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,—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459">[459]</a></span></p> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Master.</span> “I beg your pardon. Do you pronounce opíate or -ópiate?”</p> - -<p>‘I. “Ópiate.”</p> - -<p>‘M. “Who were the Jacobins?”</p> - -<p>‘I. “Bad men, who cut off other people’s heads.”</p> - -<p>‘M. “Were they Roman Catholics or Protestants?”</p> - -<p>‘I. “Neither. They had no religion.”</p> - -<p>‘M. “Were Jacobins connected with Jacobites?”</p> - -<p>‘I. “No; those were followers of King James.”</p> - -<p>‘M. “One more—what is ‘Black eye,’—‘give a black eye?’ I -cannot find it in the dictionary.”</p> - -<p>‘To this funny question also I gave a brief answer, and then my -volunteer pupil left me,—I hope satisfied with his lesson.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Oct. 14, 1890.</i>—The shadow of consumption which <em>may</em> 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....</p> - -<p>‘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 <em>teach the Bible</em>, ... <em>he</em> has apostatised; -<em>he</em> 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 -<em>fear</em> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_460" id="Page_460">[460]</a></span> -all over the city. But the Lord reigns, and all enemies shall—<em>must</em>—be -put under His Feet. Amongst those who <em>will</em> rejoice will be -those who are saddened now, like your loving Char.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Oct. 25.</i>—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.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Later.</i>—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 <em>somewhere upstairs</em>.” 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!’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Oct. 31.</i>—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.</p> - -<p>‘What a contrast between Christianity and Muhammadanism, -Hinduism, <em>any</em> 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.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> - -<img src="images/illus4.jpg" width="600" height="440" alt="" /> - -<p class="caption">‘SUNSET,’ A. L. O. E.’S THREE-ROOMED HOUSE</p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_461" id="Page_461">[461]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="II_CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1890-1891<br /> -IN OLD AGE</span></h3> - -<p>Letters at this late period of Miss Tucker’s life become -so abundant, from numerous quarters, that the main -difficulty is in selection, the main cause of regret is that -so few can be used. The history of 1891 and 1892 may -be told chiefly by Miss Tucker’s details of what went on. -Miss Dixie remained her constant companion in the little -Mission bungalow all these years,—except when absent -for her summer holiday, or on furlough. Others came -and went, remaining a longer or a shorter time in Batala. -Dr. Weitbrecht had settled down as C.M.S. Missionary in -the place; and Mr. Bateman, stationed at Narowal, came -and went on itinerating expeditions.</p> - -<p>Charlotte Tucker still lived her life of rigid simplicity; -though perhaps certain indulgences, immaterial when she -was younger and in more vigorous health, had now -become a positive necessity. Long Indian toil, as well as -sharp illnesses, had told upon her; and at seventy she had -every appearance of being ninety. Yet, through weakness, -weariness, and languor, she struggled on, and kept up her -steady round of work.</p> - -<p>The little ‘Sunset’ house, in which she lived, consisted -mainly of the following: bath-room, size 8 feet by 8; -dressing-room, size 13 feet by 8; the one large principal -room, size 24 feet by 13, divided by a screen into bedroom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_462" id="Page_462">[462]</a></span> -and sitting-room; and the verandahs. Miss Tucker’s -chief room has been described to me by one who spent -months at Batala, as, at this date,—‘Rather bare and -shabby, and used to have rather an untidy look.... As -you went in from the verandah in front, the fireplace was -on your left, and a sofa, with a screen behind it, screening -off the bed, on your right. In front of you was the little -table, where she used to write. I cannot remember all of -the furniture; there was not very much,—I think some -shelves on each side of the fireplace.’</p> - -<p>This does not sound too luxurious. No doubt Miss -Tucker might, without expense, have made her rooms much -prettier, but for her passion for giving away. She seldom -kept for herself more than was imperatively needed. -While on this subject, it may be worth remarking, as -regards the food of the Missionary ladies in Batala, that the -cost of it has been found to amount, on an average, to about -eight annas a day,—an anna being worth rather less than -a penny. The said estimate applies to an ordinary time, -including a certain amount of entertaining of visitors. Probably -the cost would be much the same in other parts of -the Panjab, unless it were slightly more in large Stations.</p> - -<p>A few scattered sentences from the Journal may -precede the letters of 1891:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>April 30, 1889.</i>—Villages.... Sikh bibi very nice. I said, “I -am very weak. If you heard that I died, what would you say?” -Reply: “Gone to Jesus! Gone to Heaven!” After a while I -asked, “Were I to hear of your death, what should I say?” A little -delay; then a bibi observed on the <i lang="hi">kirpa</i>, mercy, of Jesus, and -thought that He might take them too.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Aug. 31.</i>—“Faint, yet pursuing,” must be my motto. The two -boys from ——, who came to Anarkalli, as if resolved to embrace -Christianity, but, being without root, left us again, seem to have done -much harm. The Muhammadans more bitter than before. Twice -this week I—an aged servant of Christ—have been turned away -from the Zenanas, to which I went in gentleness and kindness. To-day<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_463" id="Page_463">[463]</a></span> -I was rejected at a fourth.... It is a strain upon the threefold -cord of Faith, Hope, and Love, this deliberate choosing of darkness -instead of light, Barabbas instead of Christ. We need the prayers -of God’s people, and to remember the promise, “In due season ye -shall reap if ye faint not.”’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Sept. 4.</i>— ... Two places very nice. B. is determined to be a -Christian, and teach his wife. Wants Urdu Gospel....</p> - -<p>‘<i>Sept. 5.</i>— ... Felt ill; half-blind; yet generally well-heard....</p> - -<p>‘<i>Sept. 6.</i>— ... Ophthalmia, but managed to go to Q. five places....</p> - -<p>‘<i>Dec. 12, 1889.</i>—D.G. Hindus cross. As I mounted dark stair, -heard “Buha band.”<a name="FNanchor_127" id="FNanchor_127"></a><a href="#Footnote_127" class="fnanchor">[127]</a> However, I ventured up, smiling, and said,—“When -you come to the Dispensary, the door is not shut.” -There were four women; the two elder cross, not the younger. -At first no seat was offered me; then some one said, “Buddhi,”<a name="FNanchor_128" id="FNanchor_128"></a><a href="#Footnote_128" class="fnanchor">[128]</a> -on which a small mat was brought, and the old woman meekly -sat down. I tried to make my visit pleasant, showed my Golden -Tree, and sang. It was a kind of breaking of ice. I took -care not to stay very long. When I had risen, the two younger -salaamed. I turned, smiling, to one cross old lady, and coaxed her -to return my salaam. After a little while she did so; but I wanted to -conquer the toughest also. The younger women listened, much -amused, to my polite expostulations on her rudeness. At last the old -hand went up to the brow, and I departed, contented. The ice was -broken. One can go again.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Dec. 25, Christmas, 1889.</i>—Nice. D., B., and children, made -catechumens.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Dec. 27.</i>—The best day, I think, that I have ever had in Zenanas.... -N. B., A very nice visit. Two fine young men, and at least -seven women of various ages, appeared pleased, interested, and -without any bigotry. So much inclined towards Christianity did one -man in particular seem, that I spoke of the advantage of a united -family accepting the Truth, and expressed a hope that all would come -out. “Sat!”<a name="FNanchor_129" id="FNanchor_129"></a><a href="#Footnote_129" class="fnanchor">[129]</a> echoed the Hindu heartily, throwing up one of his -hands, as though to give force to the word.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>June 29, 1890.</i>—I have, three times in as many weeks, been able -freely to show a Bible picture in Islami schools, and speak of Christ. -To-day, as I walked in the streets, twice tradesmen in their little -shops wished to see my picture. I stopped, and others gathered -round, whilst I explained.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_464" id="Page_464">[464]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Sept. 2, 1890....</i> K., she sad. Seems to regret death of her -poor young S., whom she kept such a prisoner, and of whom I -thought, “If any one in that quarter be a secret believer, it is she!” -I could seldom get into the house. The sweet S. was quite a -prisoner. I have even stood before the window, and sung in the -open lane, hoping that S. would hear the sound of my voice, like -imprisoned Richard. I hear that S. gave birth to a girl, “a very -beautiful tiny child,” who only lived for a month, and the young -mother soon followed. I have strong hopes that both are with the -Lord Jesus.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Feb. 9, 1891.</i>— ... I have suffered greatly from chilliness this cold -weather. Perhaps in no winter during my whole life more. Old -age. Ague.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>March 25, 1891.</i>—Song. W. B. Buckle; but my best hearer was -R. L., very interesting schoolboy. He met me at my first Zenana, and -followed me to all the others. He was so nice,—even singing bhajans—that -I thought at first that he must have learned at the Plough. -With interest, amid interruptions from women, listened to story of the -three Jews in the furnace, and told it afterwards in another Zenana. -He was a help to me, explaining the Buckle, etc., very nicely. When -the subject was Christ’s Ascension, the boy said that He had gone up -to God Almighty. I intend to write out the song for the dear -fellow.... His heart seemed so impressionable, and his face -brightened at the thought of the Crown to be given to “those who -believe in Jesus.” “I want to be a Christian,” he said in English. -Lord, bless him. Give him the Crown.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>April 13, 1891....</i> R. E. took me into her arms; felt so slim -encircled by them. I noticed a quantity of jewels on her arms. -She popped her bare feet on my knee,—I was seated on the -ground,—to show me the jewels on them. Her amount of clothing -was by no means proportionate. Presently down went her forehead -on my lap. I silently hoped that there was not much oil on -her hair.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>May 14.</i>—Hindus very nice. My A. B., cheerful-looking C. D., -another whom I do not know so well, E. F. These three all hope -to meet me in Heaven. When I said to C. D., “But how can we -go? We are sinners!”—her simple reply was, “Jesus Christ, Guide.” -I have hopes of these three.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_465" id="Page_465">[465]</a></span></p><div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>May 15.</i>—F. G., nice intelligent man. I was surprised at a <em>little</em> -boy, H. I., being able to read. Gave him hymn-book. Was much -followed about by boys....’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>May 25, 1891....</i> Felt the weight of years much. Work a -struggle! Lord, help me!...’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>June 4....</i> L. very nice. When I said that she was patient, poor -dying hand pointed upwards. Peace on face. Many listened....’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>June 22....</i> I am to start to-day for Dalhousie. Feel old and -rather worn out. If I live to 1892 must not stay down<a name="FNanchor_130" id="FNanchor_130"></a><a href="#Footnote_130" class="fnanchor">[130]</a> so long....’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Aug 14, 1891....</i> I sat outside with Bibis, in front of ——‘s -house. The door half open, behind it pretty smiling young Bibi, -who again and again silently made signs to me to come in. Did so, -and sat beside her. She did not utter one word, but by her looks -tried to show me that she received the Word, and believed. She -only said “Salaam,” when I left. I read to her of Christ being the -Good Shepherd, His own words.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Dec. 24.</i>—J. ill; sweet. Told me that, sitting up in bed, she saw -beings come in, clothed in white shining raiment. Felt frightened. -Asked why they did not speak. Afterwards fell asleep, and dreamed -of being taken to a beautiful place. She is, we think, a true believer, -confesses herself sinful, and looks to Christ for salvation. Asked -her if she would like baptism. “Yes.” “Would your husband allow -it?” “No.”’</p> - -</div> - -<p>These are specimens of the longer entries. The majority -are exceedingly brief, consisting for the most part of names, -initials, and single words. Letters to Mrs. Hamilton in -the early part of 1891 are unusually few: not that the -usual number were not written, but few have been kept. -In the spring of that year there was some discussion as to -the name of ‘The Plough School,’—her own favourite -name for the School, which meant much to her. One -cannot but regret that any stir should have been made -about the matter, when she had been the ‘mother’ of the -school. The criticism having been put forward, however -needlessly, she wrote to Mr. Baring:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘By-the-by, the name “Plough” is objected to, as sounding like a -public-house.... How could we choose a name that would signify<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_466" id="Page_466">[466]</a></span> -entire dependence on God?... The Plough appears to be flourishing. -Boys come to it even from what we call the large Government -School. Numbers have arisen to about 113. To-day I had no fewer -than seven rather superior boys from the Plough. They come for -religious conversation and Bible pictures.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>On the 17th of June 1891 she wrote to Mrs. Gardiner -about the recent death of that remarkable man, Bishop -French,—no longer holding the position of a Bishop, but -working as a simple Missionary.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">My dear Mrs. Gardiner</span>,—Though June in the plains is not the -most favourable month for letter-writing, especially to a Septuagenarian, -I will not let your kind note remain longer unanswered.</p> - -<p>‘Yes, indeed, our late loved Bishop French was a saint, one whose -memory is sweet, whose example is lofty. You will have seen the -article in the <cite>Panjab Mission News</cite>. I think that it was written by -Rowland Bateman, who, so like himself, feels not having rushed off in -all the heat, to have been at the side of his venerated Friend, left alone -in a land of strangers. But the dear Saint was not alone! What a -glorious ending to his beautiful course! He reminds one, when -dying in the grapple with Muhammadanism in the very home of its -birth, of the Swiss hero, who broke the phalanx of the enemy by -clasping the spears of the foremost in his arms, and so receiving them -into his breast.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">“‘Make way for liberty,’ he cried;</div> -<div class="verse">‘Make way for liberty!’—and died.”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>‘Of course there will be a Memoir of Bishop French,—but where -is the Boswell competent to write it? Who could give all the -delicate touches, needed for a perfect portrait of one with so many -idiosyncrasies?</p> - -<p>‘How well I remember the dear Bishop coming all the way from -Lahore,—when there was no railway,—to visit me, when I was -supposed to be dying.<a name="FNanchor_131" id="FNanchor_131"></a><a href="#Footnote_131" class="fnanchor">[131]</a> He sat by my bedside, gently talking. I do -not remember that I said anything to him. I was looking up at his -face, and thinking what a lovely medallion might be made of it in -wax! It was an earthly thought; but when you recall the delicate -features, pure complexion, and saintly look, of that countenance, you -will hardly wonder at the sick woman’s reflection.</p> - -<p>‘My letters, or rather letter, from England came in when I was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_467" id="Page_467">[467]</a></span> -engaged in writing, and you will not wonder at the blot on the last -page.... I feel now disinclined to write at all. My beloved sister, -Mrs. Hamilton, has been seriously ill; but, thank God, to-day’s -account of her is good.—Yours affectionately,</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">C. M. Tucker</span>.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS MINNIE DIXIE.</p> - -<p class="right">‘(<i>From the Hills</i>) <i>July 4, 1891</i>.</p> - -<p>‘I am not timid about snakes; but H. has seen four lately, and it -is only common-sense to look under one’s bed, as the heat compels -open windows and doors. I have only fish-insects and tarantulas at -present, but am promised plenty of scorpions, centipedes, and leeches, -in the rains. You know I have not your talent for squashing reptiles; -and if I called out for help in the unpleasant business, I doubt -whether any one would hear me. I rather think that this will be my -last visit to the Hills, and that Amritsar will be my Sanatarium in -future.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The two next letters to Miss Dixie are about the -outbreak of smallpox in Batala. She was ‘quite ready to -nurse a smallpox patient, should the malady spread.’ -And again,—’ Why should I delay my return? As a -Missionary, I am liable any day to meet children with -smallpox full out. I hope to be with you in about a -fortnight.’</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS LANGLEY.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>July 29, 1891</i>.</p> - -<p>‘It is very kind of you to ask what kind of things would be most -useful here. For <em>sale</em>, pretty little articles of dress for English -children, from one day old to five years, are most readily disposed of. -We are afraid of woollen articles, as they are so difficult to keep. -White ants are a real puzzle at Batala.... Happily cotton or silk -they attack much less. Gentlemen’s neckties, of a fashionable shape, -would be likely to sell well. Station-people in India think <em>at least</em> as -much about fashion as Londoners do. A few pretty cosies and -toilet or tea-table covers would be nice, and some elegant dolls. -These would suit for sales. For presents in schools—cheap dolls, -gay and rather gaudy; bags, with cotton and tape; kurtas, common -gay print, that will wash. I dare say that Miss Cockle could supply -a pattern. The kurtas need to be made of Oriental shape, or they -would not be worn by the school-children.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_468" id="Page_468">[468]</a></span></p> - -<p>An attack of ophthalmia in her eyes, which must have -caused much suffering, is made light of in her letters; and -in the same passing manner she alludes to a fall, whereby -her face was turned black and blue. The main point in -connection with this accident seemed to her to be the -kindness and sympathy shown by Batala people, when she -went to visit them, and the fact that nobody smiled at her -discoloured and swollen features.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS LEILA HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Sept. 12, 1891.</i></p> - -<p>‘You will see a half-sheet; it belonged to a whole one, but the -first half, alas! I have had to tear up; for it gave such a bright -account of one, who, <em>only to-day</em>, I have found out has been -deceiving us for many months!... Let us drop the painful subject.</p> - -<p>‘I had a visit early this morning from a <em>real</em> servant of God, dear -old K. S.! One thinks of him rather as the learned and pious -Pandit, than as the ordained Pastor; he leads such a wandering life. -His faithful heart was heavy to-day, from the inconsistencies of -professed Native Christians. He thought them better out of the Fold -than in it;—so do I, for many are not <em>sheep</em> at all!</p> - -<p>‘I have not yet heard whether dear Mr. Bateman has recovered. -I have written to him to-day. My letter will not cheer him, but he -must know facts. Blindness is no benefit. We want <em>light</em> and <em>air</em>. -Do you know, dear, that we felt our church dreadfully close,—yes, -for years and years. The cause was obvious to us ladies. The doors -and <em>lower</em> windows were often opened; the <em>upper</em> windows <em>never</em>! -It was troublesome to get at such high ones; so year after year the -bad air, which came from breath, ascended, and had no vent. Last -Sunday, after my earnest protest, the windows were opened, and we -breathed pure air!</p> - -<p>‘We are very quiet now; but in two or three weeks will begin the -rush <em>from</em> the Hills; the season for work beginning, and the season -for visiting too.... It is possible that in the beginning of October -I may go for a week or so to Futteyghur with sweet Daisy Key, to -teach the Christian peasants in that out-of-the-way spot. I think -that the quietness, with one choice companion, would suit me better -than the bustle of many arrivals at Batala. About the 1st of -November I am engaged to go for a short visit to dear Louis and -Lettie at Rawal Pindi.... The journey is not a very fatiguing one,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_469" id="Page_469">[469]</a></span> -as I can go all the way by train. Rawal Pindi is a city at the foot of -the Himalayas; there is no mounting up.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Sept. 16, 1891.</i>—My own sweet Sister, I do confess with regret that -I wrote too hastily about ——, as dear M. C. does not think him -bad, and hopes that he may be useful in time. I was vexed and -impatient at my Laura being so worried, year after year.... But I -was wrong, dear, I frankly own it! I wonder when I shall be given -grace to be really loving, gentle, and patient!</p> - -<p>‘Poor dear Daisy and I have been sadly tried lately by the wickedness -of those in our own compound. We both feel that it will be a -relief to get away for a while to Futteyghur, which we shall probably -do in the beginning of October.... But oh, let me not be so -ungrateful to the Lord, or so unjust to dear excellent Native Christian -friends, as to say in my haste, “All men are liars!” Poor Daisy -thinks Batala the most wicked place that she has ever been in; and -so do I? But precious jewels come <em>to</em> Batala, though very few <em>out</em> of -it....</p> - -<p>‘But I must not write only of trials, love. If you could have -dropped in upon us yesterday evening, you would have thought us a -very happy party. See Char, in one part of the room, playing at -chess with our good Pastor, Nobin Chanda;<a name="FNanchor_132" id="FNanchor_132"></a><a href="#Footnote_132" class="fnanchor">[132]</a> ... dear Babu Singha, -the excellent and wise, a special comfort to me, looking on in his -quiet benevolent way. At the other side see sweet Daisy, animated -and bright, playing at our famous Batala game with a choice set of -Natives; ... and last, not least, dear Rosie Singha, our honorary -and very steady worker in the Dispensary. I feel giving these kinds -of parties a real duty; and they give, at little cost, so much innocent -enjoyment. It is well for the Missionaries too to have pauses, in a -struggle with so much that is repulsive and saddening.... I think -that Rowland is not now actually ill, as he writes about being in the -midst of a sermon. I hope that he will be able to pay Batala a -flying visit before long.... He has so many Missionary troubles, -and we cannot help adding to them. But—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“Soon and for ever, we’ll see as we’re seen,</div> -<div class="verse">And learn the deep meaning of things that have been!”’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>‘<i>Sept. 27, 1891.</i>—I will steal a bit from the morning to write a -little to you. We are living rather in a bustle at present; the tide of -Missionaries running down from the Hills, rather sweeping over -Batala. Dear Rowland is here.... Miss Boyd is here. She is to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_470" id="Page_470">[470]</a></span> -be married, please God, next week.... Her visit has been a real -help to me, at a time of much Missionary difficulty.... Her Betrothed -has been to Muscat, to gather information about the last days of dear -Bishop French.... Miss —— returned here on Saturday; Miss -Dixie and the Corfields start for Batala to-day. One lady comes -here from Amritsar to-day; we are to start her from hence at 4 <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span> -to-morrow, Tuesday.... I shall be very glad to be quietly off, ... -out of a kind of whirlpool. We will have eight at dinner to-day; -quite as much as our table will hold.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Futteyghur</span>, <i>Oct. 11</i>.—I watch with much interest the Christian -father, R. M., when at our long Services his little four-years old -Z. is beside him. It is lovely to see the peaceful confiding loving clinging -trust of the little child, as she cuddles to her strong father, and -his gentle tenderness to the wee girl.... It makes me think of our -Heavenly Father and us, His weak little ones. But an elder girl -of R. M. was bitten by a snake; and then the tender father -showed “the hardness of love.” He resolutely cut out the poisoned -part with a penknife. The poor child screamed terribly, but still the -parent cut on. I dare say that his own heart felt gashed. The child -was saved. O when our Heavenly Father thus wounds to save, -may we have grace to lie still!’</p> - -</div> - -<p>One would much like to know the rest of this story, -and how the poor father managed to keep his little girl -from bleeding to death. His courage must indeed have -been great.</p> - -<p>Later in the same letter, when again on the never-failing -topic of troubles and disappointments in the work, -Miss Tucker says,—‘O what need we Missionaries have of -wisdom! We are so liable to make mistakes.’</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO —— ——</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Oct. 24, 1891.</i></p> - -<p>‘I was in Sikh villages this morning. The Sikhs are more -friendly than the Muhammadans. I have often told them that if -their respectable Guru Nanak were here on Earth now, he would probably -become a Christian. I said that I had heard that there was -something about our Lord in the Granth. The Sikh with whom I -was conversing at once gave me the “Slok,” and translated its difficult -antique Panjabi. This is the Slok in English; “That Cutter of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_471" id="Page_471">[471]</a></span> -demons’ heads, the world’s revered Jesus!” The Sikh said that -“Isa” (Jesus) was thought by them to be “Ishur,—God Almighty.” -I replied that we too called Jesus, God!’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p>‘<i>Oct. 30.</i>—Many many thanks, mine own sweet Sister, for yours of -the 8th, and all your loving thought for Char.’s comfort. You would -keep the bird in a golden cage, lined with soft fur! But Char. is a -bit of a wild bird, and likes to fly about freely. The fur will be -delicious on cold mornings and evenings; but to wear it all day, even -in December, would feel exhaustingly warm. One needs to adapt -oneself perpetually to the changes of temperature in December and -January; this needs a little Indian experience and common-sense. -The want of these two things is one cause of Indian break-downs. -Inexperienced Missionaries think it safe to do in India what they -have done in old England! If you consider, love, that I have kept -my health, with some few interruptions, for almost sixteen years in -India, you may allow that I am a fair manager of it. I am thought -rather a wonder.</p> - -<p>‘As for having “a really nice capable maid to wait upon” me;—O -dear!—<em>dear</em>—<em class="smcapuc">DEAR</em>!! I might fill a whole line with such exclamations, -to express my almost <em>horror</em> at such a proposal! Europeans, -except good working Missionaries, who can <em>help</em>, are dreadful -anxieties and troubles. An Englishwoman in service is always a -<em>possible</em> invalid, and a <em>probable</em> grumbler. I never in my life could -stand a person running after me and watching me. I have an ayah -to attend to my room,—and could have plenty of darzies to mend my -clothes, but I prefer doing a little stitching myself. I am not always -tumbling down like a ninepin,—but I would <em>prefer</em> tumbling once or -twice a month to having any one always watching me. Dear Minnie -insists on handing me to my room at night. You must remember -that I am the adopted Aunt of a Doctor Miss Sahiba.</p> - -<p>‘This is rather a frisky note, darling. When I am a <em>real</em> invalid, -I am said to be a good one; but I am strongly averse to becoming -one when I am in fair health.... I know how dear Laura and -Leila would constantly be putting soft fetters of love round me; but -they would find me an obstreperous bird. I should break the fetters -by sudden astonishing efforts,—as I fled from the Doctor lady who -came from Amritsar. I knew that the Weitbrechts wanted her to -see me. After breakfast she went with Dr. W. into his study, to look<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_472" id="Page_472">[472]</a></span> -at something. I saw my opportunity, hurried down the long stair, -and into my duli;—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“They’re gone! she’s gone,—over, etc.”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>I knew that I was safe, as Batala has twelve entrances; and no one -could tell which I had taken. It was rare fun, and seemed to do me -more good than physic could have done. So take no anxious thought -about me, love.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The being ‘handed to her room at night’ was found to -be a necessity in her old age. After spending the evening -in Sonnenschein with the younger ladies,—generally either -reading aloud, or playing games,—she had to go out into -the front verandah, and to pass along it till she reached -the door of her own little ‘Sunset’ dwelling. If alone, -she was apt to stumble, or to run against something, and -the regular plan was adopted of either Miss Dixie or one -other of her nieces always accompanying the older lady, on -this small nightly pilgrimage.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS LAURA VERONICA TUCKER.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Nov. 18, 1891.</i></p> - -<p>‘Oh, dearest Laura Veronica, what a warm capital web you have -spread for her whom you call Fairy Frisket. Certainly I look very -unlike a <em>fairy</em>; and a very comfy rug is far more suitable for me than -gossamer wings or glittering wand! A bibi expressed surprise to-day -that a weak old woman could sing; but I told her that I sing -every day in my life. If I stopped for a week, perhaps my throat -might find out my age! I must not give it a chance of so doing. The -same with my feet; the dear kind E——s were always offering me -a drive, and I often took one with L.; but—oh, my friends, Misses -Feet, you had to do your work too. No laziness tolerated; or you -might presume to fancy yourselves antiquated. Now I am back in -harness again, have been to the city to-day, and intend to visit a -village-school to-morrow, unless Daisy Key go instead. She is far -better at teaching than I am. But I am afraid that I have not yet -thanked my sweet niece for the capital rug. I do so now with a kind -kiss....</p> - -<p>‘Yesterday, in the railway carriage, I offered a wee book by -Spurgeon to a tall big man, connected with the railway department. -He asked me immediately if I were related to ——, and gave his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_473" id="Page_473">[473]</a></span> -opinion that —— was a real good man. My frank companion -expressed, however, a general dislike to Missionaries. “Why do you -not like us?” I asked mildly. He had evidently not been fortunate -in some that he had known,—their names were not familiar to me. -He disliked their preferring working on Natives instead of their own -countrymen, and evidently thought them too comfortable! But what -<em>can</em> I do, when my dear relatives send such charming gifts to your -attached old Auntie Char?’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MR. AND MRS. ST. GEORGE TUCKER.</p> - -<p class="right"><i>‘Dec. 12, 1891.</i></p> - -<p>‘Your very handsome and very kind—only <em>too</em> handsome—gift -reached me safely this morning; just the right time for the arrival, as -the air in the morning is very keen, and then fur is a real comfort. -Much has your fine jacket been admired,—so “beautiful,” so “grand.” -But it does not look unsuitable even for Missionary use. Very many -affectionate thanks for this token of your affection. It quite strikes -as well as gratifies me, to see how little difference <em>sixteen</em> years of -absence seems to make as regards the loving-kindness of my dear -relatives. They do not seem to forget the aged Missionary, or weary -of showing her tokens of love.</p> - -<p>‘We are to have an interesting Ordination Service next Sunday. -F. M. and I. U., Converts from Muhammadanism, tried and true, -are to be appointed Deacons. We expect the Bishop on Thursday. -He will, we hope, lay the first stone of our Mission School Building, -so called,<a name="FNanchor_133" id="FNanchor_133"></a><a href="#Footnote_133" class="fnanchor">[133]</a> on Saturday.... I have begged that the building may be -very plain,—dear Mr. Baring gave the money for it.... It is a -great matter for some religious instruction to be given to more than -130 boys from Heathen and Muhammadan homes.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right"><i>‘Dec. 21.</i></p> - -<p>‘We have been having a busy time.... On Sunday there was -the interesting Ordination. To-day the dear Bishop kindly laid the -first stone of Mr. Baring’s generous gift to Batala, a building for the -City School. A number of Muhammadans and Hindus were present; -but the service was most distinctly Christian. The <cite>Gloria -Patri</cite> was repeated again and again; the precious Name of Christ -was not only on the stone, but in the prayers and portion of the Bible -read.... At the gathering I saw many interesting persons, both<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_474" id="Page_474">[474]</a></span> -English and Native.... The Bishop is such a lovable man; gentle, -bright, affectionate; showing not a particle of pride. We do not -call him “My lord,” but “Bishop.”’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘(<i>Undated.</i>)—Beloved Sister, this is the last Sunday of 1891; may -1892 be rich in blessings to you and your loved ones of two generations. -“He leadeth me,—oh, blessed thought!”</p> - -<p>‘It is good for me to be a while in this quiet place.<a name="FNanchor_134" id="FNanchor_134"></a><a href="#Footnote_134" class="fnanchor">[134]</a> Batala at -Christmas time is too bustling. Merry festivities are more delightful -to the young than the old. I expected dear Herbert and Mr. -Channing to dine with us; and to my surprise we sat down twelve. -It was all right; we should use hospitality without grudging, -especially at Christmas time; but you know that Char. has a sorrow -at her heart. I retired from the merry games, to prepare for the -next day’s long journey. O my Laura, ask for me a gentle sympathising -spirit,—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“To meet the glad with cheerful smiles,</div> -<div class="verse">And to wipe the weeping eyes.”’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -</div> - -<p>Was the ‘sorrow’ here spoken of, the delicate health of -‘her Laura?’ If the sister in India was ageing fast, the -sister in England was failing fast. Parted as they had -been during sixteen long years, the loving sympathy -between them was as fresh and ardent as ever. A dread -had long oppressed Mrs. Hamilton that ‘her Char.’ would -soon be called away. But though the summons to the -elder sister was indeed not far distant, that to the younger -sister was to arrive first.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_475" id="Page_475">[475]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="II_CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1892<br /> -LIGHT AT EVENTIDE</span></h3> - -<p>The Evening of Miss Tucker’s life was passing fast away. -Sixteen years of her long Indian campaign were over. -Only two years remained. But the end of her Evening -was to be Day, not Night. For nearly forty years she had -looked forward with joy to the great change; for more -than twenty she had longed with an impassioned craving -for a sight, Face to face, of that dear Lord and Master -whom she loved. And though she did not know it, the -time was drawing very near. Could she have known it, the -passing troubles of these months would have seemed easy -to bear, in the light of coming glory. Barely two more -years of toil and weariness,—and then—the Home-going!</p> - -<p>One more heavy sorrow had to come first; one more -sharp blow upon the golden staff of her Will. Many a -blow had fallen since she wrote her little book, <cite>The Giant-Killer</cite>; -many dear ones had been called away by death. -And now the summons was going forth for the dearest of -all; the sister-friend, who from very infancy had been one -with herself. No shadow had ever fallen on their love one -for another. Before the close of 1892 the shadow of death -was to fall across it, leaving Charlotte Tucker more lonely -in heart than she had ever been before. But the shadow -was to fall for a very little while. Only a few months of -separation; and then the sisters would be together again.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_476" id="Page_476">[476]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘“Stay thy hand!”’ Fides exclaimed, in the story by A. L. O. E., -as blow after blow fell on the golden staff. ‘“It can bear no more!”’</p> - -<p>‘“Yet a little patience,” cried Experience, and struck it again. -Then the Will was restored to Fides,—straight, pure, beautiful,—oh, -how unlike that staff which had been so deadly in the grasp of Pride!</p> - -<p>‘As Fides stood gazing on the fair gift before him, once more, and -for the last time, the shining robe and star-wreath of Conscience -flashed on his sight. Never before had her smile been so glad, so -beaming with the radiance of Heaven.</p> - -<p>‘“The work is done,—the fight is over!” she exclaimed. “Thou -art summoned to the Presence of thy King! A messenger is even -now waiting to conduct thee to the Home which thou so long hast -desired! Go, bearing with thee the offering of a conquered Will, the -acknowledgment that not even that should be thine own, and the -remembrance of foes bravely met and overcome, through the might -of Him Who armed thee for the fight.... Go where all is gladness -and rejoicing and peace,—where war and danger shall be known no -more!”‘<a name="FNanchor_135" id="FNanchor_135"></a><a href="#Footnote_135" class="fnanchor">[135]</a></p> - -</div> - -<p>The work was nearly done; the fight was nearly over. -But Charlotte Tucker could not yet see the starry form, -could not yet hear the gentle accents, which soon would -bid her to ‘rise and come away.’ Before many days of -1892 had passed, she was back again in Batala; deep in -her usual round of work and interests.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>Jan. 10</i>.—Here am I at home again. I did so enjoy and -benefit by my visit to Narowal. It was not leaving work but leaving -cares. I worked every day, but the work was more encouraging, and -the feeling of repose so refreshing. If I live to see another Christmas, -I think that I shall run away to some quiet spot, like Narowal, -where the railway whistle is never heard....</p> - -<p>‘When I was at peaceful Narowal, I happened to read in a printed -paper a kind of fable, which has been such a comfort to myself, that -I have put the idea into verse, and my Laura shall have a copy.... -As we Missionaries have a great many more <em>little</em> annoyances than -great afflictions, I am inclined—for myself—to change the last line -but one into</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“Change petty worries to plumage on wings.”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>‘You know there are on a bird’s pinion, not only the long feathers,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_477" id="Page_477">[477]</a></span> -but the little tiny ones; but how that fluffy downy sort add to beauty -and comfort!...</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p class="center">“WEIGHTS AND WINGS.</p> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“Sweet is a parable which I have read;</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Birds at the first could not soar into air,</div> -<div class="verse">Bound to the earth; till their Maker, ’tis said,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Gave to each two little burdens to bear.</div> -<div class="verse">Proud ones refused the least burden to lift;</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Others, submissive, obediently cried,—</div> -<div class="verse">‘All that He sends we will take as a gift;</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Feeble are we, yet will strength be supplied.’</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">“Raising her burdens, each bird with surprise</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Finds to her weak frame most closely it clings;</div> -<div class="verse">Soft, light and beautiful, radiant with dyes,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Lo! every <em>weight</em> has expanded to <em>wings</em>!</div> -<div class="verse">Woe to the creatures that clung to the ground!</div> -<div class="verse indent1">They could not flutter bright wings in the sky;</div> -<div class="verse">Ne’er could they rise above Earth’s narrow bound,—</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Whilst their companions were soaring on high.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">“Take we up burdens of sorrow or care,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Looking to Him Who the trial has given,</div> -<div class="verse">Grace will give courage and patience to bear,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Make burdens wings to uplift us to Heaven.</div> -<div class="verse">When disappointment its heavy cross brings,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Lord, in each trial Thy love let us see;</div> -<div class="verse">Change e’en our heaviest woes into wings,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Onward and upward to bear us to Thee!”’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Feb. 12, 1892.</i></p> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Mine own precious Sister</span>,—Again have you been called to the -trial of sickness and suffering.... These trials may seem strange -and unaccountable to the children of earth, but how differently they -are regarded by the children of light! They make us keep closer to -the Father’s side,—cling more to His supporting Hand,—the weights -<em>do</em> turn into wings! O how often have I during late days thought -of that little parable! And when we reach the Blessed Shore, and -“know as we are known,” we shall fully realise <em>why</em> it is good that we -should be afflicted....</p> - -<p>‘I was reading the Commandments aloud in a village yesterday, -when a bright young Hindu Pandit—rather well read—objected to -the Second. The poor fellow was probably conscious that he himself -was constantly breaking the Second Commandment. It interested<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_478" id="Page_478">[478]</a></span> -me to hear a middle-aged sensible-looking Sikh take the other side, -quietly, and with perfect good-temper. Each of the men afterwards -accepted a Gospel, one in Gurmukhi, one in Urdu.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Feb. 18.</i>—I am thankful for improved accounts of you.... We -have had rather an eventful week for Batala.... On Monday the -dear Bishop came in. Herbert asked me to take luncheon with him -on Tuesday. It was very nice; just the Bishop, Herbert, and four -nice Native Christians. I was the only lady.... At half-past three -we had a very interesting Confirmation Service in the Church, to -which the Bishop drove me. He gave a very nice address, which -Herbert translated beautifully into Panjabi, for the benefit of the -simple peasants. On the following morning the Bishop gave in -English such a practical <em>heart-searching</em> address to us workers! He -looked so earnestly at us ladies, and was evidently anxious to do us -real good. His was no idle display of eloquence; rather did his -address resemble the admonition of a kind wise father. We did not -see him after we left the chapel....</p> - -<p>‘We have had a singularly mild and bright cold weather.... How -curious it would be to an English farmer to see fields green with -corn in February,—the Spring crop,—and, at the same time, other -bits of ground being ploughed up for the sowing of another crop! -There seems something always growing. There are lovely roses and -fruit blossoms, but the weather is now comparatively dark and dull.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>April 8, 1892.</i>—The Muhammadans in Batala seem to be in a -much better humour than they may be expected to be during the -Ramazan—their grand fast. I have visited a good many Muhammadan -Zenanas this week; and in not one, so far as I remember, have -I heard a word about the fast, which was apt to make them so bigoted -and self-righteous. No one objects when I repeat in Urdu the -precious text, “By grace ye are saved, through faith,” etc. Indeed, -I believe that a good many Batala folk think that after all our -religion is better than their own. I repeat “God so loved ——” -more often, I think, than any other text; and I have not lately -heard the shocked exclamation, “Tauba! tauba!”<a name="FNanchor_136" id="FNanchor_136"></a><a href="#Footnote_136" class="fnanchor">[136]</a> Perhaps it will -be different to-morrow, when I propose visiting two villages, which -were so bigoted and disagreeable, that I at one time struck both -out of my visiting-list. Minnie induced me to give them—at least -one of them—another trial, as she had given medical aid to the wife -of the Maulvi (Muhammadan religious teacher of the place), and -had found him very polite. No doubt the Dispensary opens doors.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_479" id="Page_479">[479]</a></span> -I found the Maulvi bigoted but civil, and ... willing to receive a -New Testament.... I enjoy the quiet walk, and then ride in my -duli, in the cool fresh morning, when I visit villages. The harvest -has commenced. Here I see fields of ripening corn, there the -scattered sheaves. But the harvest is not so plentiful as it was last -year. We had too dry a cold weather; not nearly so chilly as the -former one. I am taking out illuminated texts just now. I have -beautiful ones, both in Persian, Urdu, and Gurmukhi. It is interesting -to see peasants, somewhat more intelligent than their fellows, spelling -out the precious verses from Scripture.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>April 12.</i>—<span class="smcap">Precious darling Laura</span>,—The Mail has to-day -brought me in your letter of March 24th; the first <em>clear</em> intimation of -the nature of your illness. I will not say that my eyes are dry. I own -that the selfish thought arose,—“Would that <em>I</em> had had it instead!” -And yet I prefer knowing the plain truth. I have comfort in the -thought, “I am old; whichever of us is taken <em>first</em>, the meeting—O -what a joyful meeting!—may not be far off!” ...</p> - -<p>‘I am thankful that you do not suffer greatly. I fondly hope that -this trial may be spared. I do not feel inclined to add more. I need -not,—you know so much of your own loving Char.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>April 13, 1892.</i></p> - -<p>‘Though I wrote to your beloved Mother yesterday, and shall only -be just in time to catch the post, my heart impels me to send a letter -to you, my dear afflicted God-daughter. I know that you try bravely -to bear up under your sore trial, so as not to add to that of your -precious invalid.... I am glad that I have been told the worst. It -has been good for my soul! Only the day before the mail came in, -I had been foolishly, sinfully, brooding over trifles, till I even showed -outward irritation, instead of reflecting that small annoyances as well -as great troubles are God’s loving discipline for us. Alas! that I should -have shown temper! The next day the Lord sent a <em>quiet, holy</em> sorrow, -and it did me good,—tears were wholesome,—I felt that I had been -petty and irritable, and deserved a different kind of trial. I have been -more under discipline since I attained the age of seventy than I have -perhaps ever been before in India. But should <em>trifles</em> disturb the -serenity of a Servant of a Crucified Saviour?... Thinking of your -real grief, I hope to be more patient with petty annoyances....</p> - -<p>‘Write freely to me, dear Leila. To help you in your trouble will -not do me harm but good.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_480" id="Page_480">[480]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>April 17, 1892.</i>—Beloved Laura, “The Lord is Risen indeed!” -This is the Easter greeting, and this is Easter morn. I shall soon -start for church; but first I would remind my darling sister and myself -of words like the clarion of a silver trumpet, followed by the -sound of an angel’s harp:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“The Lord hath triumphed gloriously;</div> -<div class="verse">The Lord shall reign victoriously!</div> -<div class="verse indent2">Seals assuring,</div> -<div class="verse indent2">Guards securing,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Watch His earthly prison!</div> -<div class="verse indent2">Seals are shattered,</div> -<div class="verse indent2">Guards are scattered,—</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Christ hath Risen!”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“No longer then let mourners weep,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Or call departed Christians ‘dead!’</div> -<div class="verse">For death is hallowed into sleep.</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Each grave becomes a bed.”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“It is <em>not</em> exile—peace on high;</div> -<div class="verse indent1">It is not sorrow,—rest from strife;</div> -<div class="verse">To fall asleep is <em>not</em> to die;</div> -<div class="verse indent1">To be with Christ is better life!”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>‘How beautiful are these lines,—how true!...</p> - -<p>‘Oh, what Heavenly wisdom Missionaries need!... It seems to me -that dear people at home have a very imperfect idea of Missionaries, -and, in their prayers, probably ask for comfort in trial for God’s -servants, rather than for the wisdom which is from Above,—the -gentle influence of the Holy Spirit. Ask this for me, my Laura. I -do get impatient sometimes, and I make mistakes.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>May 2, 1892.</i>—Books are a great enjoyment when I am alone, or -sitting, as I am at present, by the bedside of one who has been ill, -though now, thank God, recovering. We have had such a sick house, -your Char keeping well, when it seemed as if nobody else would; -delicate Miss —— coming next on the roll of health. She has been -able to take the housekeeping, and to help in the nursing, so we are -getting on, and hope that all will come right soon. Miss Dixie took -four children to Clarkabad, and returned April 23rd, quite ill.... -Miss Wright is nursing her. Then ... Daisy and Miss Copes came -almost suddenly in from Futteyghur; Daisy’s fever had alarmed Miss -Copes.... Miss Copes had her turn next, and has suffered severely.... -Char has felt some comfort from being of some use here.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_481" id="Page_481">[481]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">FROM THE REV. R. CLARK.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<span class="smcap">Cheshire</span>, <i>May 3, 1892</i>.</p> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">My dear Mrs. Hamilton</span>,— ... I saw dear Miss Tucker shortly -before I left Amritsar. She is, as you know, not strong; 2 Cor. iii. -13, R.V., always occurs to me when I see her. God is daily using her -to be a blessing to us all.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">C. M. T. TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>May 8</i> (<i>Seventy-first Birthday</i>).</p> - -<p>‘I am sure that my precious Laura has been thinking of me to-day, -as I have been thinking of her....</p> - -<p>‘I think that it was some time before 5 <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span> that Mr. Corfield and -his boys came to greet me with a hymn. I was in my dressing-gown, -but hastily popped on my bonnet and went out to shake hands with -everybody. As it is well known that I do not wish gifts, and prefer -simple trifles that are useful, my presents were judiciously chosen, -and are, to my mind, curiously symbolical.</p> - -<p>‘The Corfields gave me a box of soap,—fragrant, and typical -of cleansing. Miss Wright, a pretty little box of vaseline. This -pleased me particularly. I have said, and I think written, that every -Missionary should have a box of ointment, symbol of peace-keeping -and peace-making! Now <em>I</em> have one myself. Minnie gave <em>pens</em>. -May I make a good use of them!... Dear Babu Singha has given -me a hand-pankah (fan), which I waved gratefully in church this -morning. This is an emblem of refreshment in oppressive heat....</p> - -<p>‘Dear Mr. Baring’s admirable building for the Mission Plough is -to be opened to-morrow by the Deputy Commissioner; and I -suppose that Muhammadan and Hindu big or little wigs will be -present. I am glad that my birthday falls on Sunday; so that the -tamasha is postponed till the next day. There is something solemn -about the Anniversary, when one has travelled so far on the Homeward -road. You will feel this, darling, on the 20th.<a name="FNanchor_137" id="FNanchor_137"></a><a href="#Footnote_137" class="fnanchor">[137]</a> ... Dear -Herbert’s sermon to-day was on “Seekest thou great things for -thyself? Seek them not!” We should never have known Baruch’s -failing but for that warning word. I have been very much tamed -down, dearest.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO THE REV. F. H. BARING.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>May 9, 1892.</i></p> - -<p>‘I must tell you of the grand opening of your beautiful School<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_482" id="Page_482">[482]</a></span> -building to-day, while the scene is fresh in my mind, and before the -coming in of the home mail.... The thermometer has been nearly -92° in my room this morning.</p> - -<p>‘The fine building was well filled; the part nearest the table with -Europeans and Baring boys; the Plough boys, very numerous, had -the larger space; and in front, on chairs, in stiff dignity, sat the city -magnates.... We sang a hymn; Mr. Wright ... read a Psalm; -and, we Christians standing, Herbert led the prayer. Then my -Nephew<a name="FNanchor_138" id="FNanchor_138"></a><a href="#Footnote_138" class="fnanchor">[138]</a> made a short speech, followed by a nice one from dear -Babu Singha, and a kind of brief, satisfactory report from Nobin -Chanda.</p> - -<p>‘And then up rose the Deputy Commissioner, and, to my great -surprise and great amusement, gave, in rough Urdu, such a <em>whipping</em> -to Batala and her magnates, as I never heard in a speech in my life. -First,—Batala, poor Batala, was not like any other city; it was so -quarrelsome! Clearly, the Deputy Commissioner (like Mr. ——, -who told me nearly sixteen years ago that Batala was the most -troublesome and litigious city in the district) has no fancy for the -place. Then the whip came down on the shoulders of the poor rais;<a name="FNanchor_139" id="FNanchor_139"></a><a href="#Footnote_139" class="fnanchor">[139]</a> -and it was mercilessly plied. The magnates had to bear the -indignation of the Englishman for doing their best—or worst—to -prevent our getting ground for the school or the proposed Mission -Hospital. For whose benefit was the latter? asked the irate Deputy -Commissioner. Not for our own, but that of the women and children -of Batala! In short, the Englishman whipped the poor magnates, -till he made them bleed—in their purses. He told them that money -was wanted for school-benches, etc., and let them know that their -aid would be desirable. Paper was on the table.... Some put -down rupees; some wrote down promises. About 701 were thus -collected.... The whole thing was so funny that I could not help -being greatly amused. I wonder what the scolded Muhammadans -said, when they went back to their Zenanas....</p> - -<p>‘Herbert said in his speech that your fine building will also be -used as Library, Reading-room, and Lecture-room. I think there -will be a Sunday-school also.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p>‘<i>May 15, 1892.</i>—My precious Laura, you wish me to ask for you -more faith and love. I ask <em>more</em>, even for floods of joy. Why not, -darling? “Ask, and ye shall receive!” ... My trial, as regards<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_483" id="Page_483">[483]</a></span> -this matter, is different from yours. I have to learn patience to -restrain yearning to depart and be with Christ. I have twice, as it -were, in dangerous illness,—what men call “dangerous,”—caught a -glimpse of the River; and it seems glittering with sunbeams! I -<em>long</em> to cross it; but I feel that it would be wrong to pray to go. -The Master only knows when we are ready to go Home; but how -my spirits rise, if I see any likelihood of the time being near! I do -not feel this at present, for I have such a good constitution. Three -out of four of my Mission ladies here have been seriously ill; with -the fourth I can see that it is a weary struggle to get on; and I, an -aged woman, am not ill at all! I do not suppose that any of the four -really wish to quit the field—or the school. The one who does <em>may</em> -be kept long at her post. None can tell! I fall back on “The -Lord knows best.”’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>May 20.</i>—This is my own beloved Laura’s Birthday,—a day -which Char is not likely to forget. Sweet peace and joy be yours, -darling. You have added to the happiness of many. You have, as -it were, washed the disciples’ feet, and you are sitting at the Lord’s -Feet. That is what dear, saintly Fanny described as “the position -of a Christian.” Is it not a wondrous thought that you and I may be -welcomed by such as Fanny? She was not beautiful on earth; but -how fair she will be, raised “in His likeness”! The Saviour will be -“admired in His saints,”—a very remarkable expression, and a sweet -subject for thought. There is so much in us now <em>not</em> to be admired; -but when He comes to make up His jewels, <em>all</em> will be bright and -fair....</p> - -<p>‘This has been a particularly hot season.... You would think 91° -warm in a bedroom at night. Miss —— and Daisy sleep out on -the roof: but I think myself too old for the chance of a midnight -scramble in my night-clothes, carrying my bedding down an outside -stair, should a dust-storm or thunder-storm come on. I keep on the -prudent side, which is <em>in</em>side.... A Sunday-school has been opened -in Mr. Baring’s beautiful new School-house. Attendance is of course -voluntary; and Mr. and Miss Wright, who have started the Sunday-school, -and who only expected to find about twenty boys, were -pleased to find about <em>sixty</em> pupils; not only the “Plough” boys, but -their teachers. Was not this grand?... I hope that dear Francis’ -new building will be one of the best means of bringing hard-hearted -Batala to the knowledge of the Saviour. The laddies are often not -hard at all, but pleased and eager to hear about the Christian Faith. -The next generation may be very different from the present one.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_484" id="Page_484">[484]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>May 29.</i>—Do not regret having told me about your state of -health. I like to know the truth, and at my advanced age may well -face it. Whether my darling Laura or myself be taken <em>first</em>, the -remaining one will have comfort. It is but a “little while”—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“Till He come! O let the words</div> -<div class="verse">Linger on the trembling chords,</div> -<div class="verse">Let the little space between</div> -<div class="verse">In their golden light be seen!”’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -</div> - -<p>Early in June Miss Tucker took the long journey to -Simla, accompanied part of the way by Dr. Weitbrecht, -and afterwards by Dr. Lankester. Through the thoughtful -kindness of various friends, the journey was made as -little fatiguing to her as possible. On her arrival she was -so worn out as to sleep thirteen hours, with only one -break, but was afterwards none the worse. Writing of the -kind Cousins with whom she had gone to stay, she says: -‘The boys are charming, so clever, bright, and loving. -They make of me as much as if I were a pet Grandmother. -I bought a little toy for them; and they were -so much delighted with it, that I must have had between -the three boys nearly a dozen kisses for it. I wonder that -they are so fond of kissing a wrinkled old face.’</p> - -<p>On June 17 she wrote from Simla:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I am treated here with great kindness and consideration. I am -not pressed to exert myself; but of course I take my part when -friends come to dinner. To-day we are to have four Calcutta -Missionary ladies for dinner and games. To-morrow an old friend -of mine, Carry H., and her husband, and Lord Radstock. One -of the most lovable guests that we have had is our own Bishop of -Lahore. I am to go to his lecture on Isaiah this evening....</p> - -<p>‘There is an excellent piano here, and dear Mackworth Young -plays exquisitely.... How you would have enjoyed Beethoven’s -Hallelujah Chorus, which he has played to me twice from memory! -“Worlds unborn shall sing His glory—the exalted Son of God!” -Do not those words recall the dear old Ancient Concerts? Yesterday -I was tempted, when alone, to open the piano myself; -and what do you think was one of the things which I sang -and played? My Laura’s “The Lord He is my Strength and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_485" id="Page_485">[485]</a></span> -Stay!” <em>That</em> too reminds of old times. O what will Heaven’s -music be!’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The following letter, written from Simla to Miss Raikes, -was on the subject of a translation into Bengali of her -little book, <cite>The Story of Dr. Duff</cite>:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>June 20, 1892.</i>—If I have neglected thanking you for a copy of -your translation, pray forgive an aged and half worn-out Missionary;—I -am seventy-one, and in weak health. In our Panjab I have no -intercourse with Bengalis, except such as know English more or less; -and I am not acquainted with a word of the Bengali language, Urdu -and Panjabi being what is spoken, so that I could not myself judge -of your translation. At Simla, however, where I am on a visit, I hear -that there are Bengalis, and I might find some to whom I could -present the book, which has been your labour of love. I cannot but -hope that you have not published 2000 copies at your own expense. -I never do; but a Society prints, and takes the risk. If the Bengalis -be like the Panjabis, it will be difficult to sell so many copies at -8 annas each. If I remember rightly, my little <cite>Life of Duff</cite> only -costs 2 annas; and <em>our</em> people think that a good deal! But Bengal -may be more liberal.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The next letter—like one or two on the same topic, -already quoted—is of peculiar interest, because, some -three years earlier, Miss Tucker had been a good deal -exercised in spirit about the fact of Bishop French’s -successor being a decided High Churchman, and had -more than once written in strong and melancholy terms -to her sister on the subject. The tone in which she now -wrote, in 1892, is remarkable, as being by no means in -accord with her former prejudices. But Charlotte Tucker, -as I have had occasion to remark before, was not one of -those small-natured people, who always stick fast to what -they have said, because they have said it. She was ever -ready for fresh light upon any matter. It appears to me -that we see here in her some measure of that widening -of spiritual outlook, which ought to become visible with -advancing years and with a closer knowledge of the Spirit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_486" id="Page_486">[486]</a></span> -of Christ. Probably she was not herself definitely conscious -of any difference.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Simla</span>, <i>July 3, 1892</i>.—My beloved Laura, I have just come from -church, from partaking of Holy Communion. Our Bishop preached. -It was a sermon whose gist I do not think that I shall ever forget; -for it presented a most familiar text in—to me—quite a new and very -striking light: “Blessed are the poor in spirit.” The Bishop said -that many persons—I was amongst them—“took the Blessing as -meant for the <em>humble</em>”; but he, referring to the parallel passage in St. -Luke’s Gospel, showed that this is a limitation of the meaning. The -poor in spirit are those who count themselves as actually <em>possessors</em> -of nothing; the goods which are called theirs are merely <em>lent</em> of God, -to be taken up or laid down simply at His pleasure. In the face of -a large congregation, in gay, fashionable, money-seeking Simla, our -Bishop with fervent energy preached a sermon on <em>Unworldliness</em>! -May God write it in the hearts of the hearers!</p> - -<p>‘I thank God for our Bishop. His influence is of untold value; -he is so gentle, courteous, considerate, that he does not, I should -think, usually give offence. I had the enjoyment yesterday of, I -think, more than an hour’s <i lang="fr">tête-à-tête</i> with him. It interested me -much, for Bishop Matthews never puts himself on a pedestal. If -his Episcopal position resembles one, he comes down at once, with -humility and frankness, and seems like a brother. The Bishop -never appears to mind in the least my not calling him “lord,” either -in correspondence or in speaking. One has the impression that -he does not care a straw about it. I am struck by the pains which -he is taking about the case of a young Native Christian.... The -Bishop is investigating the matter with father-like interest.... It -is a cause of deep thankfulness that European or Native can appeal -to a good, wise Bishop.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Miss Tucker does not, here or elsewhere, state why she -objected to calling a Bishop “my lord.”</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>July 3, 1892.</i></p> - -<p>‘We had a Missionary Meeting last week, at which the most -striking speech was that of Mr. Lefroy<a name="FNanchor_140" id="FNanchor_140"></a><a href="#Footnote_140" class="fnanchor">[140]</a> of Delhi. I could not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_487" id="Page_487">[487]</a></span> -help thinking this, though the Bishop, Mr. Young, and my dear -nephew, Dr. Weitbrecht, spoke before him. In simple, manly -fashion, as one not thinking of human praise, Mr. Lefroy described -what seemed to me like a grand single combat between himself -and a Muhammadan Hafiz,—one who knows the whole Koran by -heart—of great influence. The Hafiz, a great opposer of Christianity, -asked Mr. Lefroy to have a <em>long</em> discussion with him, not saying -that he must go, or was tired, etc. Our champion accepted the -challenge at once. The Hafiz appointed a mosque as the place of -meeting.</p> - -<p>‘Mr. Lefroy went at the appointed hour, and, to his surprise, -found about 500 Muhammadans waiting for him. They were very -attentive listeners; but great, very great, must have been the strain -upon the noble and gifted Missionary. Till midnight, for about -five hours and a half, in hot Delhi, in the fiery month of June, Mr. -Lefroy held up the Christian Banner against the Hafiz and others. -At midnight, after one Muhammadan had been arguing against our -Faith, the Hafiz said to him: “If you can bring forward no better -arguments, <em>I will take the Missionary’s hand, and go out with him</em>!” -He did not do so then; he had not sufficient courage to face the -storm of opposition; and again he failed on another occasion, to -Mr. Lefroy’s great disappointment. But after months, that Hafiz -is a Baptized Christian now. God gave His champion the victory -at last!’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS HOERNLE.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>July 18, 1892.</i></p> - -<p>‘I am still, as you see, at Simla, but expect to start on my long -journey downhill on the 21st. We have had a great quantity of -rain. I hear that Batala is flooded, so the heat will be much -lessened....</p> - -<p>‘Yesterday was Sunday, and the dear Bishop and a few others -dined with us, and we had nice hymn-singing afterwards. How -you would have liked to have occupied my seat at the dinner-table! -I was next the Bishop, and Dr. Weitbrecht sat just opposite....</p> - -<p>‘I need not tell you that the mountains are very beautiful; -especially, to my mind, when a white cloud, which has been, as -it were, quite blotting them out, is lifted, and one beholds the -glorious peaks and wooded valleys, lovely in the bright sunshine. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_488" id="Page_488">[488]</a></span> -reminds one of the American Poet’s striking lines on a yet loftier -theme,—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“Soon shall the whole</div> -<div class="verse">Like a parchéd scroll</div> -<div class="verse">Before my amazéd eyes uproll,</div> -<div class="verse">And without a screen,</div> -<div class="verse">At a burst be seen,</div> -<div class="verse">The Presence in which I have ever been!”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>‘Ah, dear Maria, well may we exclaim—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“O to be ready, ready, for that Day—</div> -<div class="verse">Who would not cast Earth’s dearest joys away!”’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MRS. HAMILTON.</p> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">Batala</span>, <i>Aug. 8, 1892</i>.—Daisy and I are living in a remarkably -damp world, as beautifully green as green can be. The rain is -pouring furiously. My kahars had to wade through water to take -me to the city. I had a good fire in my Gurub-i-Aftab to-day, -not for warmth, but to keep away mustiness.... Damp is by no -means as trying to me as cold, and it is a comfort to be in no -danger of sand-storms. No dust now; only “water, water, everywhere.” -Happily I cannot add, “not a drop to drink”!... We -have quite a bevy of our Mission ladies up at the Hills. I am very -glad that they are there. Hard-working Minnie seems to be enjoying -herself so thoroughly. Did I tell you of a Hindu presenting, -for her projected Hospital, a piece of ground, worth 700 rupees? -Herbert had a meeting of principal Batala folk; and such interest -was shown in Minnie’s work, that—including a hundred rupees -from the kind Deputy Commissioner—551 rupees have been given -or promised for the proposed Hospital.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS EDITH TUCKER.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Aug. 18, 1892.</i></p> - -<p>‘I will tell you between ourselves, for I would not trouble sweet -Aunt Hamilton about anything, that, in my old age, since I have -attained seventy, I have had more experience of difficulties and -worries than perhaps at any other period of my long Indian career. -I need not describe the worries; they are things that rub one, chafe -one, make life’s burden heavier. And why are they permitted, -darling? I think that they keep us in a more humble, <em>clinging</em> -position. We cannot ask sympathy for such little things; we are -pitied for some troubles; others we must keep to ourselves,—the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_489" id="Page_489">[489]</a></span> -latter perhaps try us most. But the dear Saviour knows! He -experienced daily trials of patience as well as great afflictions. It -is good to remember this. Christ, in addition to cruel persecution -from open enemies, had to bear the dulness of perception, the weakness -of faith, the ambition, the tendency to quarrel, of His daily -companions. If great troubles are like the burdens which expand -into wings, it seems to me as if petty worries may turn into the -soft, downy little feathers which line the wings. They make our -wings softer for those whom we have to shelter beneath them. For -as the Lord spreads His great Wing over us, He means us to spread -our small ones over others.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO MISS L. V. TUCKER.</p> - -<p class="right">‘<i>Sept. 21, 1892.</i></p> - -<p>‘You call me “Fairy Frisket,” dear. If I be like a Fairy, it is -not pretty little Frisket, but rather the old woman of Nursery -stories, with wrinkled face and high cap. Yet here I have frisked -to Futteyghur. We have a little Christian congregation of peasant -converts here, who assemble twice a day in a large, neat room, -which serves for a church. It is well matted, and has a red curtain -down the middle, to divide the men from the women. All sit on -the ground; only Auntie, on account of her age, is allowed a low -seat. It is quite easy to me to sit on the ground; but to get up -again,—“there’s the rub.”</p> - -<p>‘“What o’clock is Service?” I asked of our excellent Native -Pastor. “Half-past five in the morning; afternoon half-past five. -Before sunrise, and before sunset.” I thought half-past five <span class="smcapuc">A.M.</span> -rather early; but of course we accommodate our convenience to -that of the peasants, who have to go to their work. Says I to -Daisy, “You may trust me to awaken you at five!” This is no -hard matter to Auntie!... When I sallied forth I could see Orion -in the sky.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>A few more scattered extracts from Miss Tucker’s -Journal may end this chapter.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Feb. 21, 1892. Sunday.</i>—The best I have had since Narowal. -Prayer seemed answered.</p> - -<p>‘<i>Feb. 22.</i>—Villages. Little B. H. Gave one Urdu Gospel to a -young man. Some listened, but I encountered some rudeness. -Almost pushed away. Ladder. Widow of Nain.... Went to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_490" id="Page_490">[490]</a></span> -house of Maulvi F.... He courteous. Some children rude. Sent -him one of Gwynn’s Gospels.</p> - -<p>‘<i>May 3.</i>—Blessed rain. Three invalids recovering. Thank God.</p> - -<p>‘<i>May 4.</i>—Plough. Subject Passover. K. very nice. Gave Gurmukhi -Primer. Saw P. D.... Remembers Maria. Wants to learn -Urdu. Had good conversation with S.... Saw pretty bibi and -nice brother. He read first part of Acts ii. I lent him <cite>Daybreak</cite>.</p> - -<p>‘<i>May 29.</i>—Too poorly to go to early church.</p> - -<p>‘<i>June 1.</i>—Too poorly to go out. Wrote to poor, dear R. C.</p> - -<p>‘<i>June 3.</i>—Plough. Short work; very weak. Too weak and -poorly for work.</p> - -<p>‘<i>June 10.</i>—Left Batala. Dr. Lankester my escort.</p> - -<p>‘<i>June 11.</i>—Reached Simla, much wearied. Slept about thirteen -hours.</p> - -<p>‘<i>Aug. 3.</i>—A. B. Man sent me off at once; but almost immediately -recalled me; and I had a very good talk with him.</p> - -<p>‘C.’s Bibi. Courteous and pleasant.</p> - -<p>‘D. E. Good visit.</p> - -<p>‘F. Middling.</p> - -<p>‘G. H. She nice; but grumbling zemindar came in.</p> - -<p>‘Old J. indifferent as usual.</p> - -<p>‘H. did not see her, but sweet J. K.’</p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_491" id="Page_491">[491]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="II_CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1892-1893<br /> -THE LAST GREAT SORROW</span></h3> - -<p>With the coming of autumn, accounts of Mrs. Hamilton’s -state grew steadily worse. In the middle of October Miss -Tucker went for a few days to Rawal Pindi; and the -last letter which she received there, before starting on -her return journey, prepared her for the coming blow. -Arriving at Batala station in the early morning, her first -question was—</p> - -<p>‘Is there a telegram?’</p> - -<p>There was a telegram, and it was given to her immediately. -Before seeing a word, Miss Tucker knew -what the missive had to tell,—knew that her dearly -loved sister had passed away. She opened it, and burst -into a flood of tears. Reaching home, Miss Dixie led -her to her own room, and there left her for a little while -alone.</p> - -<p>Probably no sorrow in all her lifetime, except the -death of her Father and the death of Letitia, had touched -her so closely as this sorrow; and even they were not -the same, because through them she always had still her -Laura. Now the sense of loneliness pressed upon her -heavily. Whatever she had thought, whatever she had -wished, whatever had aroused her interest or appealed -to her sympathies, the immediate impulse had ever been -to tell it to Mrs. Hamilton,—perhaps even more during<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_492" id="Page_492">[492]</a></span> -these long years in a far-off land, than in her English -life. But indeed from very childhood, from the time -when Laura was a little rosy, sweet-tempered, merry maid -of four, and Charlotte was a wild-spirited, impulsive, and -ambitious child of eight, the tie between them had been -of a very unusual nature. They did not love merely as -sisters, but as the nearest and dearest of intimate personal -friends. What made the one happy made the other happy. -What grieved the one grieved the other.</p> - -<p>And now for a while the tie was seemingly broken; -intercourse was at an end. True, Charlotte Tucker had -been for sixteen long years and more separated by land -and ocean from her sister. But the communion of mind -with mind had been incessant throughout. True, the -break was for a very little while. But this she could not -possibly know. Old as she was, old in some respects -beyond her years, she yet had a strong constitution, and -a marvellous amount even now of wiry vigour. Weak -she might be, in a sense; nevertheless she could get -through a round of work daily which few women of -seventy would dream of attempting. It was well within -the bounds of possibility that her life might be extended -through another ten or twelve years, or even longer.</p> - -<p>‘She felt her sister’s death most dreadfully,’ one of her -nieces has said. Yet she did not lie crushed beneath the -weight of her grief. Work had still to be done; and -others had to be thought of and comforted.</p> - -<p>On the very day that she received the telegram she -wrote to Mrs. Hamilton’s daughter a letter full of sympathy -for her niece’s loss, scarcely mentioning her own.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I would take you as it were into my arms, ... and weep with -you, so that I might possibly even remind you of the sympathy -of the precious Mother, whom you have <em>not</em> lost, but parted with -for a little while. O, when you meet in Eternity, what a little -while it will appear!... You have the blessing of holy memories;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_493" id="Page_493">[493]</a></span> -you know that you were a great comfort to the precious Invalid; and -you have the joy of hope, the hope of re-union. We are only pilgrims -on the same road; and one arrives before the other. Both have the -same Home.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“And who can tell the rapture, when the circle is complete,</div> -<div class="verse">And all the Family of God around the Father meet?”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>’ ... It will be a solace to you to look after your beloved Mother’s -poor. I am sure that many had cause to bless her. All her works -of love done so quietly and unostentatiously; but every one marked -down in God’s “book of remembrance.” What a wonderful joy -the opening of that book will be! Little kindnesses, acts of love, -words of holy counsel, all marked down, not one forgotten.... -Try to <em>realise</em> your Mother’s happiness! Has she not looked on -the Lord Jesus, heard His Voice, received His welcome?’</p> - -</div> - -<p>And again on the 27th of October:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘Try, dear one, to comfort others; and then you will find comfort -yourself. This is a world of suffering; and the best Memorial to -your precious Mother will be something that will be a blessing to -others. To think of what <em>she</em> would have approved will be a solace -to your mind.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>On the same day she wrote to her nephew, the Rev. -W. F. T. Hamilton: ‘I go on with my daily Mission -work; it seems what I have specially to live for. Is it -not possible that your sainted Mother takes an interest in -it still?’</p> - -<p>In the first letter to Mrs. J. Boswell, after receiving the -telegram, she spoke more openly of her own feelings:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Oct. 23.</i>— ... Your letter to Lettie, which I saw at Pindi, before -my own followed me there, quite prepared me for Edith’s thoughtful -telegram. I received that telegram at the Batala station, after my -long dark night’s journey back from Pindi. I thank and bless God for -my precious sister’s bliss; but to me the blank——! I suppose that -the funeral will be to-morrow; in thought I follow my poor bereaved -Leila,—but my mind dwells less on the grief of those left, than the -joy of her who is with her Saviour. I thanked God for her to-day at -Holy Communion.</p> - -<p>‘I hope that there will be no unnecessary gloom to-morrow. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_494" id="Page_494">[494]</a></span> -seems to me so incongruous to throw a heavy black pall over the -dear form, when the spirit is wearing the shining white robe. I -hate black,—the colour of sin and spiritual death! My own beloved -sister had nothing to do with either. My tears fall as I write; but -I dare not, cannot, murmur; though life seems to me a weary -pilgrimage. I am very home-sick, my Bella; but the Lord will call -me when He knows that I am ready. He gives me some work to do -for Him. I must live for that.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>And again, on the 4th of November:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘This has been a year of trials. Since I reached seventy, I feel as -if my path had grown steeper, and flowers wither. But when the -summit of the Hill is reached—what joy! I can hardly help envying -my sweet Laura; and, oh, I am thankful that she was spared acute -suffering! Her end—as regards this world—was indeed peace; her -happiness will be never-ending. You see that I am again at -Futteyghur, for about five days, to keep Miss Key company.... It -was no sacrifice to me to come out to the village, for I was glad to -be in a very quiet place just now. Batala is too full of friends and -too cheerful for my present mood. Work is congenial; not cheerful -meetings. Mrs. Corfield gave a sort of Concert on Wednesday, to -which every one was invited; but I, of course, stayed at home. -There is no one but Daisy Key and myself here.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>From the Journal entries it is evident that Miss Tucker -gave herself only one clear day of rest—and that day a -Sunday—for indulgence in any wise of her sorrow. She -had the telegram on a Saturday; and on Monday the -usual round of visiting went on.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Oct. 20.</i><a name="FNanchor_141" id="FNanchor_141"></a><a href="#Footnote_141" class="fnanchor">[141]</a>— ... My precious Laura departed.’</p> - -<p>‘<i>Oct. 22.</i>—Returned to Batala. Telegram.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>This is the brief Diary notice of what occurred.</p> - -<p>The next few months were marked by no very especial -events; only the usual ups and downs, anxieties, disappointments, -encouragements, of Missionary work.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_495" id="Page_495">[495]</a></span> -Missionaries came and went as usual; and partings took -place, some of which tried her much. Miss Eva Warren, -who had spent several weeks with her in 1889, came in -November to be a permanent inmate of ‘Sunshine’; no -small pleasure to Miss Tucker. But Miss Warren, like -so many others, broke down under the Panjab climate; -and in the spring of 1893 she had to give up her post and -return home.</p> - -<p>In April 1893 Miss Tucker wrote to her niece, Miss -L. V. Tucker:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘Though I have written playfully to your father, I am not in a -playful mood. This is such a year of partings for your poor old -Auntie. You know about my Louis and Lettie; then energetic -Minnie Dixie left us; to-day I go to the station for the last look of -the dear, good Corfields ... and their three fine children, accompanied -by Rosa Singha, who has been such a help and comfort here. -On Monday week sweet Eva Warren, one of my most lovable -companions, leaves me.... I do not expect to see her again on -earth. Next month Rowland Bateman, my very tip-top favourite -amongst all Missionaries, is to start for England. What a blessing -it is that there is One Friend Who says, “I will never leave thee, -nor forsake”; “Even to hoar hairs I will carry you”!’</p> - -</div> - -<p>A few slight recollections of Miss Warren’s may well -come in here. They are of particular interest, being -almost entirely of this last year of Miss Tucker’s life, -after the death of Mrs. Hamilton. The two had been very -little together before November 1892, when Miss Warren -returned from eighteen months’ sick-leave, to be again in -three months invalided.</p> - -<p>‘She was very impulsive,’ Miss Warren says. ‘We used -to say of her sometimes that she needed cool young heads -to guide her. Her energy was very remarkable. During -the last cold weather I was with her, I could see how -much she felt the cold, but she would not give in in the -least.... Being an Honorary Missionary, she was very -scrupulous about not taking any extra privileges in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_496" id="Page_496">[496]</a></span> -way of holidays.... My impression is that she had -formerly known the language better than she did latterly. -In spite of her efforts not to forget what she had learned, -some had slipped away from her. She said to me one -day: “I speak Hindustani as the Duke of Wellington -used to talk French.” “Oh,” I said, “how was that?” -“Bravely!” she said. She had a very merry way of -laughing, when anything amused her.</p> - -<p>‘She said to me once: “I think what is wanted out -here is—Missionaries’ graves. Not the graves of young -Missionaries, who have died here, but the graves of old -Missionaries, who have given their whole lives for these -people!” ... She was very humble about her own work, -and used sometimes to be quite depressed after reading -accounts of other people’s successful work, thinking that -she had met with no success.’</p> - -<p>Miss Warren relates also how she would not unfrequently -say: ‘So-and-so is one of those people who think me a -great deal better than I am.’ Her conversation was still -very bright and full of interest; the active mind had by no -means parted with its vigour. Sometimes she would talk -eagerly about old days, and tell stories of the Duke of -Wellington, a subject which always aroused her. Or again -she would plunge into the topic of Shakespeare’s Plays. -Or she would read some of her favourite Spurgeon’s -Sermons. Another pet book of hers was Baxter’s <cite>Saints’ -Rest</cite>; and this she read through with Miss Warren. -Occasionally still she would read aloud one of her own -stories in the evening. Happily, she retained her old love -of games; and they must have been a great relaxation -after the hard day’s work. Sometimes, when Miss Warren -had been reading or studying, she would say: ‘Now you -must come and frisk a little!’</p> - -<p>The old untidiness in dress had never been overcome; -and the mixture of colours was often remarkable. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_497" id="Page_497">[497]</a></span> -though the clothes might not be artistically chosen, or put -on with great neatness, they were always daintily clean,—no -matter how many years they might have been in use.</p> - -<p>Thin and fragile-looking as Miss Tucker had always -been, she was by this time hardly more than mere skin -and bone; and her face was singularly covered all over -with fine wrinkles. This it was, no doubt, which helped -to give her the appearance, spoken of by so many, of -being far older than she really was,—rather like ninety -than like seventy. The vigour and energy which she still -retained were, however, certainly not like ninety,—or even -like seventy.</p> - -<p>Here are a few more selections from the Journal in the -year 1893,—the closing year of Charlotte Tucker’s Indian -life:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Feb. 21.</i>—Village. B. Saw fourteen girls; only eleven worthy of -being counted. Heard of five more. C. D. Did not see him, but E., -F., and another familiar face. Men and women listened to story -of Knocking, etc. Some man said, did not understand me. I -repeated John iii. 16, and asked E. to repeat it too. He did so, and -no one could pretend not to understand. I asked E. to instruct -them; he said simply that it was difficult for a Hindu to teach about -Christ, and twice said that a Christian preacher should be sent. -Hindu Bibis nice. Seeing the picture of Knocking, they seemed to -understand; and one or two appeared to <em>have</em> opened the door of -the heart....’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Feb. 22.</i>—G. H. Gentle, pleasing. I lent her <cite>Stories for -Women</cite>. J. nicer than I have ever found her. K., a delightful visit. -Her husband, L. M., a fine-looking man, has returned, and the -family are <em>so</em> happy. I saw first one, then another child, on the -father’s knee; the sweet wife’s face is full of pleasure. L. M. says -that he is going to be a Christian.... His brother, N. O., seems a -thoughtful, nice man. He is puzzled about God’s having a Son, but -told me that he did not ask questions for controversy, but wishing -to be instructed....’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>March 27.</i>—Village. P. Sirdar’s house. Pretty bibi, not attentive, -and bhatija ill-mannered. Other boys listened, specially nice R.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_498" id="Page_498">[498]</a></span> -... Take more Urdu and Gurmukhi, and a little Hindi next time. -Gave three Gospels and other books. Weather cold.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>May 19.</i>—S. T. Charming. U. V. sixteen years old. Appears to -be the wife of the uncle of some and <em>grandfather</em> of others, in the -house.... Has Gospel and <cite>Pilgrim’s Progress</cite>. Read and translated -to me some pages of latter, with great emphasis. Seems a -believer. I have sent her Psalms in Hindi....’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>June 15.</i>—Adopted Lefroy as Nephew.... Fancy-fair.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>June 17.</i>—With W.’s bibi and Ayahs, Ascension and Pentecost. -Evening walk, met two respectable-looking men. Had Urdu and -Hindi Gospels in my hand. One man’s glance at Urdu encouraged -me to offer it. Man much pleased. Talked English; in some way -belongs to Viceroy. Wished to give me something for Gospel. I -said that I did not sell, but gave it with pleasure. Other man readily -received Hindi Gospel. A little farther met with a curious-looking -man, with appearance of a devotee. Offered him Gurmukhi Gospel. -Accepted eagerly, and, to my surprise, took my hand, and said -earnestly in English, “Thanks—dear—Madam!” Lord, bless Thy -Word!’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>June 27.</i>—Returned from Simla. Happy journey downhill with -dear Lefroy. I have left Batala work for four weeks and four days.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>June 28.</i>—Full of difficulties. Lord, help me! CLOSED -DISPENSARY.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Aug. 31.</i>— ... Here closes August, a month of Blessings....’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<i>Oct. 28.</i>—Village. P. started for V. But all V.’s inhabitants -seemed to have turned out for the funeral of a young man. Probably -eighty or a hundred present. I turned to the left, where about forty -women and girls were standing or seated on the ground. I repeated -twice over to them, not singing, a little hymn which I had made; -also the precious verse, “God so loved.” Had not only good -listening, but some of the women repeated after me the burden of -the hymn. I had chest-cold, so could not have sung without -coughing.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The last page of Miss Tucker’s Diary, which follows -immediately after this entry of October 28, is reproduced -in facsimile.</p> - -<p>Writing to Miss Minnie Dixie on July 21, 1893, she -asked: ‘Have you heard that I have a new nephew, Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_499" id="Page_499">[499]</a></span> -Lefroy? He is Irish, of Huguenot descent.... He is a -gifted man, and a devoted Missionary.’ Mr. Lefroy, -belonging to the Cambridge Delhi Mission, which is in -connection with the S.P.G., has been mentioned in an -earlier letter as arguing for over five successive hours -with Muhammadans in a mosque. This was probably -the latest of her numerous Indian ‘adoptions.’</p> - -<p>She was for months in much trouble about the -Dispensary, as it seemed impossible to find any one, -European or Indian, capable of undertaking it and also -free to do so. The attendance had been good; often -more than a hundred women in one day coming for help; -and Miss Tucker was exceedingly desirous to keep it open. -But so many had broken down, or were absent on furlough, -that for a while the closing proved unavoidable.</p> - -<p>That, from time to time, Miss Tucker suffered from -depression and moods of sadness, there can be no question. -She never allowed such moods to interfere with her work; -but she was not always in a state of high spirits and -rejoicing. If nothing else showed this, it would be plain -from certain brief passages in her journal, occurring at -intervals,—sometimes at long intervals. Such passages as -these speak plainly:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘1888.—I have suffered a good deal from bodily languor and mental -depression.’ ‘1888. Depression has overtaken me. Thank God, -not doubt or despair.’ ‘1891. Felt the weight of years much; work -a struggle.’ ‘1892. I begin my seventy-second year with a sense -of weakness almost amounting to exhaustion.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>But these and others of the same description were -exceptional. In a general way her steadfast courage and -cheerfulness were remarkable.</p> - -<p>On the 30th of August 1893 she wrote to Mr. Bateman -in a strain as cheery as ever, despite the weight of years -and worries:—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_500" id="Page_500">[500]</a></span></p><div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">O my dearest Rowland</span>,—So you take to lecturing your ancient -Auntie, because she has come down to the Plains, where even an old -woman is <em>needed</em>, instead of being a weak, languishing, fine lady up -at Simla, where she was not needed one bit. Why, I am ever so -much more frisky here, more cheerful and well, as well as more -useful. Barring a few infirmities of age, I am in as good health, I -think, as I ever was in England. I paid a good visit to-day to a -village about four miles off, and am none the worse. Why, Rowland, -I am actually the <em>only</em> Missionary, man or woman, now in Batala; -and I have not dear Babu Singha, for he is at Chamba. Who would -there be to escort our little train of bibis and bachelors to Chapel -every afternoon, if an old dame were not here? I feel like a hen -with chickens; and Herbert said that we look like a school. We are -sometimes the better part of the congregation; for we have little -girls home from school, and expect more here, and two little boys -also from Narowal. Batala without a Miss T. would be like a teapot -without a top.</p> - -<p>‘But you must not fancy that I am alone. Mr. Clark has considerately -sent me a lovely young German lady, to keep house for me, -which she does very nicely, and I am becoming a little fatter. I -often take her to Zenanas with me; but there she is rather a hindrance -than a help.... People will stare at her, instead of listening to me. -She cannot help being attractive. She is very happy with me; but -of course, as she does not do Mission work, this arrangement must -not continue after Miss Clarke comes back from the Hills.</p> - -<p>‘Now I hope that you are satisfied, dear Rowland, that there has -been no foolish imprudence, or worshipping of her old broken net, on -the part of your ever attached</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Auntie</span>.</p> - -<p>‘Kind love to Helen. Mr. Gray is to come for next Sunday’s -services!’</p> - -</div> - -<p>On the 13th of October, in a letter to Miss Edith -Tucker, she observed: ‘I have such a nice Missionary -companion, Miss Gertrude Clarke.... Batala is filling -again; it was so empty during the holidays, that, had -not Miss L. been sent to keep me company, I should -have had no European within twenty miles. I was sole -Missionary here.’</p> - -<p>On the 31st of the same month, October, she wrote to -Miss Minnie Dixie:—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_501" id="Page_501">[501]</a></span></p><div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘I made a grand expedition last week,—I have still four days of -my six weeks’ holiday left; but as we enter November to-morrow, -I am not likely to take them. I actually went to Bahrwal, and saw -the Consecration of Mr. and Mrs. Perkins’ choice little church; -simple, but in nice taste.... The dear Bishop was of course there, -and held a Confirmation Service in the afternoon, at which about -twelve or fourteen Peasant converts were received. I saw a good -many friends....</p> - -<p>‘I send you a little hymn, which you may like to sing. It is -perhaps the last thing which may be composed by your affectionate -aged Auntie,</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">C. M. Tucker</span>.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>From these words it would seem as if already some -dim sense had come that her time on Earth was nearly -over. She was indeed drawing very close to the dark -River, which to her did not look dark but bright; and -perhaps her eyes had already caught the ‘glitter’ of its -waters. A friend, writing soon after, observed: ‘She had -been growing more and more conscious of weakness, if -not actually weaker, and was looking forward eagerly to -release.’ In the month of November came what she was -wont to call ‘her Indian Birthday,’—the day on which she -had first landed on Indian shores, eighteen years before. -And, as she soon after said, when ill, though not yet so ill -as to cause anxiety: ‘When the Anniversary of my arrival -in this country came round this year, I felt that my work -was done, and that I should not live to see another.’</p> - -<p>To some minds it may appear as if this perpetual longing -for death contained something of a morbid and unhealthy -nature. No doubt, as a general rule, it is perfectly natural -to cling to life, to shrink from death; and where a desire -for the latter exists, it often is romantic and unnatural, -or else it arises from impatience of life’s troubles, and -from a wish to escape those troubles. This, however, -was not the case with Charlotte Tucker. Her romance -was never unhealthy romance; she was not cowardly, nor -was she in the least morbid. On the contrary, she was -thoroughly healthy, high-spirited, vigorous in body and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_502" id="Page_502">[502]</a></span> -mind,—exceptionally vigorous for her years, through the -greater part of middle life and old age, till within a short -time before her death. And although she had certainly -numerous trials in the course of her seventy-two years,—as -who has not?—hers was in many respects a very happy -life. She had freedom from money cares; she had plenty -of interests; she had success in her pursuits; she had -abundance of loving and steadfast friends; she had, above -all, one most satisfying intimacy; and, in addition to these -things, she had a natural buoyancy, a keen sense of fun, -a ready appreciation of the ridiculous, which in themselves -would brighten life, and which are <em>not</em> characteristics -usually found in morbid and self-centred people.</p> - -<p>What was unusual in her was the strong and intense -realisation of the Other World. Spiritual things to her -were absolutely real. That which is unseen was to her as -if seen. The love of Christ was more to her than the love -of all earthly friends. Paradise was more to her than -Earth. It was not that she did not love Earth, but that -her love for Heaven was greater. It was not that she -could not enter into the bright things of this world, but -that she found the things of the Other World brighter -still. She could never be satisfied with the present life; -because she was always craving for the higher existence, -always longing to rise ‘nearer—nearer’ to God. She was -like a caged lark, impatient for freedom. And at last, -after all these years of waiting, the time was come.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_503" id="Page_503">[503]</a></span></p> - -<h3 id="II_CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcapuc">A.D.</span> 1893<br /> -THE HOME-GOING</span></h3> - -<p>Up to the end of October Miss Tucker had seemed to be -on the whole much the same as usual; though more than -one watcher had noted a gradual failure of strength. The -expedition to Bahrwal, for the Dedication, proved to be -too much for her powers; especially as she insisted on -returning to Batala the same evening, so as not to break -into another day’s work.</p> - -<p>At the time she appeared, as Mrs. Wade afterwards -wrote, ‘though frail, wonderfully bright, ... full of -conversation while talking to the Bishop and others.’ -When the ‘feast’ took place she sat upon the ground -among the Indian Christians, after her old style, utterly -refusing a chair. Some who were present left in the -middle of the day, so soon as the Dedication was over; -but Miss Tucker remained till the evening, so as to be -present at the second Service. Notwithstanding her -brightness, Mr. Clark was much impressed with the -alteration in her look; and he has since said that ‘she -evidently believed it to be her leave-taking.’</p> - -<p>The day ended, Miss Tucker seemed very much -exhausted; and when returning by rail, with Mr. and Mrs. -Wade, she lay down on the seat to rest. The result of -this expedition was a severe cold, with much hoarseness; -and though her daily work went on as usual, she must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_504" id="Page_504">[504]</a></span> -have felt very poorly. Mr. Clark speaks of her as, a few -days later, passing through Amritsar, and calling to see -himself and his wife. So ill did he think her looking, that -the expression he makes use of is: ‘Death was even then -written on her face.’</p> - -<p>Others do not appear to have been so soon alarmed. -On November 13, writing to Miss Dixie, Miss Tucker -mentioned casually, ‘I have a cold,’ as an excuse for -her shaking hand; and said no more. But it was ‘the -beginning of the end.’</p> - -<p>About this time she kindly took in a friend, Mrs. C——, -who seemed poorly and in need of change; and who, -after coming to ‘Sonnenschein,’ proved to be seriously ill. -Miss Tucker sat much with her, in a hot room; going out -from thence, late each evening, into the night air, to reach -her own little dwelling. On the 11th, two days before her -letter to Miss Dixie, she confessed to pain in the side, -telegraphed for a nurse, and went to bed. Next day, -Sunday, she was up again, and at Church. Then the -Nurse appeared, to be sent off on Monday, in charge of -Mrs. C——, to Amritsar; after which again Miss Tucker -went down.</p> - -<p>Dr. Clark came to see her; and though the fever was -not very high, and no especial anxiety was felt, it was -decided that she ought to go to Amritsar to be nursed—a -Doctor there being on the spot. Miss Tucker was much -grieved at the decision. She longed to remain, and to die -in her dear Batala; and even then, evidently, she was -making up her mind to the likelihood of death. But, -however unwillingly, she submitted to the wishes of -others, and went.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> - -<img src="images/diary.jpg" width="700" height="633" alt="" /> - -<p class="caption">THE LAST PAGE OF A. L. O. E.’S DIARY</p> - -</div> - -<p>The journey did no harm; and on arrival at Amritsar -Miss Tucker was most tenderly nursed by her friend, Miss -Wauton, and others, with the help soon of a regular nurse. -But though the fever yielded to remedies, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_505" id="Page_505">[505]</a></span> -bronchitis improved, both the cough and pain becoming -for some days better, she was worn out, and had no -rallying power. The weakness was extreme, and the -dislike to food could not be overcome. Steadily and -slowly she sank, lasting just three weeks from the date of -the latest tremulous entry in her Journal.</p> - -<p>Dr. Arthur Lankester<a name="FNanchor_142" id="FNanchor_142"></a><a href="#Footnote_142" class="fnanchor">[142]</a> had written on the 27th of -October: ‘Sorry to say Auntie has taken a severe chill -at Bahrwal; she looks very frail and weak; only, she -is so wonderful that we all hope she will soon be about -once more, to cheer us all with her bright, sweet smile.’ -He wrote again on Nov. 22: ‘Dear Miss Tucker has been -moved to the Mission-house here,<a name="FNanchor_143" id="FNanchor_143"></a><a href="#Footnote_143" class="fnanchor">[143]</a> and I am thankful to -be allowed to be with her. She is very, very ill, but so -bright, and longing to go “Home.” I fear she is fast -sinking. It is a great privilege to be allowed to help look -after her.’ And again, on Nov. 30: ‘Auntie sinking fast; -the end can’t be far off. O what joy and glory are -waiting for her!—for us a terrible blank that nothing can -fill. No one could be quite like her.’</p> - -<p>The last dictated letter of Charlotte Tucker was to her -niece, Mrs. J. Boswell, on the 21st of November:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘<span class="smcap">My dearest Bella Francis</span>,—You will all like to know how I -am getting on. I have come again to House Beautiful in Amritsar, -where the four sweet damsels, Faith, etc., glide about to see to my -comfort. Yesterday dear Gertrude joined us, and also Miss B. A., -so there is a regular bevy. Dr. Clark said yesterday, with a very -broad smile, that we were getting on; but I cannot quite see the pith -of this. When a worn-out ekka horse tumbles down on the road, and -no one can make him get up, one can scarcely say that he is getting -on. Getting up must come first. I ought to be very thankful for so -much kindness; but you can imagine, darling, that when I hope to -soar on eagle’s wings, it is rather a trial to have the doctor tie them -down so tightly, that when I hope to fly I cannot even creep.</p> - -<p>‘I fancy this has been an attack of bronchitis and influenza. -Now this is difficult to me even to dictate. Would you have little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_506" id="Page_506">[506]</a></span> -bulletins roughly printed on my account, and put them in envelopes, -and send them to ——?‘: after which follows a list of relatives and -friends in England, together with one or two short messages, and a -request that they would ask for her ‘patience and perfect submission.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The day succeeding Miss Tucker’s arrival in Amritsar -Mrs. Wade came to see her; and during either that call or -the next Miss Tucker put the question, ‘Is my face altered?’ -Mrs. Wade hesitated, unable to deny that she saw a -change. Miss Tucker immediately added: ‘Don’t mind -telling me. It is harder to be patient on this pillow than to -go inside the Golden Gate.’ And to Miss Jackson she said: -‘To depart and to be with Christ is so <em>very</em> much better!’</p> - -<p>Many friends came to ask after her; but on account of -her excessive feebleness a very limited number could be -admitted; only one or two in the day, and merely for a -few minutes each.</p> - -<p>One day, on hearing Mr. Clark’s voice outside, she said, -‘Is that Mr. Clark?’ They told her that she must not -see any one; she was too weak. ‘But I must see him!’ -she replied; and then, ‘I <em>will</em> see him!’—with a flash of -the old determination. When he was brought in she said -to him: ‘I am dying! I know it. I am very happy,—in -perfect peace,—without a doubt or a care,—but I have -none of the rapturous feelings of triumph, which I have -rather looked forward to!’ Then she added: ‘It is best -as it is!’ The next day and the day after, when Mr. -Clark was again admitted, she was both times too ill to -say anything.</p> - -<p>She was indeed this time far too entirely worn out and -exhausted, both bodily and mentally, for any shout of joy. -All was quiet trust, perfect confidence; but eagerness -and exultation were physically out of the question. She -could only wait peacefully to be carried through the waters -of the River. Rapture would come when she reached the -Other Side.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_507" id="Page_507">[507]</a></span></p> - -<p>Still, there was the same longing as ever to go. Several -times she said: ‘Do not pray that I may stay here.’ And -another time: ‘Christ has abolished death! I am longing -to go Home!’</p> - -<p>On Sunday, November 26th, Mr. Wade came to her -room for Holy Communion; Miss Wauton and Miss -Jackson being present. Miss Tucker was perfectly clear -in mind, and able to join audibly in the responses; but -the after-exhaustion was great.</p> - -<p>Sometimes she would speak lovingly of her friends, and -would wish that she could see one and another. ‘It is a -pity Rowland Bateman is not here,’ she said. Also she -would give directions for presents to be sent to one and -another after her death. On the 27th she sent for Babu -Singha, and mentioned particulars as to the manner in -which she wished her funeral to be conducted. The boys—her -dear brown boys, as she had so often called them—were -to carry her to the grave, on a native charpai. No -coffin was to be used; and the expenditure might not -exceed five rupees. She was of course to be buried in -Batala. Nobody was to shed tears; nobody was to put -on mourning; and her own funeral hymn, one which she -had written quite lately in Urdu, was to be sung.</p> - -<p>One day Miss Jackson repeated the hymn, ‘For ever -with the Lord!’—and Miss Tucker said, ‘That is my -favourite hymn!’ So it too was afterwards chosen to be -sung at the funeral.</p> - -<p>On Wednesday, November 29, her temperature fell to -95°; and great difficulty was experienced in restoring it to -normal. Two days later it fell again; and this time there -was no rally. The cough and other symptoms were exceedingly -trying; and all Friday night she suffered greatly -from oppression, restlessness, and weariness. Again and -again she could be heard to murmur, ‘Quickly! Quickly!’ -Nothing else that she said could be distinguished.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_508" id="Page_508">[508]</a></span></p> - -<p>Early in the morning of Saturday, December the 2nd, -she became more placid; and when asked if she felt any -pain she made a negative sign. Dr. Weitbrecht came to -read and pray with her. She seemed to recognise him, -and to understand what he said; but she had no power -to articulate. Soon after this unconsciousness set in, and -lasted to the end, broken only once by a lifting of the eyelids, -and an upward look, as if she saw something which -others could not see.</p> - -<p>At a quarter-past three in the afternoon, calmly and -without a struggle, she passed away.</p> - -<p>The change which came over her in death was -remarkable. A change is often seen; a return sometimes -to greater youth and beauty. Death smooths away -wrinkles, refines rugged features, sharpens the outlines. -But in this case the transformation was of a rare type. ‘I -never saw a face so altered,’ wrote Dr. Clark, who had -attended her. ‘It became a face of massive power; more -like that of the Duke of Wellington than anything else; -the nose particularly so, and the jaw. A strong, massive, -determined, powerful face. I suppose the power was -always there, but masked by the habitual gentleness and -tender consideration for all around, which was so beautiful -a feature in her beautiful character.’</p> - -<p>This allusion to the Duke of Wellington naturally -recalls her ardent admiration for him. She would in life -have probably counted no compliment greater than to -have been called like him. But the description is singular, -because her features had never been of the same type as -the Duke’s features. She had not a Roman nose; and -while many describe hers as a ‘bright face,’ ‘a sparkling -face,’ ‘a long, thin face,’ and even in one case ‘a -small face’ no one ever uses such words as ‘massive’ or -‘powerful,’ as descriptive of her appearance at any period -of her life. The touch of death seems to have torn away<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_509" id="Page_509">[509]</a></span> -a kind of veil, leaving bare the original outlines; perhaps -to some extent indicating what the face might -have become, if unsoftened by the moulding influences -of discipline.</p> - -<p>Miss Jackson wrote from Amritsar, on Monday, December -4th: ‘Yesterday the Dead March was played in -Church, and all the congregation stood. It was announced -that all who wished to take a last look at the dear face -could do so at our house at a certain hour; and about -sixty availed themselves of this permission.’ And Miss -Wauton adds: ‘Miss Jackson will have told you that -many friends in Amritsar came on Sunday afternoon, to -take their last look at the peaceful sleeper. The hands -were clasped as if in prayer. The face was thin and -worn; but this only brought out a clearer chiselling of the -features; and the calmness of death gave a grandeur and -nobility to the expression, beyond anything we had seen -in the face while living. She looked, as one friend said, -“like a Crusader.”’</p> - -<p>On December the 4th they bore all that remained on -Earth of Charlotte Tucker from Amritsar to Batala. As -she had forbidden the use of a coffin, the body was laid -upon a small Native bedstead, and, being carefully secured -in position, was conveyed thus, not by rail but by road. -On reaching Batala, the charpai, with its quiet burden, -was placed in the Church of the Epiphany,—known colloquially -as ‘the large Church,’ to distinguish it from -the little School ‘Chapel,’—there to remain till morning. -Some of the Baring High School boys took turns in -watching beside the loved form all night through.</p> - -<p>Next day, Tuesday, was fixed upon for the funeral. It -had been delayed unusually long, to allow friends from a -distance to be present. A great many came from Amritsar, -Lahore, and other stations; and a message from the -Bishop expressed his regret at being unavoidably kept<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_510" id="Page_510">[510]</a></span> -away by a Confirmation. The Archdeacon and the -Bishop’s Chaplain were both present, as also were Dr. -Weitbrecht, Mr. Clark, Mr. Wade, Mr. Mackenzie, Mr. -Wright, Mr. Wigram, Mr. Shireff, Mr. Hoare, Mr. Coverdale, -and Mr. Grey, all in white surplices. A large congregation -filled the whole Church, including Missionaries, -friends, Native Christians, Non-Christians of Batala, and -boys of both the High School and the ‘Plough.’ The -first part of the Burial Service was read there; and two -or three hymns were sung. Mr. Clark preached a short -sermon from Acts i. 8.</p> - -<p>Then began the Procession from the Church to the -little Christian Cemetery; the latter being close to ‘Sonnenschein,’ -and nearly two miles away from the Church. -Happily it was a cool day; and the roads had been well -watered beforehand. A Police-guard preceded the Procession.</p> - -<p>First came the surpliced Clergy; then the bier, which -was covered with a white chaddah; while many beautiful -white Crosses and wreaths sent by friends were laid upon -it. Some of the older schoolboys carried the bier, taking -turns. Next came the ladies and other Missionaries; -also the general congregation, and the rest of the boys. -Crowds of leading Batala men were present. A letter -from Miss Wauton, written at the time, describes the scene -graphically:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘After the Easter hymn, “Lo, in the grave He lay,” the congregation -then formed into Procession; the Clergy first, then the Bier.... -The long line of followers stretched out, till we could scarcely see the -end of it. The distance being about two miles, the walk occupied -more than an hour. Hymns were sung the whole way; and the groups -of people, Hindus and Muhammadans, who lined the road and -crowded the tops of the houses, as we passed the city, seemed much -interested in looking on. Many of them, I think, came as far as the -Cemetery.</p> - -<p>‘As we passed through the gates, copies of a hymn were distributed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_511" id="Page_511">[511]</a></span> -which the dear Auntie had composed about three weeks before -she was taken ill. On sending it to me at the time, she added in her -letter: “Perhaps you will like to see my little funeral hymn. Perhaps -it may be sung when I go to sleep.”</p> - -<p>‘We also had the hymn, “Jesus lives”; and closed with her favourite, -“For ever with the Lord.” Deep feeling was shown; and many of the -boys could scarcely restrain their tears. We all felt we had lost a -friend, such as we should never see again. The Mission is bereaved,—not -only Batala, but the whole of the Panjab; and we all mourn -our loss together....</p> - -<p>‘Dr. Weitbrecht had arranged everything for yesterday most -beautifully. The whole Service was, I think, in perfect accordance -with her wishes; simple, sweet, and solemn, yet with an element of joy -and hope about it, which was suitable to her bright, joyous nature. -We could indeed give thanks for the fight she had fought, the -course she had finished, the crown she had won; and so we laid her -down,—till the Day break and the shadows flee away. “Till He -come!”’</p> - -</div> - -<p>Another eye-witness, Mrs. Wade, wrote:—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘We were very thankful that it was possible to delay the meeting -at Batala till Tuesday, as it gave opportunity for friends from some -distance to be present. We all met in the Church for the first part -of the Service and sermon by Mr. Clark,—the dear familiar face no -longer among the worshippers, but in the King’s Presence.... The -walk from the Church to the little Cemetery, quite near her own home, -is long, and occupied an hour; during which time many hymns of -faith and love were softly sung, and at the grave her own hymn, one -she had composed not six weeks ago for her own funeral.... Dr. -Weitbrecht then completed the Service.... The silence of the onlookers, -as one went towards the grave, was very noticeable. Many -of them felt that they had indeed lost a friend. A large number of -the Native gentlemen of the City were present in the Church and -during the Service, with reverent demeanour; and when we had left, -I was told, many of the poor women came to weep at her grave.</p> - -<p>‘We thank God for all she was during the long life, and especially -in the eighteen years in India.... Batala will never be the same. -Many of the elder boys, who carried her, were weeping.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>And from the pen of Dr. Weitbrecht we have the -following:—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_512" id="Page_512">[512]</a></span></p><div class="blockquote"> - -<p>‘After the Burial was over, I spoke a few words about her to the -many people who had assembled from outside, trying to impress on -them the motive power of her life: “The love of Christ constraineth -us.” After most of the Clergy and visitors had left the Cemetery, a -number of women from the city came to take a last look, and to wail -at the grave. Times without number, gentlemen of Batala and men -of lower standing come to tell me how she went to their houses, and -sympathised with their wives and daughters in joy and sorrow. Not -a few will miss her open-handed charity; and, far more, her bright, -ever-ready sympathy.’</p> - -</div> - -<p>The Urdu hymn, written by Miss Tucker for her own -funeral, has been roughly translated as follows:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘The beloved Jesus sleeps in the grave;</div> -<div class="verse">Morn breaks, and He Who came to save</div> -<div class="verse">Has risen, glorious King of Kings,</div> -<div class="verse">Victorious o’er all evil things.</div> -<div class="verse">It is Christ’s power, Christ’s glorious Crown;</div> -<div class="verse">His rule shall spread with much renown;</div> -<div class="verse">Christ has risen, ne’er to die;</div> -<div class="verse">Hallelujah! Victory!’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>One fact may be mentioned, as a slight token of the -loving esteem in which she was held. When Miss Wauton -took the hymn to be printed, the Manager of the Press,—not -himself a Christian, but one who had known Miss -Tucker,—said immediately, ‘Oh, are those lines Miss -Tucker’s? Then I will do them for nothing.’ He printed -off some hundreds at his own expense.</p> - -<p>Out of the innumerable letters written to friends, after -the passing away of Charlotte Tucker, three short extracts -alone must be given.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">FROM THE BISHOP OF LAHORE.</p> - -<p>‘For the simple yet always aspiring spirit the change will be a -blessed one indeed! Her endurance unto the end, and her constant -rejoicing in the Lord, have been a great example, which many of us -need to follow.... It was a beautiful and consistent life; and she -will still speak, though out of sight.’</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_513" id="Page_513">[513]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">FROM THE REV. ROBERT CLARK.</p> - -<p>‘Miss Tucker ... will not be easily forgotten there (at Batala), nor -indeed in India generally, where her name will long continue to be a -household word, both for what she was and for what she did. In -giving her to India, the Church of Christ gave of her very best.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">FROM THE REV. ROWLAND BATEMAN.</p> - -<p>‘There is but one voice from India, whether it comes from Natives -or Europeans.... Do you know those lines of Toplady’s, beginning, -“Deathless Principle arise”? They are old-fashioned and out of -date, <i>i.e.</i> out of the range of the rising generation, but they are -peculiarly beautiful, and keep recurring, as I mentally pass through -the ministry which Miss Wauton and others were privileged to offer -to our beloved Aunt in Amritsar. There is one touch in Dr. Weitbrecht’s -p.c. which may not have reached you. He mentions that -many women came from the city, to wail at the grave. This is as it -should be; for though we know better than to wail or even weep over -the grave, in them it is but the expression of love and appreciation -and real kindred. Nobody—I speak of non-Christians—weeps and -wails except over relatives. We are sorely wounded, and our spirits -suffer a sort of collapse; but we have only to go over the hallowed, -holy memory of her converse and example, to feel refreshed and -braced again.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘“With joy and gladness has she been brought,</div> -<div class="verse">And has entered into the King’s Palace.”’</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -</div> - -<p>So ends the story of Charlotte Maria Tucker; for fifty-four -years <span class="smcap">A Lady of England</span>, and for eighteen years -<span class="smcap">A Lady of India</span>. It is the story of a brave and self-sacrificing -life, whether in her quiet English home, or in -the vicissitudes of her Indian career. I have done my -best to present her simply and truly as that which she was,—a -very unusual and noble character, with of course some -of those defects which are found in even the best and -noblest of men and women. Charlotte Tucker would herself -have been the first to deprecate any attempt to make -her out a faultless being. Faultless she was not; but she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_514" id="Page_514">[514]</a></span> -<em>was</em> singularly true, unselfish, devoted, single-hearted, -earnest-minded, and loving.</p> - -<p>The one aim perpetually before her eyes was to carry -out the Will of her Father in Heaven, alike in the greatest -and in the smallest matters. Whether she were striving -to bring the Heathen to a knowledge of the Truth, whether -she were discussing difficult questions with a Muhammadan, -whether she were writing a book, whether she were entertaining -a guest, whether she were trying to cheer a sick -friend, whether she were playing a game with little brown -boys,—in any case she put the whole of herself into the -task which she had in hand, and she did it ‘unto God.’ -To the utmost of her ability, all that she undertook was -done thoroughly. There was no half-heartedness, no -slurring over of one thing or another. Difficulties, oppositions, -failures, discouragements, lack of apparent results, -all these, instead of disheartening her, seemed rather to -spur her on to renewed efforts.</p> - -<p>Beyond the few words above, no eulogistic ending to -her Biography is needed. If her Life as it was lived does -not speak for itself, mere words of praise would be thrown -away. It is possible that her example, in going out to -India after the age of fifty, will lead others to do the -same; and if so, one object of her going will have been -accomplished. That may well be the result in England of -her eighteen years’ toil. The results in India lie beyond -our puny powers of measurement.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="footnotes"> - -<h2>FOOTNOTES</h2> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1" id="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> It was a custom in the family, through several generations, to give a -Christmas present to each child of <em>new silver</em>, the amount given being one -shilling for each year of age, and sixpence in addition. Thus, a child of ten -would receive ten and sixpence, all in new silver.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_2" id="Footnote_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> One of a band of robbers.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_3" id="Footnote_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Chief police-officer.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_4" id="Footnote_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> At the Official East India Company’s dinner, given by the Directors; ladies -being admitted to a gallery as spectators.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_5" id="Footnote_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> A pet name for her sister.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_6" id="Footnote_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> <cite>Two Noble Lives</cite>, vol. ii. p. 220.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_7" id="Footnote_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> Mr. Tucker. He was never knighted.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_8" id="Footnote_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Prince and Princess of Wales.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_9" id="Footnote_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Of the Marylebone Workhouse.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_10" id="Footnote_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Daughter of A. L. O. E.’s sister Laura.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_11" id="Footnote_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> Mr. Henry Carre Tucker.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_12" id="Footnote_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> The lady’s-maid.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_13" id="Footnote_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> Otho’s youngest brother, who died an infant.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_14" id="Footnote_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> A tiny Memorial of Letitia, containing some of her verses.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_15" id="Footnote_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> The two chief interests of Otho Hamilton in his short life were—Natural -History, and Missions among the Heathen. This is doubtless in reference to the -latter.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_16" id="Footnote_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> Marriage of Miss Bella Frances Tucker to her cousin, the Rev. James Boswell.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_17" id="Footnote_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> Mr. St. George Tucker retired this year (1869) from the Indian Civil Service; -and his sister Fanny was at this time paying along visit to him and his wife.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_18" id="Footnote_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> Daughter of A. L. O. E.’s brother, Mr. William Tucker.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_19" id="Footnote_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> Father and Mother of Mrs. St. G. Tucker.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_20" id="Footnote_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> As a curious instance of differing views, another relative, who perhaps had -had even better opportunities for judging, says: ‘<em>Not</em> sympathizing; most kind, -but could not place herself in the position of another.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_21" id="Footnote_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> One of the Zenana Missionaries at Amritsar.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_22" id="Footnote_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> Doubtless covered with snow.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_23" id="Footnote_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> In a letter of Mrs. H. B. Stowe is the following passage, referring to Niagara:—‘I -felt as if I could have gone over with the waters: it would be so beautiful a -death: there would be no fear in it.’—<cite>Life of H. B. Stowe</cite>, p. 75, pub. 1889.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_24" id="Footnote_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> Missionary Ladies.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_25" id="Footnote_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> Show.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_26" id="Footnote_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> Honorary mode of address.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_27" id="Footnote_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> Pronounced <i>purdah</i>.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_28" id="Footnote_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> Pronounced <i>Punjāb</i>.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_29" id="Footnote_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> Pronounced <i>Umritsar</i>.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_30" id="Footnote_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> Her travelling companion from Bombay.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_31" id="Footnote_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> Considerable allowance here and elsewhere must be made for Miss Tucker’s -habit of seeing things as far as possible <i lang="fr">couleur-de-rose</i>. Large rooms in the -Indian climate are, moreover, not a mere luxury, but a necessity for health.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_32" id="Footnote_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> Teacher.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_33" id="Footnote_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> Pronounced <i>chuddars</i>.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_34" id="Footnote_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> The Rev. Robert Clark.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_35" id="Footnote_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> Mrs. Elmslie.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_36" id="Footnote_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> Teacher.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_37" id="Footnote_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> Sometimes she would take a week or ten days additional at some other season -in the year.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_38" id="Footnote_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> Many Missionaries live upon less than £155. See next page.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_39" id="Footnote_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> A pet name for Mrs. Elmslie.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_40" id="Footnote_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> Often spelt by English writers <i>doli</i>, <i>dooli</i>, or <i>dhooli</i>. Pronounced, <i>dooly</i>.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_41" id="Footnote_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> A learned Hindu. Pronounced, <i>pundit</i>.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_42" id="Footnote_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> Adopted nephew, the Rev. Rowland Bateman.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_43" id="Footnote_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> Miss Wauton.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_44" id="Footnote_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> Watchman.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_45" id="Footnote_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> Padri Sadiq, Native Clergyman.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_46" id="Footnote_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> German Missionary at Amritsar.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_47" id="Footnote_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> Native bedstead.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_48" id="Footnote_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> Tailor.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_49" id="Footnote_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> Queen.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_50" id="Footnote_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> Carrying things with a high hand.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_51" id="Footnote_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> Miss Swainson.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_52" id="Footnote_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> Mrs. Elmslie and Miss Wauton were away for a few weeks in the Hills with -Miss Swainson.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_53" id="Footnote_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> This was an early stage. <em>Now</em> the learned Pandit, K. S., is an Ordained -Clergyman.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_54" id="Footnote_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> ‘My brother.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_55" id="Footnote_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> Meaning ‘bud of a pomegranate.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_56" id="Footnote_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> A clockwork toy.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_57" id="Footnote_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> Connected with the Government.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_58" id="Footnote_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> Rough roads, unmade roads.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_59" id="Footnote_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> Duli-carrier.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_60" id="Footnote_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_60"><span class="label">[60]</span></a> Idle.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_61" id="Footnote_61"></a><a href="#FNanchor_61"><span class="label">[61]</span></a> Flat cakes of bread.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_62" id="Footnote_62"></a><a href="#FNanchor_62"><span class="label">[62]</span></a> Native song, or hymn set to Native tune.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_63" id="Footnote_63"></a><a href="#FNanchor_63"><span class="label">[63]</span></a> Divinities.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_64" id="Footnote_64"></a><a href="#FNanchor_64"><span class="label">[64]</span></a> A kind of post-chaise.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_65" id="Footnote_65"></a><a href="#FNanchor_65"><span class="label">[65]</span></a> Bananas.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_66" id="Footnote_66"></a><a href="#FNanchor_66"><span class="label">[66]</span></a> This, unhappily, proved later to be a mistaken estimate.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_67" id="Footnote_67"></a><a href="#FNanchor_67"><span class="label">[67]</span></a> The Catechist.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_68" id="Footnote_68"></a><a href="#FNanchor_68"><span class="label">[68]</span></a> The Rev. Rowland Bateman, just recovered from severe illness.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_69" id="Footnote_69"></a><a href="#FNanchor_69"><span class="label">[69]</span></a> Cream-coloured dress worn at a Conference.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_70" id="Footnote_70"></a><a href="#FNanchor_70"><span class="label">[70]</span></a> Precipice or ravine.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_71" id="Footnote_71"></a><a href="#FNanchor_71"><span class="label">[71]</span></a> Founder of the Sikh religion.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_72" id="Footnote_72"></a><a href="#FNanchor_72"><span class="label">[72]</span></a> Miss Tucker in this letter ascribes the said change to the work of others; but -there can be no doubt that her own influence had largely contributed to bring it -about.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_73" id="Footnote_73"></a><a href="#FNanchor_73"><span class="label">[73]</span></a> Mrs. Elmslie was going home on furlough.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_74" id="Footnote_74"></a><a href="#FNanchor_74"><span class="label">[74]</span></a> Mr. Bateman, Mr. Wade, Mr. Weitbrecht, Mr. Baring....</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_75" id="Footnote_75"></a><a href="#FNanchor_75"><span class="label">[75]</span></a> Adopted son of the Rev. Robert Clark; afterwards known as Dr. H. M. -Clark....</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_76" id="Footnote_76"></a><a href="#FNanchor_76"><span class="label">[76]</span></a> Lentils.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_77" id="Footnote_77"></a><a href="#FNanchor_77"><span class="label">[77]</span></a> Bishop French.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_78" id="Footnote_78"></a><a href="#FNanchor_78"><span class="label">[78]</span></a> ‘My Nephew’; term constantly used by A. L. O. E. for Mr. Baring.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_79" id="Footnote_79"></a><a href="#FNanchor_79"><span class="label">[79]</span></a> President of the Zenana Society.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_80" id="Footnote_80"></a><a href="#FNanchor_80"><span class="label">[80]</span></a> Grove of mango trees.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_81" id="Footnote_81"></a><a href="#FNanchor_81"><span class="label">[81]</span></a> Not always perfect security. Instances have occurred, though seldom, of -Missionaries themselves being attacked and roughly handled on such occasions.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_82" id="Footnote_82"></a><a href="#FNanchor_82"><span class="label">[82]</span></a> Pronounced <i>Grunt</i>.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_83" id="Footnote_83"></a><a href="#FNanchor_83"><span class="label">[83]</span></a> Teacher.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_84" id="Footnote_84"></a><a href="#FNanchor_84"><span class="label">[84]</span></a> Bibi Singha.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_85" id="Footnote_85"></a><a href="#FNanchor_85"><span class="label">[85]</span></a> Muhammadan teachers.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_86" id="Footnote_86"></a><a href="#FNanchor_86"><span class="label">[86]</span></a> Not <em>all</em> actually Batala converts; some having come from Amritsar, in connection -with the school, etc.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_87" id="Footnote_87"></a><a href="#FNanchor_87"><span class="label">[87]</span></a> Threatened war with Afghanistan.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_88" id="Footnote_88"></a><a href="#FNanchor_88"><span class="label">[88]</span></a> Though I speak in the past tense, the same terms apply to the present.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_89" id="Footnote_89"></a><a href="#FNanchor_89"><span class="label">[89]</span></a> Cotton mats.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_90" id="Footnote_90"></a><a href="#FNanchor_90"><span class="label">[90]</span></a> Early breakfast.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_91" id="Footnote_91"></a><a href="#FNanchor_91"><span class="label">[91]</span></a> Idle.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_92" id="Footnote_92"></a><a href="#FNanchor_92"><span class="label">[92]</span></a> Hats.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_93" id="Footnote_93"></a><a href="#FNanchor_93"><span class="label">[93]</span></a> Marylebone.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_94" id="Footnote_94"></a><a href="#FNanchor_94"><span class="label">[94]</span></a> Native Bible-woman.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_95" id="Footnote_95"></a><a href="#FNanchor_95"><span class="label">[95]</span></a> Custom.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_96" id="Footnote_96"></a><a href="#FNanchor_96"><span class="label">[96]</span></a> The Bishop of Calcutta and the Bishop of Lahore.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_97" id="Footnote_97"></a><a href="#FNanchor_97"><span class="label">[97]</span></a> Mrs. Hamilton’s house.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_98" id="Footnote_98"></a><a href="#FNanchor_98"><span class="label">[98]</span></a> Native official.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_99" id="Footnote_99"></a><a href="#FNanchor_99"><span class="label">[99]</span></a> Very low caste.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_100" id="Footnote_100"></a><a href="#FNanchor_100"><span class="label">[100]</span></a> Water-carrier.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_101" id="Footnote_101"></a><a href="#FNanchor_101"><span class="label">[101]</span></a> Watchman.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_102" id="Footnote_102"></a><a href="#FNanchor_102"><span class="label">[102]</span></a> Washerman.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_103" id="Footnote_103"></a><a href="#FNanchor_103"><span class="label">[103]</span></a> One of the boys.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_104" id="Footnote_104"></a><a href="#FNanchor_104"><span class="label">[104]</span></a> This particular Faqir, Miss Tucker meant.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_105" id="Footnote_105"></a><a href="#FNanchor_105"><span class="label">[105]</span></a> Some Native ladies.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_106" id="Footnote_106"></a><a href="#FNanchor_106"><span class="label">[106]</span></a> Mrs. Hamilton’s gift.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_107" id="Footnote_107"></a><a href="#FNanchor_107"><span class="label">[107]</span></a> A Native clergyman.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_108" id="Footnote_108"></a><a href="#FNanchor_108"><span class="label">[108]</span></a> Sir Charles Aitcheson, the Lieutenant-Governor.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_109" id="Footnote_109"></a><a href="#FNanchor_109"><span class="label">[109]</span></a> Naughty ones.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_110" id="Footnote_110"></a><a href="#FNanchor_110"><span class="label">[110]</span></a> A young Native.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_111" id="Footnote_111"></a><a href="#FNanchor_111"><span class="label">[111]</span></a> A leading Salvationist.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_112" id="Footnote_112"></a><a href="#FNanchor_112"><span class="label">[112]</span></a> Sect of Muhammadans.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_113" id="Footnote_113"></a><a href="#FNanchor_113"><span class="label">[113]</span></a> Advice to her sister to enter habitually, without delay, upon the subject of -religion with Indians.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_114" id="Footnote_114"></a><a href="#FNanchor_114"><span class="label">[114]</span></a> Miss Swainson.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_115" id="Footnote_115"></a><a href="#FNanchor_115"><span class="label">[115]</span></a> A young Indian Convert in England.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_116" id="Footnote_116"></a><a href="#FNanchor_116"><span class="label">[116]</span></a> Country people.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_117" id="Footnote_117"></a><a href="#FNanchor_117"><span class="label">[117]</span></a> This is a mistake. She was thirty-one.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_118" id="Footnote_118"></a><a href="#FNanchor_118"><span class="label">[118]</span></a> A very untruthful woman.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_119" id="Footnote_119"></a><a href="#FNanchor_119"><span class="label">[119]</span></a> The father of Mrs. St. George Tucker.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_120" id="Footnote_120"></a><a href="#FNanchor_120"><span class="label">[120]</span></a> Dr. H. M. Clark.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_121" id="Footnote_121"></a><a href="#FNanchor_121"><span class="label">[121]</span></a> Bishop Matthews.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_122" id="Footnote_122"></a><a href="#FNanchor_122"><span class="label">[122]</span></a> Pedlar.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_123" id="Footnote_123"></a><a href="#FNanchor_123"><span class="label">[123]</span></a> So named by the Natives.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_124" id="Footnote_124"></a><a href="#FNanchor_124"><span class="label">[124]</span></a> Not the same as spoken of in earlier part of this letter.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_125" id="Footnote_125"></a><a href="#FNanchor_125"><span class="label">[125]</span></a> More strictly, about one-twelfth of a penny.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_126" id="Footnote_126"></a><a href="#FNanchor_126"><span class="label">[126]</span></a> Miss Tucker had become by this time less strict in her earlier rule of never -walking in the city.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_127" id="Footnote_127"></a><a href="#FNanchor_127"><span class="label">[127]</span></a> Meaning, ‘Door closed against you.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_128" id="Footnote_128"></a><a href="#FNanchor_128"><span class="label">[128]</span></a> Old woman.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_129" id="Footnote_129"></a><a href="#FNanchor_129"><span class="label">[129]</span></a> True.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_130" id="Footnote_130"></a><a href="#FNanchor_130"><span class="label">[130]</span></a> <i>i.e.</i> Down in the Plains.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_131" id="Footnote_131"></a><a href="#FNanchor_131"><span class="label">[131]</span></a> It is not clear which of her severe illnesses is here referred to.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_132" id="Footnote_132"></a><a href="#FNanchor_132"><span class="label">[132]</span></a> The Rev. Nobin Chanda Das, for years Native Pastor at Batala, and Head-master -of the Mission ‘Plough’ School.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_133" id="Footnote_133"></a><a href="#FNanchor_133"><span class="label">[133]</span></a> Formerly ‘The Plough.’</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_134" id="Footnote_134"></a><a href="#FNanchor_134"><span class="label">[134]</span></a> Narowal, the Station of the Rev. R. Bateman.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_135" id="Footnote_135"></a><a href="#FNanchor_135"><span class="label">[135]</span></a> <cite>The Giant-Killer</cite>, by A. L. O. E.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_136" id="Footnote_136"></a><a href="#FNanchor_136"><span class="label">[136]</span></a> Deprecating; meaning something sad, something to be repented of.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_137" id="Footnote_137"></a><a href="#FNanchor_137"><span class="label">[137]</span></a> The sentence as to her tenth birthday, quoted page 13, comes in here.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_138" id="Footnote_138"></a><a href="#FNanchor_138"><span class="label">[138]</span></a> Mr. Bateman.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_139" id="Footnote_139"></a><a href="#FNanchor_139"><span class="label">[139]</span></a> Chiefs.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_140" id="Footnote_140"></a><a href="#FNanchor_140"><span class="label">[140]</span></a> Later, an adopted Nephew; see pp. 498-9.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_141" id="Footnote_141"></a><a href="#FNanchor_141"><span class="label">[141]</span></a> This was a mistake. Mrs. Hamilton passed away on October 14; but the -telegram was not sent for several days, to permit certain letters to arrive first. -Miss Tucker failed to allow for this fact.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_142" id="Footnote_142"></a><a href="#FNanchor_142"><span class="label">[142]</span></a> Missionary.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_143" id="Footnote_143"></a><a href="#FNanchor_143"><span class="label">[143]</span></a> At Amritsar.</p> - -</div> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_515" id="Page_515">[515]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="BOOKS">LIST OF PRINCIPAL BOOKS BY A. L. O. E.</h2> - -<p class="center">Published in England.</p> - -<table summary="Year; book, publisher, price"> - <tr> - <td></td> - <td></td> - <td><i>s.</i></td> - <td><i>d.</i></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1852.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Claremont Tales,</td> - <td>Gall & Inglis,</td> - <td class="tdr">1</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1853-56.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Glimpses of the Unseen,</td> - <td>Gall & Inglis,</td> - <td class="tdr">1</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>True Heroism,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Life of Luther,</td> - <td>Groom,</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Wings and Stings,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Adopted Son,</td> - <td>Gall & Inglis,</td> - <td class="tdr">1</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Giant-Killer,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Young Pilgrim,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">3</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Angus Tarlton,</td> - <td>Gall & Inglis,</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1857.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Daybreak in Britain,</td> - <td>Religious Tract Society,</td> - <td class="tdr">1</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Roby Family,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>History of a Needle,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">1</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Rambles of a Rat,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1858.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Flora,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">1</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Mine,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">1</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Old Friends with New Faces,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Precepts in Practice,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">3</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Futteypore,</td> - <td>S. P. C. K.</td> - <td></td> - <td></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Cottage by the Stream,</td> - <td>Gall & Inglis,</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - <td class="tdr">3</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Harry Dangerfield,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1859.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Idols in the Heart,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Whispering Unseen,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">3</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_516" id="Page_516">[516]</a></span>The Lost Jewel,</td> - <td>Shaw & Co.,</td> - <td class="tdr">3</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1860.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Pride and his Prisoners,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">3</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Gain and Loss,</td> - <td>Gall & Inglis,</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - <td class="tdr">3</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Parliament in the Playroom,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">1</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1861.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Illustrations of Parables,</td> - <td>Gall & Inglis,</td> - <td class="tdr">3</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Shepherd of Bethlehem,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">3</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>My Neighbour’s Shoes,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">1</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1862.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>War and Peace,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Light in the Robbers’ Cave,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Christian Love and Loyalty,</td> - <td>Gall & Inglis,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Christian Conquests,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">1</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1863.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Pretty Present for Pets,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">1</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Silver Casket,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Sketch of History of the Jews,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">1</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Crown of Success,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1864.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Exiles in Babylon,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">3</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Miracles of Heavenly Love,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">1</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Ned Franks,</td> - <td>Gall & Inglis,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1865.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Rescued from Egypt,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">3</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Fairy Know-a-Bit,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1866.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Wanderer in Africa,</td> - <td>Gall & Inglis,</td> - <td class="tdr">1</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Triumph over Midian,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1867.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Sheer Off,</td> - <td>Gall & Inglis,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Hymns and Poems,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>House Beautiful,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1868.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Living Jewels,</td> - <td>Hunt & Co.,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Castle of Carlmont,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>On the Way,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">3</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_517" id="Page_517">[517]</a></span>Hebrew Heroes,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">3</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1869.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Golden Fleece,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">1</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Claudia,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Braid of Cords,</td> - <td>Gall & Inglis,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1870.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Cyril Ashley,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">3</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Picture Story-Book,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1871.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Lady of Provence,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Children’s Tabernacle,</td> - <td>Shaw & Co.,</td> - <td class="tdr">3</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Wreath of Smoke,</td> - <td>Gall & Inglis,</td> - <td class="tdr">1</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Freedom,</td> - <td class="center">Do.</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1872.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>City of Nocross,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Silver Keys,</td> - <td>Gall & Inglis,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1874.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>An Eden in England,</td> - <td>Gall & Inglis,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Spanish Cavalier,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1875.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Haunted Room,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Every Cloud has a Silver Lining;<br />and five other Little Books,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,<br /><i>each</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><br />0</td> - <td class="tdr"><br />6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1879.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>A Wreath of Indian Stories,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1884.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The White Bear’s Den,</td> - <td>Gall & Inglis,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Pearls of Wisdom,</td> - <td>Morgan & Scott,</td> - <td class="tdr">3</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1885.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Harold Hartley,</td> - <td>Gall & Inglis,</td> - <td class="tdr">5</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1886.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Pictures of St. Peter,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">5</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1887.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Driven into Exile,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">3</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_518" id="Page_518">[518]</a></span>The Fairy in a Spider’s Web,</td> - <td>Gall & Inglis,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1888.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Hartley Brothers,</td> - <td>Gall & Inglis,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Harold’s Bride,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1889.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Beyond the Dark Waters,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">3</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1890.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Blacksmith of Boniface Lane,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">3</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1891.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Iron Chain and the Golden,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">2</td> - <td class="tdr">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="4">1892.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Forlorn Hope,</td> - <td>Nelson & Sons,</td> - <td class="tdr">3</td> - <td class="tdr">0</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"><i>N.B.</i>—The prices given may not be always correct.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_519" id="Page_519">[519]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="BOOKLETS">LIST OF SOME SMALL BOOKLETS BY A. L. O. E.</h2> - -<p class="center">Translated into Indian Languages, and published at very low prices.</p> - -<ul> -<li>Widows and the Bible.</li> -<li>The African Child.</li> -<li>The Fountain and the Cloud.</li> -<li>Let in the Daylight.</li> -<li>New Way of Eating Kelas (Plantains).</li> -<li>The Oldest Language of All.</li> -<li>The Rajah and his Servants.</li> -<li>The Rainbow.</li> -<li>The Brahmini Bull.</li> -<li>A Brahmin’s Story.</li> -<li>The Rebel.</li> -<li>Vessels of Gold.</li> -<li>The Bag of Treasure.</li> -<li>The Ploughshare.</li> -<li>The Intercessor.</li> -<li>Gift to the Caliph.</li> -<li>For Whom is This?</li> -<li>Story of Dr. Duff.</li> -<li>The Child Marriage.</li> -<li>The Flower of Young India.</li> -<li>Story of the Pink Chaddar.</li> -<li>The Precious Trust.</li> -<li>Trees to be Cut Down.</li> -<li>The Turban with a Border of Gold.</li> -<li>The Twice-Born.</li> -<li>Walayat Ali, the Martyr.</li> -<li>The Search after a Pearl.</li> -<li>Story of a Farmer.</li> -<li>Eight Pearls of Blessing.</li> -<li>Flowers and Fruits.</li> -<li>Gideon the Hero.</li> -<li>India’s People.</li> -<li>The Mirror and the Bracelet.</li> -<li>The Prophet and the Leper.</li> -<li>Spiritual and Physical Analogies.</li> -<li>Wreath of Stories.</li> -<li>The Two Pilgrims to Kashi; and Other Stories.</li> -<li>Jai Singh, the Brave Sikh; and Other Stories.</li> -<li>The Wonderful Medicine; and Other Stories.</li> -<li>Etc. etc.</li> -</ul> - -<p class="titlepage">Printed by T. and A. <span class="smcap">Constable</span>, Printers to Her Majesty<br /> -at the Edinburgh University Press</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Lady of England, by Agnes Giberne - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A LADY OF ENGLAND *** - -***** This file should be named 54218-h.htm or 54218-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/2/1/54218/ - -Produced by MWS and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from -images generously made available by The Internet -Archive/American Libraries.) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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