‘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.’