‘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.