‘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.’