‘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.’