We met with varied reception. In some places the people were so stolid, that even the catechist, one of their own people, seemed to make no impression. On many occasions we were heard most patiently, and were treated most courteously. Now and then, especially in the larger places, and where markets were being held—these are held weekly in central places, sometimes twice a week, and are well attended—there was much noise and great interruption. At times we encountered strong, bitter, and captious opposition. On the whole we met with far less opposition, and with a much more patient and respectful hearing, than at our stated work in a city like Benares. Often we were thanked for our visit, and were told our teaching well deserved consideration. Not infrequently the remark was made, "What you say is very good, but we never heard it before; we understand it very imperfectly, you will be leaving to-morrow, and we shall forget it all." We parted with such persons with a heavy heart. We always halted on the Lord's Day, and often on other days, when we met with encouragement and circumstances permitted.
AN ANCIENT CAPITAL.
Kunauj, now a poor, decayed town, composed chiefly of low mud-built houses, with not one fine building in it so far as I remember, was, as I have already mentioned, for ages the most famous city in Northern India, the capital of sovereigns ruling over extensive regions. The Brahmans of Kunauj continue to hold the highest rank in the Brahmanical hierarchy, but I believe only a few reside in Kunauj and its neighbourhood. As we learned it was only a few miles off the Trunk Road, we determined to halt a day for the purpose of visiting it. We accordingly went to it one morning, and remained in it some time, looking at the mounds which cover the ruins of its palaces, and which is all that remains to tell of its former greatness. A number gathered around us, with whom we conversed. They seemed so much interested in what we said about the Saviour, that we promised to visit them on our return. We accordingly arranged to remain a Sabbath at the part of the Trunk Road nearest to Kunauj. Reaching it on a Saturday we sent on a small tent, and early next day, accompanied by the catechist, I made my way to the town. There we remained the entire day, and I have seldom had such a day of pleasant toil. The people came in crowds, and talk on the highest subjects was kept up from hour to hour. The catechist, after a time, left me to visit some persons he knew in the neighbourhood, and I was left alone to unfold the doctrines of Christianity, and to answer the questions put to me. I more than once said, "I must have rest." All went out, and I lay down on a piece of carpet on the floor of the tent. Some one soon peeped in; "Have you not had rest now, sir?" and so I had to get up and resume my work, not over well-pleased the catechist had left it all to me. Since that time Kunauj has had visits from missionaries, and they have had many hearers, but I have not heard of any fruit gathered from these visits in the form of converts.
AN EARNEST INQUIRER.
I was greatly impressed with one visit I received on this tour. We had got over our morning journey. I was, I suppose, more tired than usual, for in the forenoon I lay down on our travelling bedstead to rest. I heard a voice at the tent door, "Sahib, sahib!"—"Sir, sir!"—and I said, "Come in." In came a native well dressed, and looking as if tired with a long walk. I told him to sit down on the carpet, which he did, and he then proceeded to tell me the object of his visit. He said in substance: "Last night you were in a village twelve miles from this place, and you there spoke much of an incarnation, an 'autar,' which had for its object the deliverance of man from the power and punishment of sin. One who heard you last night told me something of what you had said. I have long been a worshipper of the gods of my fathers, but I have got no rest, no satisfaction. I have heard much of incarnations, but I know of no sinless one. Not one of them has done me any good. Have you certain information of one that can deliver me and satisfy me?" I need not say what I said in reply to this great inquiry. We talked long and earnestly. I found he could read, and I gave him a Gospel and some tracts. He professed to be much interested. I begged him to give me his address that I might communicate with him. He did not pointedly refuse, but no address was given to me, apparently from the fear, so common among the people, of the reproach and suffering which will come upon them if they be suspected of an intention to abandon their ancestral religion. I parted with the man praying, that he might be led to the Saviour. Often, often have I thought of him; often have I hoped that what was said that forenoon had sunk into his heart; but I have never seen him, never heard of him, since that time.
I have mentioned that early in 1847 we went to Almora, in the Hill Province of Kumaon, and towards the end of the year returned to Benares. Before our departure we had the pleasure of seeing the completion of a work which had made a great demand on our time and attention, and had caused us no small anxiety—the erection of a new place of worship in the Grecian style, in the place of the small mud building in which we had hitherto met. This was our first essay in building, and our inexperience led us into many mistakes, which we tried to avoid in future work of the kind. The building cost above £1,200, fully twice the sum we had calculated. Through the liberality of friends its entire cost was met within six months of its opening, and it has proved of great service to the Mission. The opening services were conducted in Hindustanee and English. The late Rev. J. A. Shurman preached with great power in Hindustanee to a crowded congregation composed of Christians, Hindus, and Muhammadans, and I preached in English to a large European congregation. We were greatly encouraged by the liberal collections made at these services.
SLOW TRAVELLING.
I must defer to a later period of this work what I have to say about Kumaon, to which we paid several visits, and where we spent the last years of our Indian life. Our journeying to and from Kumaon in 1847 was partly over the ground traversed on our trip to Agra in 1842-43, and partly over new ground, as one may see by looking at the map of Northern India. The conditions of the journey were to a large extent those I have already described; but we suffered from bad roads, from our camp equipage falling behind, and I may add from inefficient service, much more than we had formerly done. On reaching Almora we mentioned to a friend the route we had taken, and he said, "Surely you have not come in a wheeled conveyance, for I am told that road is impassable." I told him the road was passable, for we had passed it, but if we had previously known what it was we should not have attempted it. Amidst the tracks we saw, we often had difficulty in deciding which was the road. Between unbridged streams with high banks, ditches, and deep ruts which caught our wheels and would not let them go, our progress was much impeded; but we toiled on. At one place we were happily helped by a company of Sepoys, whose medical officer was a dear Christian friend. In other places we were extricated by the help of villagers.
As we journeyed in these circumstances we were not in a mood to be amused, but I was amused one day by the contrast between a romantic lady and an unromantic "sais" (anglicè, groom). The Hills had come grandly into view, but unhappily we were fast in a ditch. The lady looking to the "sais" said, "Sais, do you not see the hills?" To which he most dolefully replied, not lifting his eyes as he spoke, "Madam, what can I see? We are stuck in the mud."
One day we took full ten hours to go twelve miles. When we came to the end of our stage we found we had to encamp for the night in the low scrub of the forest, with stagnant water all around us. There was a hut at the place with two native policemen to help travellers, and we were told by them that there had been for some days in the neighbourhood what is called "a rogue elephant"—an elephant which, for some reason known only in elephant councils has been driven out of the herd, and is so enraged by his expulsion that he is ready to run amuck at every person and animal he sees. This was not pleasant intelligence. We found native carts at the place, ready to proceed in the morning to a market to be held at the foot of the hills; and after a very uncomfortable night, much disturbed by the cries of the beasts of the wilderness, we set out, the people shouting to scare the elephant, which, though ready for mischief, is frightened by noise. We saw no trace of him. When the day was well advanced we reached a rest-house close to the hills, with a brawling stream behind it, with which our children as well as ourselves were delighted, one of them clapping his hands and saying, "Water clear and bright!" We had our first and rather perilous hill journey the next day, but my account of it and subsequent journeys in the mountains must be reserved for another time.