Some missionaries advocate the retention by Christian converts of such Hindu customs as are not directly connected with idolatry, especially in connection with marriage ceremonies. Others maintain that it is impossible really to distinguish between what is innocent and what is not, and that the only safe course is to come out altogether and be separate. The elaborate restrictions concerning food, given to the children of Israel, were apparently chiefly designed to prevent them from mixing socially with the idolatrous people with whom they were surrounded, lest they should drop back into any of the old evil ways. For the same reason it would seem necessary in India for the Christian convert to separate himself from everything which is in any way distinctive of Hinduism, quite apart from whether the thing itself is harmful or not. It is certain that lapses back to Hinduism have been most frequent amongst Christians of those Missions where the laxer view has prevailed.

An illustration somewhat to the point may be found in the case of the carpentry instructor in the Poona City Mission, who was a convert from Hinduism. He received the name of Bhumya at his baptism—his full name being Bhumya Virappa Chondikar. The second name was that of his father, which, according to Hindu custom, is always borne by the son, and the last was his family or surname. He did not improve his financial status by becoming a Christian. He was carpenter-master before, and continued to be so for many years afterwards. But his change of religion cut him off from any possibility of inheritance from Hindu relations, of whom he had several in rather prosperous circumstances. It also made such a ferment in his own household, where he had a wife and mother-in-law and little son, that he had to leave his home and lodge elsewhere so that he might not "pollute" them, as they would express it, by eating with them. Two years after his own baptism, however, he had the joy of seeing his wife and now two little children, baptized, and the home life was happily resumed. Eventually even his mother-in-law became a Christian.

But in spite of his own undoubted earnestness, his devout use of the sacraments, his constant attendance at all the services of the church, a sort of taint of Hinduism clung to him all through life and to some extent dimmed his Christian joy, and prevented his example, in many ways so edifying, from bearing the fruit that might otherwise have been the case. None of his numerous Hindu friends were led to Christianity through his influence, and none of his own relations followed his example, nor was it possible to use him much in evangelistic work, in spite of his readiness to help. He had a theory that Christianity had somehow been evolved out of Hinduism, and though even his intimate friends could never get to the bottom of his strange ideas, his preaching was sufficiently unorthodox to make it necessary that he should be a silent member of the preaching party in the streets of the city.

The retention of Hindu ideas which thus warped his Christian life, and prevented it from influencing his fellow-countrymen as it otherwise might have done, may partly be accounted for by the fact that he not only retained in every particular after his baptism the outward garb of a Hindu and wore no Christian symbol, but his partially shaved head, and rather long pigtail which he continued to wear, were so definitely the outward tokens of Hinduism that he was often taken for a Hindu, and several people at various times were startled to see a heathen man, as they thought, collecting the alms in church.

The chief moral value of Bhumya's life is to be found in the fact that, in spite of Hindu memories continuing to have some mysterious attraction for him, he was both in life and death unswerving and unshaken in his allegiance to Christianity.

Certainly a P. & O. steamer can no longer be described as a "white man's ship," as the young officer expressed it when he complained of the presence of Indians on board. The number of Easterns who go to Europe for educational and other purposes increases so rapidly that they now form a distinct element on many steamers. One autumn when coming to England, half the passengers in the second saloon were Easterns on their way westwards, chiefly for educational purposes, and travelling at that season in order to be in time for the classes and colleges, which begin their new course or term in October. We calculated that there were nearly twenty different languages being talked amongst us, and there were few phases of religion unrepresented.

In the first saloon were a few wealthy Indian lads on their way to English public schools, clad in the most approved English boys' dress, and nearly all these travellers were in full European costume, though a few retained the turban. Some of the combinations of colour in the shape of socks and ties were rather startling. But Indians quickly correct any mistakes of this kind after they have reached England, and have had time to observe what well-dressed people usually wear. Many of them were at first in great perplexity how to perform their ablutions in English baths, and the first morning or two they might be seen wandering about in the region of the baths with anxious faces. But they somehow found some solution to their difficulties, and ultimately distracted the man in charge of the baths by staying in long beyond the regulation ten minutes. "Too long," I heard the bathman say to one of these Indian gentlemen, who had been taking his bath in the leisurely fashion to which he had been accustomed in his own home. "Not too long," was the laconic reply.

The question of food is also a cause of great anxiety to some. "We are vegetarians," I heard one of them say to a ship's steward as he entered the saloon for his first meal, and the puzzled steward went off to consult his superiors as to what was to be done. But as the mere fact of crossing the seas to a foreign country constitutes a breach of caste, according to strict Hindu law, which will have to be atoned for on return, further breaches do not make much difference, and many of these travellers appear to enjoy their newly found liberty and eat freely all that is set before them, except that beef and pork are respectively avoided by Hindus and Mohammedans. Modern-minded Hindus even contend that to cross the seas does not break caste, and that their sacred writings support this view, and the matter has become the subject of long-drawn-out litigation by aggrieved Hindus who have been out-casted on their return from foreign travel.

One of the voyagers belonged to the Jain sect amongst the Hindus, who take the most elaborate precautions to avoid even the accidental destruction of the smallest animal life. He had been prudent enough to bring a Jain with him to act as his cook; but this man becoming completely incapacitated by sea-sickness, his employer had to fall back upon such stores of dry food as he had with him, until the cook recovered. Indians are not good sailors, and a very moderate sea sent most of them to the seclusion of their cabins.

This Jain was going to London to become a barrister. He told me that his sect believes in the immortality of God, the soul, and matter. Hence the two last are as indestructible as the first. The world, therefore, will always exist, and each soul will continue to be transmigrated for any number of ages until it gets absorbed into God. Not to lead an exemplary life involves the unpleasant risk of reappearing in some debased form, and also delays the realisation of the final absorption. Their particularity about the taking of life presumably arises from the possibility that if you destroy even the humblest insect it may be a relation who has unfortunately had to assume this form, and causes even eggs to be classed amongst forbidden articles, because they contain the germ of life.

Three brothers, Sikhs, kept in their little inside cabin almost all the voyage, with the door and ventilators generally closed, and seemed perfectly content, except when prostrated by sea-sickness. They took all their meals there, and they were heard imploring their steward to be careful not to bring them any "beef." The smallness and stuffiness of their cabin perhaps recalled pleasantly their Indian home. They talked and laughed the whole day, and would have certainly done so half the night, except that the English occupant of the next cabin called upon them at bedtime and suggested that having talked all day it might be well for the sake of others to devote the night to sleep, and they cheerfully and courteously accepted the hint. Now and then, if it was very fine and smooth, they came on deck, but held no intercourse with the other Indian passengers, and played cards most of the time. They wore European coats and shirts, the tails of the latter being worn outside according to Indian custom. Their legs were cased in the white breeches peculiar to their race, very baggy in the upper part, but fitting so close below that the problem of how they get into them remains a mystery. On their heads were immense and picturesque white turbans. It was touching to see the extent to which the elder brother was looked up to, with that delightful combination of affection and respect characteristic of this particular relationship in India. They were gentle, courteous people, and everybody liked them.

An Indian, who called himself a Parsee, but there was reason to think that he was really a Bengali Hindu, was on his way to Germany to learn Sanskrit. As India is its home, although it is no longer a spoken language, except that Sanskrit words are found in many vernaculars, it appeared strange that an Indian should be travelling westwards in order to learn an Eastern language. But he explained that the Indian Pundits, or teachers, though they know Sanskrit, have no knowledge of how to teach it, and with characteristic disregard for the value of time, spend at least six years in teaching what, with more rational methods, might be learnt in two. In Germany this Indian hoped to see the most up-to-date way of teaching languages, and then he proposed to return to India and introduce the modern system in the college of which he said he was professor of Sanskrit.

Passing alongside the Italian coast, he said to me: "I hope very much to see Italy before I return to my own country. I understand that the Italian cathedrals are very beautiful, and a cathedral always appeals to me very strongly. I should also like to see Assisi. The character of S. Francis has great charms for me." I said that, with ideas such as these, he ought to be a Christian. "Possibly," he replied; "I have the greatest veneration for Christ as the greatest among prophets." English-speaking Hindus, however, have a remarkable power of adapting their sentiments to their society. I overheard the same man contrasting, for the benefit of a young Egyptian, the way in which famine is dealt with in a native state and by the Government of India, by which it would appear that whereas the former did everything, the latter did nothing.

In the saloon the Indians naturally gathered to their own tables, but in fine weather they entered into the usual deck life of a liner, sat about in deck-chairs, made some show of reading, chiefly English light literature, made an attempt at the stereotyped deck games, played cards largely, and discovered that lemon-squash was a cooling drink, and those who could afford it went in for it often. They nearly all of them knew exactly where they were going to in London, and expected to be met by friends or relations already there. There are also many agencies and individuals who are ready to interest themselves in these young students, and to help them with advice and sympathy when they are willing to accept it. There are now quite a number of Indian houses in London where students lodge, and where they can arrange to have their food served in orthodox fashion. A few of these houses have at times become centres of mischief, and have had to be kept under observation.

The Indians on board lived very much in cliques, just as they do in their own country, and with few exceptions there was but little general interchange of ideas amongst themselves. Curiously enough, the connecting link was to be found in the English population on board, who mixed with them all good-humouredly. That it is possible for East and West to meet on equal terms, and to dine in the same room if not at the same table, and to get on happily in daily intercourse, was proved by the pleasant way in which, within the narrow limits of a ship's second-class quarters, everybody managed to pull together. It was also a satisfactory feature of this medley of races and religions that the only person for whom there was no place, and who finally got sent to Coventry, was an Englishwoman who professed to be a theosophist.