One bright Sunday forenoon, three of us were coming from Bali to worship at Mr. Dall’s chapel, and a conversation took place upon the future welfare of Unitarian missions in India. Our valued friend, Baboo C. C. Singha, suggested that it would be a grand thing for the mission if some of us who are so closely connected with the mission would go to visit the brethren in America, tell them of our needs, offer thanks in our behalf for the blessing they have sent in the person of Mr. Dall, and bring home their help and sympathy. As for himself, he said he could do this errand elegantly, were it not for his wife and children and his school. I responded to his suggestion, and informed him of my desire,--that this very thing had been the all-engrossing subject in my mind. There was a young man, a native Christian, who wished to join me, and thus we reached the chapel, making suggestions, discussions, and resolutions on our way. After the service, Chundy Baboo spoke to Mr. Dall about our wish to visit the American brethren. He approved of it, looked at us with a kind heart, and gave us encouragement. There was present with us a gentleman, Mr. J. M. Hurd, of Clinton, Mass., who promised to report us to the brethren at home, and to ask the American Unitarian Association to respond to our wishes. A few months passed away. Advices from Mr. Dall came to our friend C. C. Singha, Esq., and he asked us if we were ready, and firm in our position. I told him that I was firm but not quite ready to take a decided step, as the circumstances under which I lived were against my plan. The love for my mother was the crowning obstacle. In India I never could spend three nights without my mother. From the houses of my sisters I would come home not caring for rain or storm. Again, I was very particular about taking my meals among strangers: hardly could I make my dinner unless my mother was sitting by me. I was shy, homesick, and unhealthy. One thing frightened me more than others,--it was the food of the American people. They eat animal food, for which I was not prepared, although I had no prejudice against it. My taste is peculiar and sensitive. To eat “rare” beef (which in fact is raw) is out of the question. I could not bear the flavor of duck’s eggs, which some Hindoos use. Indeed, the charge which the Hindoos bring against the native Christians, to the effect that they become Christians for the purpose of eating beef and drinking wine, would not be justly applicable in my case. For owing to my peculiar taste and fastidiousness about food and drink, I can say, that during my two years’ stay in America, I have not eaten as much animal food as the Calcutta deists use in a fortnight. I have always been unable to eat custard, which I am fond of, and plumpudding, if they are mixed with wine,--not for any superstitious hatred against it, but I could not bear its smell, which, however concealed under other ingredients, is sure to encounter the acuteness of my senses.