In passing through Bombay, just before our departure from India, I called on Mr. Ackworth, the Municipal Commissioner, who has the interests of lepers at heart, and who by dint of much earnest endeavour succeeded in raising Rs. 75,000 for the erection of a Leper Home at Matoonga, near Bombay. In this institution, which is admirably conducted in every way, I saw 210 native male and female lepers. There were no Europeans. Mr. Ackworth informed me that if European lepers presented themselves for admittance at the Home, separate buildings would be erected for them, and their comfort studied as far as possible. I found all the wards well ventilated, and, although there were 210 lepers in the buildings, no unpleasant odours were discernible above the smell of the disinfectants employed. The native women lepers have two female nurses to attend on them, and there is also a competent staff of men to dress and assist the inmates of the male ward. A regular staff of doctors, under the supervision of Doctor Weir, attend the lepers, and a resident surgeon is always on the spot. The Matoonga Asylum is about five miles out of Bombay, and is hidden from the high road by trees and foliage. Mr. Ackworth is having flowers planted in the gardens, with a view of interesting his patients in gardening as a pastime. The lepers in this institution are not allowed to return to their old occupation of begging in the streets. They are told, on entering, that they will never be allowed to go out. Mr. Ackworth possesses no legal power of detention over these lepers, but in order to make them believe otherwise, has discovered an old municipal law which is sufficiently elastic to enable him to use it in clearing the streets and crowded slums of Bombay of lepers and persons suffering from an infectious or contagious disease. On the occasion of my visit, Dr. Weir and Dr. Charles accompanied Mr. Ackworth and myself, and we made the tour of inspection together. I noticed several Catholic rosaries hanging up near the beds of the lepers and found, on inquiry, that these sufferers were regularly visited by their priest. I asked Mr. Ackworth if any of our Protestant clergymen had visited the lepers, and he told me that although one had clamoured to have his name put on the Committee of the Institution, and had got this done; he had never visited its inmates or seemed to trouble himself any further about them! While we were talking, a native leper was led out of one of the male wards by an attendant. He sunk down near the building in a state of great exhaustion, and called out, in his own language, some words which Dr. Weir told me were to the effect that he was dying, and that he begged us to save him. Poor man! he knew that these gentlemen had been kind to him in giving him a home, in binding up his sores, and in relieving his sufferings by all that medical skill could accomplish; so I suppose he thought that men so mighty as these sahibs were; could stay the hand of death, if they so willed. He had accordingly persuaded one of the ward boys to lead him into the presence of his benefactors in order that they might see his misery. He was lifted with difficulty back again into the ward and placed on his bed; for he had craved what no mortal man could possibly give him—life. The rays of the setting sun fell on his face, which showed a piteous expression of misery and despair. I turned away and gazed around at the glorious light of the sun on the sea in the distance—a beautiful blue sea on which numbers of boats with their white sails unfurled were gliding peacefully to and fro—and then on the white tombstones by the hillside denoting the resting place of a few stragglers who have gone before; when Mr. Ackworth reminded me that the shadows were lengthening, and that we should have to start on our drive back. After inspecting the kitchen, surgery and store-rooms, all of which are models in their way, we waved adieu to the many lepers who had congregated to give us their parting salaams and drove away to Bombay. I thought of poor Daisy, Bridget, Bella, the Jewess, and of the male lepers huddled together in that pestilent Calcutta Asylum, and wished I could have transferred them to the kindly charge of Mr. Ackworth and Dr. Weir. As we drove along, Dr. Charles told me that he was about to sail for London on the following day, adding that we ought to try and help Mr. Ackworth in obtaining funds for carrying on his institution. Government allows Rs. 1,000, I think, monthly towards defraying expenses, but Mr. Ackworth wished to enlarge the buildings, as many more lepers were asking for admittance, and funds are needed. Dr. Charles entered heartily into my scheme of providing comforts for the European and Eurasian lepers, and gave it as his opinion that our own people are terribly neglected in India, where almost everything that is done by public charity is for the sole and exclusive benefit of Natives. He promised to do his utmost to help me and my cause if he met me in England, as he considered that it was the duty of every Englishman and woman to assist the sick and suffering of their own country wherever and whenever they could do so.

In Bombay there is a club exclusively for ladies called the “Sorosis,” which is presided over by Dr. E. B. Ryder, an American lady with a kind heart, a clear head, and a great love for all the members of her own sex. She received me most kindly when I called on her. She seemed so interested in my work among the Calcutta lepers, that I sent her a portion of this book in manuscript to read. On the following day she called to ask me if I would go to the Sorosis Club and tell the ladies, about twenty in number, who would be assembled there to meet me, of my work among the lepers. I had a most attentive and sympathetic audience of kind-hearted ladies on this occasion, all of whom shed tears when I told them of the grateful kindness of the poor lepers to me, and of their sad and lonely life. One lady took the address of Archdeacon Michell, and promised to try and send some money for my friends, and so keep in touch with them. Dr. Ryder said that if I were to lecture in England on their behalf, I would get money; and that I carried my audience with my earnestness in telling my story. I need hardly say that I would be only too happy to take her hint, if I could work it out effectively.

Dr. Ryder and the kind-hearted ladies of the Sorosis Club, in wishing me good-bye, expressed a desire that copies of this book should be sent to them as soon as it was published, and heartily wished me “God speed” in my work. It was very soothing to my feelings to receive kindness and offers of help in work for which I had suffered so many rebuffs. When I embarked on board the SS. Calabria, which was to take us home, I felt that with their kind words in my ears I could sit down and work at my book with renewed vigour, feeling sure that women as kind and sympathetic as my Bombay friends, would read it with interest in England, and that perhaps something might be done for my poor leper friends in Calcutta. When we reached Aden I posted a long letter to Daisy, telling her of what I was doing, and promising to send them something from London. I asked her to cause my letter to be read to Ramey, and the other male lepers, and promised to keep her posted up from time to time in anything that might be of interest to them.

Just as this book is going to press, I have received a letter from Mrs. Grant, who tells me that all the European and Eurasian inmates of the Calcutta Leper Asylum are much in the same way as when I left them, except Ramey, who is very ill, and is not expected to live long. I deeply regret to hear that Mrs. Smith died suddenly of heart disease. The poor lepers lost a kind friend in her. Mrs. Grant is working bravely in this good cause, and has stimulated interest in these helpless sufferers.