CHAPTER III.

First Views of Christianity.—Prejudices.—Sermon on the Mount.—New Testament.—Efforts and Struggles.—Comparison of Hindoo and Christian Doctrines.—Conversion.—First Zeal.—Perplexed by the Trinity.—Visit to a Missionary.—Trinitarianism.—My Difficulties.—Deistical Companions.—Arrival of Mr. Dall.

Now begins an important stage in my life. The dawn of a bright future breaks upon me with a serenity never before dreamed of. My Heavenly Father, not willing that his child should go away from him and remain ignorant of his gracious majesty, turned my course slowly toward his infinite goodness. He could no longer suffer his child to prostrate himself before “wood and stone,” and He sent His “Beloved Son” to teach him and bring him to his “Father’s Home.” While much occupied in observing the religious ordinances of my people, while summoning all my energies for the cause of the idols, and offering all the treasures of my heart and head at their feet, I heard of the celebrated Christian Missionary, Rev. Dr. Duff of Calcutta, and his colleagues, making converts of the Hindoo boys. My animosity towards Christianity rose with all its fury, and I wished to see it die out, that it might not rob the peace and prosperity of the Hindoo families, by stealing away the young boys and leading them headlong into vice, immorality, and misery. For the Hindoo’s impression ofChristianity is this: That in order to become a Christian it is essentially necessary that a young man should treat his parents unkindly, eat animal food, such as beef, pork, ham, etc., which the Hindoos detest very much, drink wine, not wash his mouth after the meal, as the animals do, and forsake all things which bear the name of Hindoo, no matter how beautiful they are. Now, if these are the essential features of Christianity, why should I have wondered that the Hindoos fear it? But thanks be to God thatthese are notparts of the religion of Christ; these have little or nothing to do with it. Again, the Hindoo hatred towards Christianity arises from another important cause; viz., that the lives of most of its nominal advocates contradict its spirit. No nation is so furious, proud, bloodthirsty as a Christian one. No country, I presume, is flooded so often with human blood, as that which is studded with “meeting-houses,” which publish the Gospel of Peace by myriads, annually, of different editions, versions, and illustrations. The gentlemen, the senators of Christian countries, impelled by animal passions, fight duels, and thereby abuse the precious gift of God, the life. These are the men who declare themselves disciples of Christ, who own pews in the church, whose wives and daughters are Sunday-school teachers. “But whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also,” is a precept of their Teacher. My dear mother would point me out the ambitious deeds of the English people, saying, “There, Joguth, do not you speak of the religion of Shahebs to me; put it on the shelf yonder; they have no religion at all! What! what did you say, ‘And if any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also!’ Very beautiful words, indeed! O Joguth, what do the Shahebs do? Do they care a fig for them? No!Their religion is ‘to rob those who have nothing to do with them.’ Poor Runjit Serigh, the Queen of Nagpoor! I pity them; they fell victims to the ambition of your Christian Shahebs. How I should like to see their Queen, and tell her, ‘Shame to your subjects! They fight, they quarrel, they rob our country. You do not know what they do out of your sight. When they go abroad they forget the instruction of home,’” etc.

Having had a fear, and hatred, too, towards Christianity, I determined to investigate its true peculiarities,—which I felt quite sure must be childish and fallacious,—that I might be qualified to argue with the Christians and triumphantly expose their errors. Some Christian books were necessary, but how should I get them? I was too timid to go to the missionaries; first, I could not speak English; and, secondly, I feared them to be the “boy thieves,” as the Hindoos designate them. On a holiday I saw low castes carrying home a quantity of “Tracts” given to them by the servants of Christ. I managed to secure a copy which contained that portion of Christ’s teaching known by the name of the “Sermon on the Mount.” Need I tell to a Christian reader the sublime beauty of these words ofLife? I should say, however, that I was quite disappointed in not finding fallacious, weak, foolish doctrines in it as I anticipated. Its pages opened heaven before me, and I could see distinctly its joys, its angels, and its blessedness. I could see also theearth, not like one around us, in which the life and its attendant functions have been manufactured by our own hands, but one fresh from the hand of the Most High,—a pure, simple, loving world! Over and over I read the tract, and wished to get some more. A few tracts which I subsequently received contained a great deal of the teaching of men, and less of His who had studied histheology in the bosom of the Father, and who said, “My words are not my own; what I have heard of my Father, that speak I to you.”

Reading the first tract, containing the “Sermon on the Mount,” carefully, I became so familiar with Christ’s voice, that I could recognize him from out the crowd. “Sheep know the voice of their shepherd,” he says. I was told that a book called “Holy Bible” contains the life of Jesus in full, and I longed to have a copy of it. As there was no Bible in the house, I had some difficulty in procuring a copy for some time. Providentially a Brahmun boy had brought some pamphlets and a book to me, and begged me to make some kites for him with their leaves. To my unspeakable joy the book proved to be the long-sought one,—the life of Christ, by four evangelists,—the New Testament! I made some kites with my own writing-paper, and the lad gave me his blue book in turn. Now begins a period of investigation, study, contemplation, of the teaching of Christ. Among others, his kind words, inviting the poor, the suffering, the despised, to come unto him,—“Come unto me all ye that labor, and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest,”—struck me very much. I was the worshipper of several male and female deities, and some of them were my beloved ones; but none called me in such a loving, affectionate way. His saying, “Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly of heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls; for my yoke is easy, and my burden is light,” furnished me with ample materials for meditation. Who is this, I asked, that promises us “rest,” without demanding any compensation, as the Hindoo gods do? Carefully I followed Christ in all his walks, listened to him while he was on the mountain, saw him cure sickness and cast out devils, heard him bid the rough sea “be still,” watched himat his table in the upper chamber, witnessed his arrest, trial, and crucifixion, and his victory over death. With a view of comparing Christianity with the modern Hindooism I took some leading points of each. First, the Creator of the universe, who is he? what relation is there between him and his creatures? where can he be found, and how worshipped? etc. The belief of the Hindoos in regard to these subjects differs in accordance with their caste, culture, and opportunities. The learned Brahmuns derive their belief from the Sacred Vedas; others from tradition; and the low castes have no knowledge of them, perhaps, or the little they have is ridiculous. Christ tells us our Creator is a Great Being,—God,—and that he is One. I received the doctrine, as it confirmed beautifully my impression of a Creator. I had this consciousness from my early years, but did not know who that Being was, for Bromho is said to be the Maker of all, but he too rises from the Bishto. Leaving aside the speculative theory of my country, I found relief in the simple yet truthful words of Christ.

The Hindoos bear different relations to their gods. This seemed to me absurd. For instance, Shiba is called “Father,” his wife Doorga, mother, his two daughters are our mother too, who, according to the common rules, ought to be our sisters. Krishto is addressed by the termFatheralso. Now the great Teacher says we have only one Father in heaven, even God. When I learned of Christ that my Creator isonegreat Being, and though his majesty is infinite, his wisdom unfathomable, his power unbounded, his position high, he is our Father still, my joy knew no bounds. I became aware that my recognition of a creator in the Bromho, Bishto, etc., was just as bewildering as to seek an object in the gloomy chambers of Mammoth Cave. But Christ stood by my side as a blazing light, and pointed outthe shortest, easiest way to my God, saying, “I am the light” and “I am the way.” I used to think we could come to God through different routes, but now felt convinced of the great advantage of entering in by the strait gate, treading the steps of Christ, and following the guidance of the celestial Guide. When I want to visit the city of New York, the prudent course will be to take the express train at the Worcester Depot, and not step into the Boston, Concord, and Montreal cars which will surely take me far, far away from my destination; it will cost more money and longer time into the bargain![30]

Where our Creator is to be found and how worshipped became the subject of my inquiry. Hindoo gods have their respective heavens, some particular places for their abodes, which they do not wish to be away from. Thus Krishto reigns in his Goluck, Shiba in Koylas, etc. The latter is said to have wept on leaving Kashie for a season at the solicitation of Debodass, a worshipper.

But turning to Christ, I heard him say, our Father is everywhere,—fills immensity with his presence; that there is no place so high, so happy as to monopolize his presence, to confine him within its enclosure; there is no place, on the other hand, so low that does not contain him. The Mighty Omnipresent sits on high, the great King of all, controlling the affairs of the universe with his powerful, yet lovingsway,—receiving homage from the Seraphim and Cherubim, and the “just made perfect;” yet, at the same time, noticing the fall of the sparrows.

In regard to worship, I was taught to worship the images of the gods, to offer food and clothing to them, and occasionally to visit the sacred cities, such as Orissa,[31]or Benares, etc. But Christ taught me otherwise. He says, “neither this mountain, nor Jerusalem,” is to be the favored place for worshipping God; “Worship him in the Spirit, for he is a Spirit.” This seemed to me a beautiful idea, for it enables high as well as low to worship the Creator,—to hold communion with him,—to lay before him all their joys, sorrows, and disappointments, instead of going after him in Jerusalem or Benares. Again, what a great consolation it is to know that a pure and contrite heart, with all its poverty and meekness, is more acceptable to God than the richest offering, than temples of gold! How many thousands of the Hindoos live and die in despair of that degree of spiritual perfection, that peculiar blessing of the gods, which a few hundred dollars would have secured for them! The poor man, notwithstanding all his righteousness, the purity of his heart, and his love for holy things, is not entitled to share the joys of heaven with the rich wicked man, who has spent enormous sums of money in visiting temples, in pilgrimages, or in worshipping costly images. This is the absurd belief I had in regard to the worship of the gods, and I thanked God heartily when I got rid of it. Secondly, I wished to know aboutman: my relation and duties towards other men, etc. The theory that man is our brother, being the child of a common Father, has been falsified by the systemof thecastes, and by the power and sanctity of the priesthood. A low-caste man is no more a brother to a Brahmun than are the inferior animals. If a shoemaker accidentally should touch the plate of a Brahmun, he would not use its contents; it is as if a dog should touch it. I know that in this world we must have, of necessity, differences in position, culture, accomplishments, etc., that one demands respect of another; but do we stand high or low agreeably to our caste, wealth, intelligence, before Him who is “no respecter of persons”? When a Brahmun, I felt it was my duty—making a right use of my position and its attendant prerogatives—to look at the low castes with indifference. I did not touch them if I could possibly help it. I put my foot on their prostrate heads, I gave the dust of my foot to them to eat, and I promised them earthly and heavenly blessings. But the moment I learned from the lips of Jesus what my relation is to my fellow-man, and what duty I owe towards him, I clearly saw the low castes are just as high as myself. Hearing that “God maketh his sun to rise on the good and evil,” that the harlots, the despised, would enter into blessedness before the proud Pharisee, I cheerfully abdicated the honors, the prerogatives of my high position as a Brahmun, and wished to jump down upon the level where the despised low castes stood. Indeed, who but God knows the magnitude of the delight I enjoyed in standing by the side of the low castes! While in the street I would walk close to them, and thereby get an opportunity to touch them. Of course the grown-up low castes would not come in close contact with me, fearing it would be a dangerous thing for them. So I used to hide my sacred or priestly badge under my clothes, which, if kept in its proper place would have testified of my caste, and to speak kind words to the despised sons of humanity.

After reading the life of Christ carefully, I came to the following conclusions:—That our Creator is one God, who is not only the highest, greatest, and most powerful of all, but at the same time a Father,—a loving Father, with a heart more tender than that of any earthly friends. Indeed, I love to dwell upon this latter conception of God always. In hours of joy or in hours of sorrow I seem to forget that he is a Lord, and I lean against his bosom with filial confidence. I had tofearthe gods of my fathers, but when I sat at the feet of the Divine Wisdom which presented to me one God, a Father, I wished tolovehim.

Secondly, that man is my brother, no matter whatever be his caste, creed, color, or country, because the same Father has given us life; we are alike the recipients of his blessing, and have equal claims upon his unbounded love. I learned that the best and truest way to love God is to love man; for what kind of love is that, if I bear it toward a father, and hate his children whom he dearly loves?

Thirdly, that man is a free moral agent, subject, however, to the moral laws of his Maker, the ultimate end of whose whole counsel is the welfare of his children. It came to me that when we love each other, live in peace, “bear each other’s burden,” and guide each other in the path of righteousness, we are “co-workers with God;” and when we do otherwise we bring misery and wretchedness upon ourselves, for which we suffer and stand responsible to God. Although I had believed in a future life long before I came to Christ, yet I did not possess a rational idea of it,—it was wrapped up with a garment of mystery. The worshippers of Shiba will be received in his Koylas,—those of Krishto in his Goluck, etc., where they will breathe the breezes of different Paradises. I often thought these must be narrow heavens indeed that do not admit all. Again, how couldthe joys of heaven be perfect if we do not meet with those dearest relations who died a long time ago, and the objects of our love and affection taken away from us at different times? My mother worships Krishto, and Shiba was my god, so of course we both will be received by our respective gods. Would not the pangs of separation attend us wherever we go? and even, taking for granted that we are to see each other occasionally, it must be something like visiting! But the future state which Christ promises us is where not only our kindred might be admitted, but where those from east and west, north and south would “meet to part no more.” “In my Father’s house are many mansions,” he says, which “he goes to prepare for us.” What a blessed hope it is for one who loves all the children of God, and likes to see them, to live with them, and pray with them! In regard to Christ, my impression became that he is theSentof God, his “beloved Son” indeed. He was raised especially by our Father to regenerate the world, to proclaim peace and good will unto men,—to bring the wanderers back, to uplift degraded humanity, and break the sting of death, and “bring Immortality to light.” He was a true model of Humanity,—a perfect man. He was what man ought to be. Whatever attributes of the Most High could be grasped by a finite nature were fully given to him; so it is no wonder when we call him Immanuel or the “express image of God.” We are all made in the image of God; but it is a pity that we do not long stand in the state of purity, do not retain our original stamp; the world paints us over, and thereby disfigures us. But the plane where Christ stood was very high,—far beyond the reach of the world; so that while on earth, he lived and moved with celestial graces, and enjoyed sweet communion with his God always, and died as a resigned Son indeed.He was entirely different from all other religious teachers who have ever blessed the earth with their instructions. There was one peculiarity in him which had not attained its perfection in other religious teachers. Whatever this divine Teacher taught he exhibited in his own life, showing thereby to the world the practicability of his doctrines. A geographer informs us of the position and the height of a mountain, the rise, course, and fall of a river, and draws a map for illustration, that he may convey the truth distinctly unto us. In like manner Christ performed his mission. He teaches us humility,—behold the Saviour of the world washes the feet of the low castes of Judea! He speaks love,—lo! he breathes love from the cross, when the cruel and wicked sons of man were driving nails through his innocent limbs! “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do!”

Desiring to be profited by Christ and to throw off the burden of superstition, and to put on the yoke of Christ instead, I secretly yielded to the longing for a new life. The old habits, religious ordinances, the once beloved idols, seemed dry, unimportant things. I could no longer hide myself within the “veil of taciturnity.” Now and then I dared to speak to my friends new things, to breathe unto them new affections, and to surprise them with new deeds. I would detail as well as I can remember the trials, misunderstandings, and ridicule that crowned my brow subsequently. The life of Christ proved so sweet to me that I felt quite sure others would like it, so in the afternoon I would go to some friend to read from it. Some liked it as a story; others felt quite amused hearing of the miracles of Christ, as they see most of them attempted by their countrymen, and their legendary books too abound with such things. Even the raising of Lazarus from the grave andthe resurrection of Christ did not surprise them because there was no novelty in them. I must confess, however, the miracles of Christ did not strike me very much. Having witnessed some like them done before me, and having read of such in our religious books, I did not “seek after a sign,” but perceived wonderful miracles performed by Jesus spiritually in my own case. These very hands of mine which did not touch the low caste before, now stretched forth to embrace them. Having eyes, I could not before see my path clearly; but Jesus made and put clay on them, and told me to wash them in the pool of the Gospel, which I did, and now I begin to see. I was deaf to the cry of duty; but the gentle voice of the Teacher entered in, and I now hear it without prejudice. I was possessed with “devils,”—the “legions,” for they were many,—such as caste feeling, hatred towards low castes, prejudices, etc.; but they all fled before the divine presence of Christ, saying, “What have we to do with thee, thou Son of God.” Thus I cared more for these spiritual miracles which helped me to begin a new life and understand the worth of Jesus and his mission more vividly than anything else could have done. I am aware that Christ himself appealed to his miracles to prove to the Jews the divine sanction of his mission. “If ye believe not me, believe my works.” But it was to the simple yet weak-minded people that he spoke in that way. To some he refused any miracle,—declined to do anything surprising, but spake with authority as no man did before. I do not disbelieve the miracles performed by Christ, as he says whatever he does he does by the power of God, to whom everything is possible; as our poets say, that “He can cause a pigmy to reach the moon, and a lame man to jump over a mountain.” So is the belief with almost all of the intelligent Hindoos.

The Raja Rammohun Roy, too, cared more for “the preceptsof Jesus” than for his miracles. In his compilation of the words of Christ, he begins with his words in the Sermon on the Mount, I think. He wanted to have his countrymen know and value and follow what Christ said, more emphatically, than rest upon what he did miraculously. Therefore, believing as I did, in the miracles of Jesus, and knowing what would be the feeling of my friends, I did not hold them as the foremost part of Christianity, but presented to them the wise yet intelligible, the rich yet simple, counsels of our Master.

While I was proceeding in this way to read and speak from the New Testament, some Hindoo friends rose against me and reported to the village and to my mother that I was soon going to be a “Beef-eater” or Christian. This, of course, alarmed my mother exceedingly, and she aroused all her energies to save me from the impending ruin. Where shall I hide the New Testament? was the anxious question that troubled me. She herself cannot read, so that was some relief on that score. But the boys would come in my absence and take any Christian book from my room and show it to my mother, making her miserable thereby. Her fear of losing me grew so great, and also of the disgrace that would surely fall upon the family in case I became an apostate, or, worse than that, a “beef-eater,” that I had to feel anxious about my other books while away, lest she should throw them all into the water. Being acquainted with Rev. Mr. Dall, who kindly gave me Unitarian tracts, I found great relief afterwards, because the tracts being small, not handsomely bound, and not having the “Holy Bible” written on them, my mother did not care about them. A large book, handsomely bound, often creates suspicion among the Hindoos, especially if the bearer be known to be an Anti-Hindoo in the least. Once I was coming home with alarge volume of the Bengalee translation of “Lamb’s Tales of Shakespeare,” which I had borrowed from a rich Brahmun friend in a neighboring town. Some men, pretending to hold a friendly talk with me, made me stop. One said, “You have read a great many books, I presume more than G——, P——, and M——, etc., have done. That’s a pretty large book in your hand; did you get it from a Missionary?” I gave the book to the speaker, who curiously opened it and read, “Romeo and Juliet,” “Tempest,” “Macbeth,” &c., as its contents.

Christ says the tree will be known by its fruits. And again, if ye love one another the people will know that ye belong to Christ. Seeing our Master visit frequently the low, the despised, and the publicans in their humble homes, my affection turned toward the publicans in India. An angelic love hitherto unknown, which is “not a respecter of persons,” sat in my eyes, and before them all the castes of the Hindoos, from the Brahmun down to the hog-keeper, looked alike. I could no longer accept their salutation without returning the same, and this brought upon me the indignation of the Brahmuns and the terror of other castes. With much fervor and perhaps with less prudence, I went to the extreme at first, in returning the low caste the verykindof salutation he made; thus, when he bent his head to me I did likewise to him; when he touched my foot, I wished to do the same. Of course this was too much condescension on my part, which my friends could not bear for a moment. They feared that my teaching them that way would offend the gods, and consequently that something dangerous would happen to them from their wrath! In order to make the matter sure and expose me to the public hatred, some Brahmun boys would engage a low caste to salute me reverently,—to take the dust of my feet and see whatI did. If I returned the honor thus offered me, the whole company would clap their hands, ridicule me, and report it to my mother and other high-caste relations. I realized in a measure how our Master had been troubled by the cunning Jews who now came to gainsay his words; then rebuked him for eating with the low castes, &c. One night while we were discussing religious topics, (as they were wont to do, in order to get from me my free thought that they might accuse me of infidelity,) one asked, “Joguth, suppose you wanted some advice in relation to religious matters, and the son of the washerman, B——, was fully able to give it to you, would you go to him or to a priest?” Although I knew the craft underlying the question, still I answered that, “If I can find pure gold in a ditch close by my house, I would not go to Australia for it.” The curious brother sprung up from his seat and hurled anathemas on my head, saying I was the ruin of our family, a shame to my caste, and an unworthy son to my father; that I would soon wear a coat and hat, eat cows and hogs, and drink wine, etc. Such disagreeable experiences, frequently visited upon me with ridicule and contempt, gave me courage and wisdom. I applied the wisdom of serpents and the innocence of a dove, as far as I possibly could, in my encounters with those fault-seeking brethren. Under such circumstancespeaceseemed as if it would desert me; but I retained its sacred influence in my heart, and longed for that peace which the world cannot give nor take away. Notwithstanding all these discouraging surroundings I determined to be “about my Father’s business,” to go to the people and speak to them kindly what I believed would promote their happiness in life here and hereafter. Besides speaking to those within my reach in my daily walks in life, I sought as places of my resort, the workshops of some goldsmiths and weavers.These men I found very pleasant, possessed of little education, but with a great deal of intelligence, able to conduct a discussion upon high themes, and to comprehend the best writings of the country. I found them, too, very familiar with the Hindoo legendary works. Every afternoon and evening almost, half a dozen men would assemble there, and one of the party would read aloud from a religious book. But their attachment to the gods and their legends did not hinder my going to them; on the contrary they always used to talk with me upon religious and moral topics. By and by I sought acquaintance with a party of young rowdies belonging to several castes. Almost all of them drank wine, and frequented disreputable places for pleasure and music. Nowhere did I enter with such an earnestness to do good as here. I thought this was the true harvest to be gathered, and I must work in it. Modesty stops my pen in writing about the character I exhibited among them, but it is enough to say that love and perseverance characterized my labor here. The young men belonging to my own caste remonstrated with me, protesting that instead of doing any good among these corrupted low castes, I should surely bring ruin upon myself, and that my course was foolish. To these I did not hesitate to repeat distinctly the words of Christ, to the effect, that the sick people want medicine, but the healthy ones do not.

In course of time I found myself entirely deserted by my former associates,—the friends who lived in the same quarter with me. In fact, their animosity, arising from my not joining them in their excursions for pleasure and sporting, grew so great that very few would favor me with a smile or a word. One afternoon, as I was coming home from Hourah, I met a dozen of them playing Mou machie, or beehive. One of them inquired of me where I hadbeen, and I answered in a low voice and slowly, for I was very tired then, having had to walk home seven miles without dinner. This amused them exceedingly, and each of them attempted to surpass his comrades in imitating my voice.

These brethren reported to my mother all about my visits to the low castes, my teaching them Christian doctrines, etc., and thereby made her doubly miserable. Sometimes she would not eat anything, would weep for hours, and throw away my books. “Joguth, I cannot bear all these jokes and hard words; they complain of your teaching their children not to fear gods, respect Brahmuns, etc. Being a Brahmun, you mix with low castes. I am afraid you will sit at dinner with them some time, as you say ‘caste is nothing.’ O Joguth, has Jom (or death) forgotten your house?”

Although I felt quite sure that the gods of my country are mere imaginary deities, or some ancient heroes deified after death, still I could not readily free my mind from the fear and respect I bore for them from my infancy. But something must be done, some measure must be taken to make an experiment of their power, so that I need bend before their images no longer. An old anecdote coming vividly to my mind, seemed to discourage me for a while. It was this. Nearly a couple of years before I had been to worship the idols belonging to a widow. It was a winter evening, and carelessly I had forgotten to cover them with their warm clothes. Next day I was told by that widow of the great crime I had done, and I felt much frightened to see the images suffering in cold. She said she retired late, as usual, and notwithstanding a quantity of clothes on her back she felt chilly. Not knowing the reason of such an unusual experience, she came to the closet and found theidols laying unprotected in the cold! Now a great fear filled my heart at the thought that, if owing to my carelessness, the innocent woman suffered, how much more will I have to suffer if I neglect the gods forever. But upon consideration that God is mightier than all, that if we come unto him for protection, no god, no spirit, can hurt us in the least, I grew strong. I would not have gone so far as to touch irreverently the idols, had it not been to see whether there is any consciousness in them; because I had been taught to believe that they are living beings. So, one by one, I tried the strength of the idols that fell within my reach, in treating them with less care. Thus, one day while I was bringing down the idols from a high place, like a mantelpiece, the heaviest of them fell down on the floor, making a loud noise thereby. Hastily I picked it up, examined whether any damage had been done or not, and washed it as usual. At first, I thought I would not worship it in the prescribed ways; but, fearing it would be too much for the first time, I thought it prudent to worship it as usual. Thus privately taking steps too bold, too improper for a Hindoo to venture, I determined to see the end. During the time of Shundhas I would not repeat the creed-like formula, but simply say Gayothrie several times, because the latter is a prayer to an invisible, immortal Creator. My mother watched my movements for a while, and inquired whether I had forgotten my Shundhas, saying that I used to repeat them in an hour, but that I now finished in ten minutes! I told her I remembered them all. But she would not believe it, and called my older brother to examine me, which he did to his entire satisfaction. He told her I knew them so well that it did not take me a long time to repeat them.

To a town on the other side of the Ganges I had to gooccasionally to worship idols. During the holidays I was sent by my mother there to worship the goddess of Learning. I did not repeat any prayer. I sat down before the idol, and scattered flowers in the usual way. The matron said, “I wonder how you could perform this worship in so short time!” I felt embarrassed, and sitting before the idol in the next house, spent more time in reciting slowly my English lessons learned long ago,—such as “The English Grammar is the art of speaking and writing the English language correctly.” “The Caspian sea or lake is surrounded by Russia, Tartary, and Persia.” “A straight line that divides a circle in two equal parts is called its diameter,” etc., and no complaint was made then. I am fully aware I did a great many things at this stage of my experience which certainly wore a double aspect,—not daring to let these changes in my faith be known to my friends, and at the same time not wishing to follow what I conceived to be superstition. Finding me going daily toward the wrong way, as it seemed to my dear mother, she determined to commit me to the charge of our family Gooroo, or spiritual guide, and to put his yoke on my neck! This I resisted with my indifference, argument, and obstinacy, because the life under Gooroo is indeed a life of foolishness. The Gooroo selects from the hosts of gods a certain one for his disciple,—the name and the nature of which he is to hide from the world and worship it as his own. Again, what is worse still, he is to regard the Gooroo as identical with his god, to worship him and do homage unto him, just as he would to his God himself! When he visits the family every member prostrates before him, and worships him. I hated to do that for three reasons,—first, that since I had lost my faith and loyalty to the very gods, I could not have any regard for a man whose only office was to bind me intoslavery unto him and the gods; secondly, I felt satisfied with that unerring, unselfish Teacher who said, “Call no man thy master,” etc., “I seek not mine own glory,” “Why callest thou me good?” etc.; and hence, thirdly, I believed that the Gooroo and myself were walking on the same road, side by side, so that neither ought to gain a mastery over the other. But my good mother, like all other Hindoos, felt otherwise. She sincerely believed that the influence of Oopodesh, or regeneration by the hands of the Gooroo, would fill my heart with new grace fromIstdele(the god selected by the Gooroo).

She sent for him, and he came to our house to convert me, not by reasoning to the truth, but by the pretended majesty of his rank,—by his appeals to the Hindoo customs,—unto gross superstition, which, with prayers and tears I was trying to get rid of. At first I made excuses, saying, “Let him give ‘montra’ (sacred words) to my oldest brother; I am young, so there is no hurry about it now,” etc. But I knew full well the purpose of my mother,—that she was anxious to chainme, who was about to fly away from the gods! She said it would look well to have the two brothers takemontratogether—that it would cost less, etc. More than six times the day for our “Oopodesh” had been fixed, but I was where I was, or perhaps a little “higher.” Sometimes, seeing that man coming to our house, from a distance, I would immediately go to some friends and remain there until he had gone home. My mother would follow my track now and then and bring me to him, and plead for my indifference! One afternoon I was sleeping in my room, and he came and began to talk to my mother. I determined not to see him (as the rule would require me to prostrate myself before him, which I hated to do). I thought I would go out by the back door, and thereby escape the degradation of worshippinga man for the present, if not the rebukes of my mother. But she came into my room ere I had time to put my theory into practice, saying, “Joguth! Joguth! there is Gooroo, who wants to see you.” I tried vainly to keep still and pay no heed to her, as if I was in a profound sleep! She whispered into my ear, “Do not insult the Gooroo—it is an unpardonable sin on your part, Joguth. His look of displeasure will surely burn you to death,” etc. At last, finding her too urgent, I declared openly that I had got the “montras” from a Teacher, and that I did not want any other than these, “The Lord our God is one Lord,” or “Om aka meb ’ŏ the ti-ung,” “There isoneGod without a second.” This did not satisfy her; although my constant indifference to the Gooroo frightened him so he never dared to raise the question again, yet my mother, perhaps, still hopes that I might yield, for shecannotconceive how I could do otherwise.

Thus troubled at home and ridiculed abroad, I longed for a free, genial atmosphere. The very gentleness I wished to display at home, the kindness to the low castes, brought ridicule upon me, and many times I went to secluded places to cry to my Father and my God. Providentially I had been acquainted with Baboo C. C. S., a native convert to Christianity, and an energetic, highly-educated young man; but the community hated memorefor this reason. As, owing to the opposition and vigilance of my friends, I could not find a chance to study the New Testament, I resorted to the memoirs of noble men and women for Christianity. The life of Mrs. Mundey, the missionary to India, interested me very much; the “Pilgrim’s Progress,” “Chambers’s Biographies,” etc., gave me ample instruction. Indeed, I seemed to find Christian truth almost everywhere,—in grammars, geographies, histories, in the world around, and in the heaven above.

Through an earnest search I gathered a few friends who, though they did not quite dare to forsake the gods and to reject the caste prejudices, still promised a happy result in future. But none of these were my nearest neighbors, so that I could go to them and spend a little time in a pleasant way.

To see whether our caste feelings were gone or not we proposed an experiment—and as it would not be possible to take a meal in a low caste’s house because of the household, we resolved to cook some food privately, and see what we could do. Accordingly, on a rainy evening, we three, one a young farmer, a physician, and myself a Brahmun, cooked some Khichwry (rice and a kind of peas highly seasoned with spice). I could not help in the cooking, being entirely unacquainted with the process, but our farmer friend, I think, was a “pretty good cook.” To rise to the climax of the freedom so privately sought, I consulted with some trustworthy and religious brethren, who hailed the enterprise with joyous hearts. We used to meet in a field, and, on account of the ground being wet, to spread some leaves over it, and thereby made quite soft, comfortable seats. We did not know then what particular form of prayer to offer to God, so I suggested to our brethren that we would offer child’s prayers—bring all our wants, both temporal and spiritual, before the throne of grace in perfect trust, and let Him give or deny unto us whatever he pleased. So we prayed that the good Father would cure our headaches, fevers, etc., that he would make us good, honest, learned men.

This novel gathering in the field aroused the curiosity of the people, who feared we should some day become very troublesome to the community. The report reached almost every ear, and we were taken for adulterers, or what is worse still, “Kistans” (Christians). This latter charge wasbrought especially on account ofmybeing connected with the party. But we did not feel discouraged, for we believed that to make our thanks and wants known to our good Father, we need not go here or there, close our eyes or open them, kneel down or stand on our feet, utter words or observe silence, for the Object of our worship is a Spirit, that fills the universe with his presence, and who knows all, inspects all, loves all his creatures. Still man is a social creature,—he wants advice, guidance, and help from others,—he improves himself by others’ example. This change of my religious ideas gave me one singular feeling: love for man in general, or in other words, love for the low castes wherever they could be found.

Nothing pleased me more than a crowd of men in whose faces, eyes, and movements we distinctly read the wisdom, love, and spirit of God. So I wished very much to be with them, especially for religious purposes; but my singular views of religion drove them away. In Calcutta there are Christian churches where I could not attend, much as I desired to do so. On Sunday, on my way to or from my friends in the city, I would stand in a street on which a church is placed, watch the people as they entered in, and eagerly lend my ears to the voices that were sending up to the throne of grace the praises and songs. Of course I could not stand long there, the bustling noise of the carriage-wheels would drown the joyous voices, and so I reluctantly would direct my steps homeward, uttering, “Blessed is the place where God is worshipped in spirit!” O Father! though my countrymen worship thee through idols and pictures, through forms and ceremonies, I rejoice to think that others adore thee in spirit! A young Brahmun sold me six English books which he had bought at a public auction in Calcutta. One was the “Memoir of Mrs. Mundey,” two were books ofCommon Prayer, and the rest were novels. My soul swam in ecstasy when I found that almost on every page the prayers begin with “Our Father,” “Most Gracious God,” “O God, our Father!” etc. Reading them earnestly, reflecting on the sweet, fervent, childlike expression of the heart therein, my joy knew no bounds. I made a present of one Prayer-Book to a Brahmun friend, and reserved the other for my own edification. I must confess, however, that the closing lines of the prayers, such as “in the name of our Saviour,” “through Jesus Christ our Lord,” etc., filled my heart with confusion. I believed God is unbounded love in his very nature,—gives his blessings to his children before they know to ask for them. Why then should I implore his mercy in the name of Christ? In the Hindoo prayers I had found such conditions. I had been taught to expect blessings from a deity through a second or third hand, so I feared these expressions in the Prayer-Books might have the same meaning. In the heat of enthusiasm at my freedom from superstition—with a desire to come to God directly, I took my pencil and cancelled these lines. By and by I came to the Litanies, where I met with “Glory to God the Son, and to God the Holy Ghost,” etc. Who can these Gods be? inquired I of myself. What book is this that teaches us to worship them? Let me see; is it a Christian Prayer-Book that I have bought, or what? Spending a few days in doubt and confusion I sought my friend to whom I had given a Common Prayer-Book, and to my utter surprise found him troubled likewise. He had marked out several passages in that book which ascribe glory and worship to God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, etc., which he declared foreign to the New Testament doctrine. We examined carefully some of the leading places in the New Testament the second time, and found no such thing as glory tothe Son there. The Son says he did not come to seek his “own glory.” When the disciples desired him to teach them to pray, he said, “After this manner pray ye, Our Father which art in heaven,” etc. Again, the very idea of worshipping “God the Son,” and “God the Spirit,” seemed to us quite amusing if not quitenew, for we were accustomed to worship god the son, god the nephew, goddess the niece, etc., while Hindoos in faith. So we thought we would not worship these extra gods of the Prayer-Book, however moderate their number is. It seemed absurd to us to offer supreme homage to a person subject to hunger, thirst, weakness, sorrows, death, etc., and who worshipped the same God with his disciples, and who craved for sweet communion with his God,—to lay before him all his soul’s deepest longings. Christ, I read in the Gospels, often sought mountain-tops, or river-sides, away from the little band, to spend hours in prayer.

Not being able to remain in this state of suspense any longer, I went to a clergyman and informed him of my sincere desire to know the God of whom Christ is the “Beloved Son.” Very kindly he offered me his cordial hands, introduced me to his library, and promised me his blessing every way. At his request that I would attend the morning services in his church, which were held at seven, I rose early and walked six miles so as to get there in season. The services were conducted in Hindoo fashion in some respect, as he did not read the Scripture himself: there was another present to take that part. Prayers were offered in behalf of the queen, the council, etc., which I liked very much, because in seeking good for others we show our love for them. But alas! the old trouble again! Again I heard of “God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost” there!

Learning my troubles, and with a view to alleviate them,the minister gave me a book called “Catechism,” but unfortunately, owing to the peculiar state of my mind, it made the matter worse still. In it for the first time I read expressions like the following, “As the very God of very God,” “begotten, but not made,” “one in three, three in one,” “yet distinct,” which to me sounded anything but rational. I begged the minister to explain these things to me as they appeared contradictory among themselves. I believed the very God is always very God, and the very man is always very man,—they cannot be otherwise; that humanity and Deity are two distinct things, so that they cannot be made identical. Again, the wordTrinitywas something new, which, in my study of the New Testament I did not meet with. I was told that these things lie beyond the reach of human conception; that our best effort to understand or to explain them would be fruitless; that although they seem contradictory and absurd to us, in reality they are not so, because they are unfathomable truths,—the children of the Revelations. This did not satisfy me, for I could not believe that our reason would contradict what the Revelation has to say. In looking at the matter with a simple and earnest mind, we see that Revelation brings us new and important truths and is not afraid of the close inspection of reason. Revelation owes much to reason, without which it cannot perform its mission. God gave Revelation untous, who are endowed with reasoning faculties, that we might examine, reflect upon, and receive its contents. Reason, then, is the key to open Revelation.

Again, there isno failurein God; whatever he wishes to do is done in the best manner possible. So if he wished to bless his children with new truth in relation to his own nature, under the new dispensation, he could do it distinctly, intelligibly, and to their satisfaction. Our reasoning facultiesdo not object to the sublime truths like these, “Behold, Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord,” “Love thy neighbor as thyself,” etc., because these and their kindred ones are substantial truths that men can live and die by. Men of different religions, culture, age, and accomplishment almost unanimously regard the above-mentioned precepts with reverence. There is no controversy about them. Thus truth stands on its own ground, self-existent, self-supporting forever.

“A thousand honest doubts are more manly than a single cowardly assent to a proposition,” are the words of a Boston clergyman. I realized the beauty of his doctrine in this stage of my inquiry. As I had got over the fear of being damned, for not believing what my reasoning powers bore testimony against, and whatmy Teacherdoes not speak of, I badefarewellto the Christian minister with reluctance, and directed my steps towards home.

My disappointment in seeing Christianity set before me in so many unintelligible, mysterious doctrines, reminds me of a curious anecdote. A man, poor from his early years, accustomed to live upon all sorts of coarse food, became the guest of a very opulent man. He anticipated a great treat there: he thought he would get some luxurious food, but to his great surprise he found nearly the very coarse things he used to eat at home, ready for his disposal. Astonished, he stood before the table and began to give vent to his disappointment. “Friends! I left you all in my broken cottage; here I am in a princely mansion, how did you manage to come here? I did not think of meeting you so soon, and in such a place!”

My disappointment was strong when I was greeted by so many absurd doctrines, that pass under the name of Christian. I left Brahmunism on account of these same obscure, dry, unintelligible precepts with which it is crowded, and approachedunto the handsome edifice of Christianity with the hope of finding something better. But lo, the very absurdity again! In Christian countries the people open their Bibles, not so much to derive a certain belief from the pages as to find support for an already acquired one. They go already prepared to find this or that view. Thus a Unitarian child meets the doctrines on the Unity of God throughout the Bible; and on the other hand, a Trinitarian child finds hints and supports for his Trinity almost on every page within its covers. My case was quite different; when I came to Christ I did not anticipate much save that whatever he would utter unto me must be sublime, redeeming, vital truths.

“What shall I do now?” became an important inquiry; go back to the gods and goddesses of my fathers, or what? I felt ashamed of thatcatechism, so I hid it under my books, that no opponents might see it and ridicule Christianity before my face. Christianity is not at all responsible for the hosts of dry, strange, unintelligible dogmas that claim our assent. Some time afterwards my nephew, a boy of thirteen, happened to open this old catechism of mine and to read the “creeds.” He smiled a little, and said, “Uncle, what book is this?” “That’s a catechism; don’t you see? It contains the Articles of Faith!” “Of what faith, uncle?” “Of the Christian faith,” said I. “Don’t say so! I declare! Isn’t the New Testament sufficient for that purpose? Here, you see, I read Christ was both God and man. God is one, yet has three distinct persons. Do the English people believe in these things?” “Certainly they do,” I rejoined. The little boy closed the book, saying, “Uncle, it makes me smile to think that the English people who drive railroad engines, build steamboats, and send messages through electric wires, should not know the difference between man and God,—one and three,” etc.

After a short season of the “Suspense of Faith,”—not knowing where to go, I met a young friend from Calcutta who is a member of the “Brahmo Somaj,” founded by the celebrated Raja Ram mohun Roy himself, or by his followers, I am not sure which. He brought me a large sheet of partly printed paper in which I entered my name, residence, date of subscription, etc., and thus took the name of “Brahmo,” or deist, as far as theunityof God is concerned. But as we wished to make our religion depend more upon ourworks, our affections, our love toward men in general, than upon a certain belief, I did not find much satisfaction in my deist life. The Bengalee deists are men of admirable character, of great intelligence, and of mild disposition, but the majority of them lack the spirit of freedom. They do not have much faith in the idols I think, but they have idolsat their houses, which are worshipped and taken care of at their expense. How far they repudiate the caste system I am not sure, for I have not seen nor heard of high-caste deists dining with low-caste brethren publicly, nor have I known a Brahmun deist to marry the daughter of other castes. I do not mean thatthese, i. e. eating, drinking, and marrying with different castes are the essential parts of religion, and that as such the Calcutta deists do not observe them. No; the caste system, notwithstanding all its policy and the good it pretends to do, is obviously detrimental to the progress of the masses in India. It lies like the heavy Hymaloy over the heads of the low castes: they cannot rise upward intellectually, socially, or spiritually. Hence the first religious, philanthropic act of those who see the defects of the caste system, ought to be to help its removal and to inaugurate a state of equality among the people. My deistical brethren hardly take that step, although they eat and drink forbidden food and liquor with rich low castes, or withChristian people even privately. They have some saintly men among them. I admire their precepts, honor their private lives, and deem them noble. But they do not come like Jesus of Nazareth unto the publicans and sinners, or to those with unwashen hands.

I became acquainted with a young Brahmun deist,—Baboo Raj-kifsen Bannerjea, of Mahessolla, whom I found the embodiment of truth, love, and piety. Indeed, the firstangelI met in this world was he. His very mild appearance, his soft eyes, shedding forth love from them, his tender voice, are the index of his inward accomplishments. He is a man of considerable learning, and of wealth and high standing in the community. Would I knew what first led him to reject the idol gods! It would make a volume to write all about his life, which, though short, is full of noble, philanthropic acts. His charity is broad, yet discriminating; his dealings with others are frank and kind, yet impartial; his manners are prudent, yet childlike. He observes Christ’s rule as far as it is possible in regard to giving alms,—not letting the left hand know what the right hand doeth. For the benefit of the children of high and low castes he established a school at his own expense chiefly; for the little help which he received from a few individuals was frequently withdrawn on account of his anti-heathen principles.

He has a large landed property which he manages with great caution, as well as to the entire satisfaction of his subjects. I was present one day at his office when a Mohammedan man was brought in on the charge of robbing the garden of our Brahmun friend, his landlord. While he was swearing vehemently in the name of his Allah, to convince the officers of his innocence, our friend had been working an algebraic sum. Having finished his work, he looked athim pityingly and with a tender voice, said, “Friend, swear not! Think how much wrong you have done unto us! You know all! you owe some money to us,—you are my subject. These two obligations bind you to our family, as you say; you ought to protect my property against the usurper,—lo! you are a usurper yourself! I wonder you do not feel sorry for your conduct!”

Noble as this brother is, admirable as his deeds are, he lacks, as I have observed before, that degree of moral courage which none but the “Sent” of God could give. While enjoying the pleasure and privilege of being with these brethren, and deriving much edification from their amiable lives, the under-current of my soul was constantly flowing toward Christ. I could not go away from him, nor forget his loving, precious words that brought me out of superstition. Are not there men who believe as I do,—that God isstrictlyone,—that Christ is the best of all religious teachers whom the world ever had or will have, that he is the Sent and oldest Son of our common Parent? If there are not any found professing such belief,—no matter; I shall stand alone, and offer my help unto the world as far as I am able. Theological differences would not stop my hand and heart from serving and loving others, and this is the best religion indeed! While thus defining my position and receiving instruction from Jesus secretly, my esteemed friend, Baboo C. C. Singha, a convert to Christianity, and who has been a preacher for three years, I should think, told me that he had been told by Hodgson Pratt, Esq., of the arrival of a Unitarian missionary in Calcutta, under the auspices of the American Unitarian Association, and whose views of Christianity are different from those of other missionaries. I could not understand the termUnitarian Christian, because I was told if I did not believe in the Trinity I wasnot a Christian, but a deist. We went to hear the missionary, Rev. C. H. A. Dall, but not being accustomed to hear or talk English, I did not gain much at first. He gave us his printed sermons, and the writings of Channing, Burnap, Elliot, Cordner, Bartol, etc., which, as I read them, not only confirmed what my belief had been, but whispered to me, saying, “Friend, there are thousands on the other side of the Atlantic who hold the same views of God as you do, so you are not alone. Our fellowship and sympathy are yours.” Being made acquainted with and interested in this missionary, I began to attend his religious services on Sunday; but I could not do it regularly for several reasons. Mr. Dall’s place is nearly seven miles from my house; besides, there is the majestic Gunga to be crossed, which “alone is twenty miles,” as the Hindoo saying is.[32]I had to take my breakfast very early and to walk to and fro all the way, crossing the river by steamboat either at Shal-kea, or Howrah. My dear mother was told by my Hindoo brethren that I attended the religious services in a Christian church, with Baboo C. C. Singha. She felt very much frightened at this, and took measures to stop my going to Calcutta on Sunday. “If you will not hear me, but will go to Calcutta on Sunday, go Joguth. The people tell me, and I can presage too, what a disgrace and ruin you will bring upon the family. They say you are almost a ‘Kistan’ now. You eatbeefwith the Yobuns; or, if you do not, they are quite sure you will soon! I am afraid they will turn you out of the feast sometimes, and I don’t blame them for it.Joguth, have you forgotten the proverbs your father taught you? Remember that one member of the family destroys its peace as one tree burns the whole forest, in creating fire by conflagration. You will be the ruin of the family! You would not hear the advice of those who are older and wiser than yourself; nor would you heed my words. And why should you? The young bird, the moment its wings are covered with down, leaves its mother’s nest to look out for itself; so you, Joguth, you are grown up now; my advice, my guidance would not be of any service to you (at least you think so). I do not blame nor hate the Christians. Let them follow their own customs faithfully. Jesu Kisto is their God; let them worship him; I have no objection to that. As Brahmuns, we ought not to hate the gods of other nations. Still we cannot worship them, for they are not ours; we have gods over us. O what a pleasant sight it is to see the young Brahmuns going to the sacred river, to the temples, etc. My heart is delighted to see them! And you, mistaken child, hardly go to the temples or to the Ganges! What business have you in Calcutta? If you will go there on Sunday, go without breakfast; I shall not have it ready for you so early,” etc.

Now, under these circumstances, I could not attend Mr. Dall’s services on every Sunday, much as I wished to do so, and whenever I went, I went without breakfast, and to the utter displeasure of my mother. On my return, at four or five o’clock in the afternoon, she would not set the plate before me, nor help me while I ate my dinner, but would go out of the room to weep over the loss of her child.[33]

I grew so unpopular and the people began to dread me so much that they would not let their boys visit Calcutta with me, lest I should make them “Kistan.” But “where is will there is way,” is a true saying. Notwithstanding all vigilance, ridicule, many from “north and south, the east and west” of Calcutta would be glad to meet in Mr. Dall’s room. Not fearing the difficulties, but rather rejoicing in them, with an inward consciousness that we are not doing wrong before God,—that to seek after the spiritual welfare of man in love, is the best service humanity could render unto God and man,—some of us determined to form a band of believers in and seekers after Truth. The Sunday-school cards, containing beautiful verses, and the Sunday-School Gazette, which Mr. Dall gave us, suggested the plan, and we succeeded in gathering twenty-one high-caste boys, all of whom knew English more or less. Not finding a convenient place for our purpose, we would meet in some garden, away from the Brahmuns, and there read, sing, and speak of God as set forth in the publications of the American Unitarian Association, and of the Sunday-School Society. Again I was connected with the school of Baboo C. C. Singha, a noble, energetic gentleman, and this gave me a good opportunity to be known to many and to disseminate the seeds of truth in their youthful hearts. But “a man’s foes will be of his own household.” The brother of Baboo C. C. Singha, a Trinitarian in his belief, having been converted to that faith in his early years, began to trouble us in various ways, and not unfrequently to take unfair measures and to use unkind words. From an American book, called “Sargent’s Reader,”No. 3, I believe, I had selected a beautiful piece, “Prayer for a Pure Heart,” and asked my young friends to write it down and commit it to memory, which they did cheerfully. This gentleman, while examining their writing-books, saw it, read it, and liked it I am sure, and asked them who gave it to them. Of course they told him that I had given it to them. He uncharitably made some unkind remarks which surprised us all,—saying, in effect, “Joguth is a hypocrite. Let him first be baptized, and then teach these things to others,” etc. I smiled at this, and realized then the truth of Dr. Channing’s discourse on the Church.

In the next chapter I shall attempt to give some reasons in relation to my faith, and to state in what respects I differ from the brethren of other denominations, and why.

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