Let the drum beat in triumph, uplift the glad song,For the guests are assembled, a glittering throng;In the gay halls of Madhub, as radiantly bright,As the heaven of Indra, entrancing the sight.How dazzling the glow that illuminates all,How brilliant the flowers that engarland the wall!See, apart sit the friends of the bridegroom and bride,Retainers in scarlet on every side.What ravishing melody floats on the airWith perfume of blossoms surpassingly rare!Be sure, so celestial a scene to arrayIn Hymen’s sweet honour, took many a day.But the ground is just soaking here under the tentWhere the rain is descending through many a rent.And these up-countrydurwan, offensively loud,What business have they to be hustling the crowd?Discordant the noises that deafen the ear,And the shouts and the hubbub are awful to hear.Yet in view of the sweets and the dainties in store,You’d put up with annoyances double or more.See those figures in paste on the walls stuck about!How the pedigree-poets their rhapsodies shout!Now list to these verses, and publish the fameOf Kankan,— the paragon verse-maker’s name!The bridegroom is coming! A silence profoundIs felt for a moment, and plaudits resound.But the juvenile Babus are eager for fun,And lo! in a minute the row has begun.His schemes are miscarrying, Thakchacha fears,As he listens aghast to the shouts and the jeers.We too are astounded;— this banging and crashing!This rending of carpets and clanging and clashing!Why, the glass chandeliers they are wantonly smashing!We’d better be off, we are in for a thrashing!In wonder sits Mati, revolving the thought,“It seems my investiture’s profiting nought!”“The scoundrel Bakreshwar!”uprises a shout,“Give him a caning and hustle him out!”And Bancharam also, the schemer profound,Is wriggling in torture and howls on the ground.Says Becharam hastily,“Here, come aside;”“Things do not look promising: where shall we hide?”And carries off Beni, bereft of resource.While ever the tumult increases in force.“Help, help!”holloas Baburam, much in alarm,For support round a pillar entwining his arm.Ho, speed to the rescue Thakchacha the brave!But to keep a whole skin’s the one thought of the knave!Whom, with head muffled up as he gingerly goes,They arrest as chief culprit, and hurl on his nose,And roll in the dust till his eyes are of sand full,And tear out the hair of his head by the handful.Hear“Tauba!”and“Tauba!”the Mussulman yell!“Of my sins I repent, on the border of hell!”“But I’d nothing whatever to do with it, no!”“An innocent Moslem,— why badger him so?”“Bismillah! alack! To appear on the scene”“Such an outrage to suffer, was folly I ween!”“Among the mild Hindus I guilelessly came”“From the parent of motives; and this is their game!”“Ah fool! the advice of thy friends to despise,”“At the cost of thy beauty, thy beard, and thine eyes!”Now enter thedurwansathirst for the fray,And round them theirlathisimpartially lay;Then howls of excitement and terror and pain,The crack of the truncheon and swish of the cane!The friends of the bridegroom and those of the brideAre scuttling in terror on every side:Within flies the bridegroom, the company’s scattered,And all the gay trappings of Hymen are shattered.“Thakchacha still here!”some enthusiast shouts,“Pour mud on his turban and tear off his clouts!”In dishonour poor Baburam slinks from the hallAnd all his brave show goes for nothing at all.His costume’s in tatters within and without,And shawlless and shoeless he stumbles about,Distractedly moaning:—“How hard is my case”“Whom death from exposure now stares in the face!”“The oncoming tempest I hear from afar:”“’Tis the progress triumphal of Death on his car!”“Thus helpless and sole, not a creature to aid,”“Can his dire visitation be longer delayed?”“I am bruised and exhausted, and breath I have none:”“The Fates are against me! O what have I done?”“And my pitiful lot, if it reaches the ear”“Of the wife of my bosom, will kill her, I fear.”“Did the marriage come off I’m unable to tell!”“From a blow on the cranium unconscious I fell.”“These schemes matrimonial dictated by vanity”“Have landed me here on the verge of insanity!”Thus loudly bewailing, a cottage he spies.Where no cruel warder an access denies.And there in a corner, alone, on a mat,Monumental in misery,— Thakchacha sat!“Ah traitor and craven, ’twas cruelly done,”“Thy comrade deserting, thou treacherous one!”“O frailty of mortals! how falleth the best,”“When the touchstone of peril puts love to the test!"”“Hush, check your emotion!”his champion replies,“For where are we safe from our enemies spies?”“You’ll own, when you’ve heard me,— my confident trust is—”“You’ve done your protector a grievous injustice”!’Tis daybreak, as homeward they ruefully wend,And Kankan his epic thus brings to an end.
Let the drum beat in triumph, uplift the glad song,For the guests are assembled, a glittering throng;In the gay halls of Madhub, as radiantly bright,As the heaven of Indra, entrancing the sight.How dazzling the glow that illuminates all,How brilliant the flowers that engarland the wall!See, apart sit the friends of the bridegroom and bride,Retainers in scarlet on every side.What ravishing melody floats on the airWith perfume of blossoms surpassingly rare!Be sure, so celestial a scene to arrayIn Hymen’s sweet honour, took many a day.But the ground is just soaking here under the tentWhere the rain is descending through many a rent.And these up-countrydurwan, offensively loud,What business have they to be hustling the crowd?Discordant the noises that deafen the ear,And the shouts and the hubbub are awful to hear.Yet in view of the sweets and the dainties in store,You’d put up with annoyances double or more.See those figures in paste on the walls stuck about!How the pedigree-poets their rhapsodies shout!Now list to these verses, and publish the fameOf Kankan,— the paragon verse-maker’s name!The bridegroom is coming! A silence profoundIs felt for a moment, and plaudits resound.But the juvenile Babus are eager for fun,And lo! in a minute the row has begun.His schemes are miscarrying, Thakchacha fears,As he listens aghast to the shouts and the jeers.We too are astounded;— this banging and crashing!This rending of carpets and clanging and clashing!Why, the glass chandeliers they are wantonly smashing!We’d better be off, we are in for a thrashing!In wonder sits Mati, revolving the thought,“It seems my investiture’s profiting nought!”“The scoundrel Bakreshwar!”uprises a shout,“Give him a caning and hustle him out!”And Bancharam also, the schemer profound,Is wriggling in torture and howls on the ground.Says Becharam hastily,“Here, come aside;”“Things do not look promising: where shall we hide?”And carries off Beni, bereft of resource.While ever the tumult increases in force.“Help, help!”holloas Baburam, much in alarm,For support round a pillar entwining his arm.Ho, speed to the rescue Thakchacha the brave!But to keep a whole skin’s the one thought of the knave!Whom, with head muffled up as he gingerly goes,They arrest as chief culprit, and hurl on his nose,And roll in the dust till his eyes are of sand full,And tear out the hair of his head by the handful.Hear“Tauba!”and“Tauba!”the Mussulman yell!“Of my sins I repent, on the border of hell!”“But I’d nothing whatever to do with it, no!”“An innocent Moslem,— why badger him so?”“Bismillah! alack! To appear on the scene”“Such an outrage to suffer, was folly I ween!”“Among the mild Hindus I guilelessly came”“From the parent of motives; and this is their game!”“Ah fool! the advice of thy friends to despise,”“At the cost of thy beauty, thy beard, and thine eyes!”Now enter thedurwansathirst for the fray,And round them theirlathisimpartially lay;Then howls of excitement and terror and pain,The crack of the truncheon and swish of the cane!The friends of the bridegroom and those of the brideAre scuttling in terror on every side:Within flies the bridegroom, the company’s scattered,And all the gay trappings of Hymen are shattered.“Thakchacha still here!”some enthusiast shouts,“Pour mud on his turban and tear off his clouts!”In dishonour poor Baburam slinks from the hallAnd all his brave show goes for nothing at all.His costume’s in tatters within and without,And shawlless and shoeless he stumbles about,Distractedly moaning:—“How hard is my case”“Whom death from exposure now stares in the face!”“The oncoming tempest I hear from afar:”“’Tis the progress triumphal of Death on his car!”“Thus helpless and sole, not a creature to aid,”“Can his dire visitation be longer delayed?”“I am bruised and exhausted, and breath I have none:”“The Fates are against me! O what have I done?”“And my pitiful lot, if it reaches the ear”“Of the wife of my bosom, will kill her, I fear.”“Did the marriage come off I’m unable to tell!”“From a blow on the cranium unconscious I fell.”“These schemes matrimonial dictated by vanity”“Have landed me here on the verge of insanity!”Thus loudly bewailing, a cottage he spies.Where no cruel warder an access denies.And there in a corner, alone, on a mat,Monumental in misery,— Thakchacha sat!“Ah traitor and craven, ’twas cruelly done,”“Thy comrade deserting, thou treacherous one!”“O frailty of mortals! how falleth the best,”“When the touchstone of peril puts love to the test!"”“Hush, check your emotion!”his champion replies,“For where are we safe from our enemies spies?”“You’ll own, when you’ve heard me,— my confident trust is—”“You’ve done your protector a grievous injustice”!’Tis daybreak, as homeward they ruefully wend,And Kankan his epic thus brings to an end.
On hearing this lampoon upon Baburam Babu, Tarkavagish was furious, and exclaimed:“Ha, ha! this is poetry indeed! Saraswati in the flesh! Kalidas come to life again! What profound learning too has the great poet Kankan displayed! So precocious a boy cannot possibly live long. The metre too,— astounding,— never heard anything like it,— it runs like a nursery rhyme! Now a man who is a Brahman and a pandit to boot will always speak good of a rich man: there is nothing gentlemanly in mere abuse.”With these words, he got up in a rage, and would have left the place, but the assembled pandits expressed their full approval of his words, and urging him to stop and be calm, got him at last by sheer force to sit down again. Another pandit then skilfully introduced other topics, and ignoring what had passed began to sing the praises of Baburam Babu and Madhab Babu. A Brahman, being generally rather dense, cannot easily see when a joke is intended: through constant study of theShástras, his mind moves solely in the region of theShástrasand has no practice in worldly matters. Tarkavagish however was soon mollified and amused himself with the subject in hand.
BECHARAM BABU of Bow Bazar was sitting in his reception-hall, and with him were a few persons singing snatches of songs. The Babu was himself selecting the different subjects, and his selection was a sufficiently varied one: the verses were being sung to the most popular tunes. Many people in the exuberance of their enthusiasm would have rolled about on the floor on hearing such ravishing strains, but Becharam Babu sat there as stolid as a painted marionette. Beni Babu of Bally arrived while the music was still in progress, and Becharam Babu at once stopped it, and said to his guest:“Ah! Beni, my friend! what, are you still alive? Baburam is still nursing his wrath; it is like fire smouldering amid burnt rags. He absolutely refuses to bid pacified. Some unpleasantness was bound to arise out of the affair of Manirampur: it has been an experience for us. It is commonly reported that the family has a bitter enemy, and that he went as one of the bridegroom’s party.”
Beni.—Speak to me no more on the subject of Baburam Babu: the whole affair has annoyed me extremely. I should like to get away altogether and give up my house at Bally: the old Sanscrit saying occurs to me,“What else may not destiny have in store for me?”
Becharam.—Well, such is the way things are going with Baburam: what else can you expect from such a man, with such a counsellor, such companions, and such a son? Yet his younger son is a good boy: how is that? He is the lotus flower on the dung-heap.
Beni.—You may well ask that: it is indeed extraordinary, but there is a reason for it. You may perhaps remember my having told you some time back about Babu Barada Prosad Biswas. Well, for some time past that gentleman has been living at Vaidyabati. I had been thinking a good deal on the subject, and I saw that if Baburam Babu’s youngest son, Ramlall, grew up like Matilall, the family would very soon become extinct, but that here was an excellent opportunity for the boy to learn to grow up a good man. I considered the matter well, and went to the gentleman I have mentioned, taking Ramlall with me. The boy has ever since then exhibited such an extraordinary affection for Biswas Babu that he is constantly at his side: he is very rarely at home, for he regards Biswas Babu as a father.
Becharam.—You did, it is true, once relate to me all the virtues of this Biswas Babu, but, to tell you the truth, I have never heard of a single individual possessed of so many virtues before: how is it, that now he has attained to so good a position, he is so modest, and unpretending?
Beni.—It is generally very difficult for a man to be humble and unassuming who has been accustomed to wealth from his boyhood, and who has never encountered adversity, but gone on steadily piling up riches. A man like this has, as a rule, no perception of the feelings of others: I mean by that, he has no idea what is pleasing or what is distasteful to others, for his thoughts are centred in himself: he considers himself a great man, and his people all encourage him in the idea by extolling his magnificence. Under these conditions pride reaches a fearful height: modesty and kindliness can never take firm root in such soil. It is on this account that in Calcutta the sons of rich men so rarely turn out well. Puffed up by their father’s wealth on the one hand or their own position on the other, they swagger through life, treating all men with contempt and derision. It is calamity and misfortune that alone avail to strengthen man’s mind. The first requisite of man is humility: that quality absent, a man has no chance of either discerning aright or correcting his faults, and without humility he cannot advance in virtue and in worth.
Becharam.—How was it that Barada Babu became so good?
Beni.—Barada Babu fell into trouble in his earliest boyhood, and from that time he used to meditate unceasingly on the Almighty: the result of this constant meditation was that he became firmly convinced that it was his bounden duty to do everything that was pleasing to God, and to avoid what was displeasing to Him even though life were at stake: this conviction he proceeded to carry into practice.
Becharam.—How did he settle with himself what was pleasing and what displeasing to the Almighty?
Beni.—There are two ways of attaining to knowledge, on this subject. First, the mind must be brought under control: to effect this, constant meditation and the steady growth of good principles are necessary. A searching self-examination, a course of severe and steady meditation, may develop the faculty of discrimination between right tad wrong; and in proportion as that faculty is developed, a man will become averse to conduct that is displeasing to the Almighty, and attached to a course that is pleasing to Him. In the second place that faculty may be steadily exercised by reading and reflecting on what good men have written. Barada Babu has left nothing undone that can help to make him good. He has never wandered aimlessly about like ordinary people. When he rises in the morning, he always offers up his prayers to God, and the tears in his eyes show the feelings that rise up in his mind at the time. He then calmly examines his conduct most searchingly, to see whether it has been good or bad. He never prides himself upon his good qualities, but is exceedingly distressed if he detects the very slightest fault in himself. He takes great delight in hearing of the good qualities of others, but he only expresses his sorrow after brotherly manner when he hears of their faults. By such assiduous practice it is that his mind has become pure and serene. Is there anything astonishing in the fact that a man should thus grow in virtue who so subdues his mind?
Becharam.—Ah, Beni my friend, it is most refreshing to hear of such people as Barada Babu! I must have an interview with a man like this, if only for once. How does he spend his days?
Beni.—He is engaged in business most of the day, but he is not like other people. Most men who are engaged in business think solely of position or wealth: he does not think so much of these things: he knows well that wealth and position are but as a drop of water: they may be pleasant to see, pleasant to hear of, but they do not accompany a man beyond the grave: nay, unless a man walks with great circumspection, they may both generate in him an evil disposition. His chief object in engaging in business is to get the means of exercising and putting to the test his own virtues. In a business career, bad qualities such as avarice, ill-will, and want of principle, are brought into prominence, and it is by the onslaught of such enemies that men are ruined. On the other hand, the truly virtuous man is the man who proceeds with circumspection. To talk of virtue in the abstract is an easy thing enough, but unless a man gives an illustration of it in, his own conduct, his words are a sham. Barada Babu is always saying that the world resembles a school. Genuine virtue is the outcome of a thorough discipline of the mind in the business of life.
Becharam.—Surely Barada Babu does not regard wealth as a thing of no account?
Beni.—No, not at all; he by no means considers wealth despicable, but virtue comes first in his estimation. Wealth is only of secondary importance; that is to say, in the acquisition of wealth, due regard must be paid to the maintenance of virtue.
Becharam.—What does Barada Babu do with himself in the evenings?
Beni.—When once the evening has set in, he spends his time in profitable conversation with his family, and in reading or listening to their talk. The members of his family all try to follow his example, observing the excellence of his character. He is so attached to his family that the heartfelt prayer of his wife is that she may have such another husband in all her births: if they lose sight of him even for a moment, his children fret with impatience. Barada Babu’s daughters are as good as his sons. While in many homes brothers and sisters are continually grumbling and quarrelling with each other, Barada Babu’s children never exchange high words: always, whether at their lessons, or at their meals, they converse affectionately together; and they are very unhappy if their parents are at all ailing.
Becharam.—I have heard that Barada Babu is always about in the village.
Beni.—That is quite true. Whenever he hears of any one being in trouble, or in misfortune, or sick, he cannot remain quiet at home. He assists many of his neighbours in manifold ways, but he never even hints it to any one: when lie has done a kindness to another, he considers himself the person benefited.
Becharam.—Ah, friend Beni, my eyes have never looked on such a man, much less have I ever heard him with my ears! Why, association with such a character would make even an old man good, much more help a young boy to grow up virtuous. Ah, my friend! it will indeed be a gratifying thing if the younger son of Baburam manages to grow up a good man.
BARADA Babu had an extraordinary and unusual knowledge of educational methods. He had special acquaintance with all the different faculties and emotions of the mind, and with the methods whereby men may become intelligent and virtuous by the proper exercise of them. A teacher’s work is no light one: there are many who have but a mere smattering of knowledge, and take up teaching just from want of other occupation; good instruction cannot be expected from men of this type. To be a genuine teacher, a man must be thoroughly acquainted with the whole tendency of the mind and all its energies; and he must by calm and patient observation discover and learn the best way to become a really practical guide of youth. To teach in a haphazard fashion, without doing something of this kind, is like striking a stone with akodàli; it may fall on the stone a hundred times, but not a handful of soil will it cut. Now Barada Babu was a man of great acuteness and shrewd observation: he had so long paid special attention to the subject of education that he was well versed in the best methods of instruction: and the learning that was imparted according his system was really solid. As education is now in Government schools, its real end is not attained, for the reason that nothing is done for the harmonious development of the faculties of the mind and the emotions. The scholars learn everything by heart, and consequently memory alone is awakened: the faculty of thought and reflection generally lies dormant, and the idea of bringing the different activities of the mind into play seems not to exist. The chief end of education being to develop the mental powers and qualities harmoniously with the gradual growth of the scholar, one faculty should not be abnormally exerted at the expense of another. Just as the body gets compact and grows well-knit by an harmonious exercise of all the limbs, so the mind is strengthened and the intelligence developed by an harmonious exercise of the sum total of their energies. All the moral qualities likewise should be simultaneously elicited: because one may be brought into play it does not follow that all will be. Reverence for truth, for instance, may be developed, without a single particle of kindliness: a man may have a large element of kindliness in his nature, but no practical knowledge of the business of life. Again, he may be perfectly honest in his business relations, and yet display indifference or absolute want of affection for his father, mother, wife and children; or he may be all that is proper in his domestic relations, but wanting in uprightness in his business affairs. Barada Babu was well aware in fact, that faith in God was the foundation of the due development and exercise of the qualities of the mind, and that they could only be duly developed in proportion as that faith increased; for otherwise the task was as futile as trying to write on water.
Most fortunately for him, Ramlall had become Barada Babu’s pupil, and all his faculties were being harmoniously developed and exercised. Association with a good man is a far more potent factor in developing moral qualities than mere instruction; indeed by such intercourse a mind may be as completely transformed as a branch of the wild plum grafted on to a mango tree. So great is the majesty of a really noble character that even its shadow falling on one that is base and corrupt raises it in time to its own image. By association with Barada Babu the mind of Ramlail became almost a complete reflection of his. With the object of making himself strong, as soon as he rose in the morning, he would take a stroll in the open air; for strength of mind he knew could not exist without strength of body: after his walk, he would return home and engage in prayer and meditation. The only books he read were those the perusal of which promoted the growth of intelligence and good character, and the only persons he conversed with were those whose conversation had the same effect. On merely hearing the name of any good person, he would go and visit him, making no enquiries about his caste or condition in life. So keen was his intelligence that in conversation with anyone he would speak only on matters of real moment: he had no taste for gossip. If anybody spoke on subjects of but trifling importance, he succeeded by force of his intelligence in extracting the pith of the matter, as a fruit-extractor the pulp of the fruit. The steady growth of faith in God, of morality, and of a good understanding formed the burden of his meditations. By such consistent conduct as this, his disposition, his character and his whole conduct became more and more worthy of commendation.
Goodness can never be hid. The people in the village would say to each other:“Ah, Ramlall is the Prahlad of a family of Daityas[26].”In all their griefs and misfortunes he was ever to the front with his help. He did all he could think of to assist any in need of help, by his personal exertions on their behalf, whether with his purse or with his understanding. Old and young, they were all known to Ramlail, and were all his friends. If they heard him abused, it was as though a dart had pierced their ears; if they heard him praised, great was the rejoicing. The old women of the village would say to each other:“If we had such a child we should never let him out of our sight. Oh, what a store of merit must his mother have laid up to have got a son like this!”The young women, observing Ramlall’s beauty and good qualities, exclaimed in their hearts:“God grant that such a husband may fall to our lot!”
Ramlall’s good disposition and character were manifested in manifold ways, both at home and abroad. He never failed in any single particular of his duty towards each member of his home circle. His father, observing him, thought to himself;â“Ah, my younger son is becoming lax in his observances of Hindu religious customs! he does not keep the sacred mark on his forehead, nor use the customary vessels at his prayers, nor even the beads for the repetition of the sacred name ofHori[27]: and yet he does perform his devotions after his own manner, and is not addicted to vice. We may tell any number of lies: the boy, on the contrary, knows nothing but the truth. He is most devoted to his parents, yet never consents to what he thinks wrong, even at our urgent request. Now I find a good deal of duplicity necessary in my business: both truth and falsehood are requisite. How otherwise could I keep up the great festivals that I have constantly to be celebrating in my house, the Dol Jatra, the Durga Pujah and others? Now Matilall may be a wicked boy, but he keeps up his Hindu observances; besides, after all, I do not think he is so very bad; he is young yet, he must sow his wild oats.”Ramlall’s mother and sisters were deeply affected by his many good qualities: they rejoiced with the joy of those who out of dense darkness see light. Matilall’s evil behaviour had had a most distressing effect upon them: bowed down as they had been in shame at the evil reports they heard of him, they had known little ease of mind. Now again there was in their hearts, because of Ramlall’s good qualities, and their faces were lighted up with joy. At one time all the men-servants and maid-servants of the house, getting only abuse or blows from Matilall, had been in terror of their lives: now, softened by Ramlall’s gentle address and kind treatment, they paid all the greater attention to their work.
When Matilall and his companions, Haladhar and Gadadhar, saw this behaviour of Ramlall, they remarked to each other that the boy had gone silly,— must be cracked,— and said to the master of the house:“This brat should certainly be sent to a lunatic asylum: he is a mere child, yet his sole talk day and night is of virtue: it is disgusting to hear an old man’s words in the mouth of a child.”Others of Matilall’s companions would occasionally say:—“Mati Babu, you are in luck’s way: things don’t look promising for Ramlall: he will soon come to grief if he makes a parade of virtue like this: you will then get all the property, and there will be no obstacle to your complete enjoyment. Even if he does live, he will be little better than an idiot. But what can you expect? what says the proverb? ‘As the teacher so the taught.’ Could he find no other master in this wide world that he must get hold of somemantrasfrom an Eastern Bengalee, and go wandering about parading his virtue before the world? If he does this much more, we will send him and his teacher about their business. The canting humbug! he goes about saying: ‘Ah, how happy I should be if my elder brother were to give up the society of his evil companions!’ ‘Ah, if my elder brother were only to frequent the society of Barada Babu, what a good thing it should be!’ Ha ha! Barada Babu indeed,— the dismal old blockhead, a very prince of prigs. Look out, Mati Babu: take care that you do not after all get under his influence and go to him? What, are we to go to school again? If he wishes, let him come to us and be taught: we are very hard up for a little amusement.”
Thakchacha was always hearing about Ramlall, and he began to think the matter over: the one aim of his life was to find a favourable opportunity for making a successful swoop or two on Baburam Babu’s property. So far, most of the suits-at-law had ended disastrously, and he had had no opportunity for such a stroke: yet he never failed to keep on baiting his ground before casting his nets. Ramlall however having become what he was, he could not expect any fish to fall into his net, for however skilfully it might be cast the boy would advise his father not to enter it. Thakchacha saw then that a great obstacle had presented itself in his way and he thus reflected:“The moon of hope must have sunk behind a cloud of despair, for it is no longer visible.”After profound deliberation, he observed one day to his employer;—“Babu Saheb, your youngest son’s behaviour has made me very anxious: I do not think he can be quite right in his mind. He is always angry with me and tells everybody that I have corrupted you: my heart is wounded when I hear this. Ah, Babu Saheb! this is not as it should be: if he speaks like this to me, he may one day speak harshly to you. The boy will doubtless become good and gentle in time, but now he is boorish and rude, and must be corrected; besides, so far as I can judge, you may lose all your property if this course is allowed.”A casual remark may very easily disturb the mind of a man who is naturally rather dense. As a boat in the hands of an unskilful steersman is tossed about in a storm, unable to make the shore, so a dull-gritted man is in almost constant perplexity, seeing only chaos around him: he can himself come to no decision on the merits of any subject. For one thing, poor Baburam Babu was naturally rather thick-headed, and for another, Thakchacha’s words were to him as the sacred Vedas: so he stood stupidly gazing about like a man in a maze, and after a while asked Thakchacha what plan he could suggest. That astute individual replied:“Your boy, sir, is not a wicked boy: it is Barada Babu that is the origin of all the mischief. Only get him out of the way, and the boy will be all right. Ah, Babu Saheb! the son of a Hindu should observe all the ordinances of his religion as a Hindu. A man has need of both good and bad qualities if he is to engage in the business of this life: the world is not all honest: what use would it be to me if I were the only upright man in it?”
Men always regard with approval, as the opinion of a really great mind, language that is in keeping with their own convictions. Thakchacha was well aware that he had only to talk about the observance of Hindu ceremonial, and the preservation of property, and his aim would be accomplished; and, as a matter of fact, it was by such talk that he achieved his end. When Baburam heard the advice Thakchacha gave, he acquiesced at once in it, remarking:“If this is your opinion, finish the matter off at once: I will supply you with any money you may want, but you must work out the plan yourself.”
There was a good deal of discussion of this kind about Ramlall.“Many sages, many saws,”says the proverb. Some said:“The boy is good in this respect:”others would reply:“But not good in this.”One critic complained:“He is deficient in one important quality, which makes all his other excellences go for nothing, just as when a speck of cow-dung has fallen into a vessel of milk, the whole is tainted.”Another retorted:“The boy is perfect.”
Thus time went on. At last it chanced that Baburam Babu’s eldest daughter fell dangerously ill. Her parents called in a number of physicians to see her. Matilall, needless to say, never once came near his sister, but went about saying that a speedy death was preferable to the life of a widow in a rich man’s house; and during the time of her illness, he only indulged himself the more. Ramlall on the other hand was unremitting in his attention: foregoing both food and sleep, and full of anxious thought, he exerted himself to the utmost for the girl’s recovery. But she did not recover, and as she was dying she put her hand on her younger brother’s head, saying:“Ah, brother Ram! if I die, and am born a girl in my next birth, God grant that I may have a brother like you. I cannot tell you what you have done for me. God make you as happy as you wish.”With these words, his sister breathed her last.
BOYS who are at all wild are not to be satisfied with ordinary amusements: they constantly require new and fresh sources of pleasure, and if they do not find what they want abroad, they will return and sit in melancholy brooding at home. Those that have uncles at home perhaps recover their lost spirits, for they can chaff and joke with them to their heart’s content: they will at least go so far as to jest about making arrangements for their last journey to the Ganges, on the ground that they are a burden to the family. But when such is not the case, they are bored to death, and regard the world with the eyes of a man who is sick of life[28]. Passionately devoted as they were to practical joking of all kinds, Matilall and his companions invented ever new pranks, and it was hard to foretell what would be their next. Their thirst for some form of amusement became more intense every day: one kind might occupy them for a day or two, but it soon palled upon them, and they suffered torments ofennuiif nothing else turned up. Such was the way in which Matilall and his companions spent their days. In course of time, it became incumbent on each of them in turn to devise something new in the way of amusement.
So one day Haladhar wrapped Dolgovinda up in a quilt and, after instructing all his chums in their different parts, repaired to the house of Brojonath, thekabiraj. It was thick with smoke from the preparation of drugs: different operations were in progress: powders were being prepared, made up of a number of different ingredients; essential oils were being refined, and gold ground into powder. Thekabirajhimself was just on the point of leaving his house, with a box of his drugs in one hand and a bottle of oil in the other, when Haladhar arrived and said to him:“Oh, sir, please come as quick as you can: a boy is very ill of fever in the house of azemindar, and he seems to be in a very critical state: his life and your fame, you see, are both at stake: you will get undying honour if you restore him to health again. It is thought that he may get all right by the administration of some very powerful drug: if you can succeed in curing him, you will be richly rewarded.”Upon this, thekabirajmade all haste, and was soon at the bedside of the patient.
The young Babus, who were all present, called out:“Welcome, welcome, sirkabiraj, may you revive us all! Dolgovinda has been lying on his bed some fifteen days with this fever: his temperature is very high, and he puffers from terrible thirst: he gets no sleep at night, only tosses restlessly about. Please examine his pulse carefully, sir, and meanwhile refresh yourself by having a smoke.”Brojonath was a very old man, without much education: he was not very skilful even at his own trade, had no opinions of his own, and could do nothing on his own responsibility. In person he was emaciated, with no teeth, a harsh voice, and a heavy grey moustache, of which he was so enamoured that he was always stroking it. He sighed as he looked at the patient’s hand, and sat perfectly motionless. Haladhar then said to him:“Honoured sir, have you nothing to say?”Thekabirajwithout replying gazed intently on the face of the patient, who was glaring wildly about him, lolling his tongue out, and grinding his teeth. He also gave a tug at thekabiraj’smoustache: and as he moved away a little, the boy rolled about and straggled to get hold of the bottle of oil in his hand. The Babus then said:“Come tell us, sir, what is the matter?”Thekabirajreplied:“The attack is a very severe one: there seems to be high fever and delirium. If I had only had news a little earlier, I might have managed to cure him: as it is, it would be impossible even for Shiva to do so.”As he spoke, the patient got hold of his bottle of oil, and rubbed a good handful of it over his body. Thekabirajseeing the visit was likely to cost him dear[29], hurriedly took the bottle away, corked it well, and got up to go.“Where are you going, sir?”They all cried. Thekabirajreplied:“The delirium is gradually increasing: I do not think there is any further necessity for keeping the patient in the house: you should now exert yourselves to make his end a happy one by taking him to the Ganges to die[30].”
As soon as he heard this, the patient jumped up, and thekabirajstarted back at the sight. The young Babus of Vaidyabati ran after him, and as thekabiraj, who had gone on a short distance, stopped dumbfounded and amazed, they began to hustle him, with shouts of“Hori Bol: Hori Bol:”, and one of them threw him over his shoulders, and started for the Ganges. Dolgovinda then came up to him, and said:“Aha my dear sir, you gave orders to have the patient taken to the Ganges: the doctor himself it is who is now being carried thither! I will myself perform the ceremony of putting you into the water, and of then throwing you on to the funeral pyre.”The views of the fickle are ever changing, and so a little later he said:“Will you send me to the Ganges again? Go, my dear friend! go to your home, and to your children, but before you go, you must give me that bottle of oil”. With these words, he snatched the bottle from thekabiraj, and all the young lunatics, smearing themselves over with the oil, leaped into the Ganges. Thekabirajbecame as one bereft of his senses when he saw all this, and thinking that he might breathe again if he could only get away, he increased his pace. Thereupon Haladhar, as he was swimming about, screamed out:“Ho there, respectedkabiraj! I am getting more and more bilious every day: you must give me some of your powders to take: do not run away: if you do, your wife will have to remove her bracelet and be a widow.”Thekabirajthrew down his box of drugs, and hurried home crying,“Alas! alas!”
In the month of Phalgun, as spring comes in, all the trees are coming out in new leaf, and the sweet odour of flowers is diffused around. Barada Babu’s dwelling-house was on the banks of the Ganges: some little distance in front of it was his favourite garden-house, and all round it a garden. Barada Babu used to sit every evening in the garden-house, to enjoy the fresh air and his own meditations, or to converse with any friends who might visit him there. Ramlall was always with him, and was made the confidant of his most secret thoughts, whereby he obtained much good advice. At every opportunity, he would question his preceptor minutely on the means of attaining to a knowledge of the Supreme Being, and to perfect purity of mind.
One day Ramlall remarked to Barada Babu:“Sir, I have a great longing to travel: staying here, it is a constant grief to me to listen to the bad language of my elder brother and the evil counsel of Thakchacha, but my love for my parents and for my sister makes me disinclined to stir from home. I cannot decide what to do.”Barada Babu replied;—“Much benefit is to be derived from travel: breadth of vision is not to be had without it: the mind is enlarged by the sight of different countries, and different people. Much knowledge too is acquired by a minute enquiry into the different customs of the people of different countries, into their habits, and the causes determining their condition, whether good or bad. Association moreover with all sorts of people, causes bitter prejudices to disappear and induces good feeling. If a man is educated only at home, his knowledge is derived from books only. Now education, association with good men, practical employment, and intercourse with all sorts of people, are all necessary to a man: it is by agencies such as this that the understanding becomes clear, and an impetus is given towards the moulding of a good character. But before he sets out on his travels, it is all important that a man should know the different matters he will require to investigate, for without this, travel will prove a mere aimless wandering about, like the circling round and round of an ox when threshing out the grain. I do not go so far as to say that no benefit is to be had from such travelling, that is not my meaning: some benefit or other there must be. But when a man on his travels is ignorant of the kind of enquiries he ought to make, and cannot make them, he does not derive the full benefit of his labour. Many Bengalees are fond of travelling about, but if you ask them for facts about the places they visit, how many of them can give you a sensible answer? This is not altogether their own fault, it is the result of their bringing-up. A good understanding is not to be had all at once from the sky, without some training in the art of observation, enquiry and reflection. In the education of children it is requisite that an opportunity should be given them of seeing models of a great variety of objects: as they look at all the pictures, they will compare one with another: that is to say, they will see that one object has a hand, another has no foot, that one has a peculiar mouth, another no tail; and by such comparison the faculties of observation and reflection will be brought into play and developed. After a time such comparisons will come easy to them; they will be able to reflect on the causes for the peculiarities of different objects, and will have no difficulty in perceiving the various classes into which they naturally fall. By instruction of this kind, assiduity in research is encouraged and the faculty of reasoning exercised. But in our country an education like this is hardly ever given, and as a natural consequence, our wits are muddled and run to waste: we have no instinctive perception of the essential and unessential features of any enquiry. When a question is under consideration, many of us have not even the requisite intelligence to know what kind of enquiries should be made in order that a conclusion may be arrived at; and it is no falsehood to say that the travels of a good many people are but idle and profitless. But considering the education you have had, I should imagine that travel would be of great advantage to you.”
“Now if I do go abroad”said Ramlall,“I shall have to stay for some time in places where there is society: and with what classes, and with what kinds of people, should I chiefly associate?”
“That is no easy question,”Barada Babu replied:“I must contrive though to give you some kind of an answer. In every rank in life there are people good and bad: any good people you may come across you may associate with; but you know by now how to recognise such: I need not tell you again. Association with Englishmen may make a man courageous, for they worship courage, and any Englishman committing a cowardly act is not admitted into good society. But it does not at all follow that a man is therefore virtuous because he happens to be courageous. Courage is very essential to everybody, I admit; but real courage is that which is the outcome of virtue. I have told you already and now tell you again, that you must always meditate on the Supreme Being, otherwise all that you see, or hear, or learn, will only have the effect of increasing your pride. One thing more: men often wish to do what they see others doing; the Bengalees especially, from association with Englishmen, have acquired a false superficial kind of Anglicism, and are filled with self-conceit in consequence; pride is the motive force in all they do. It will do you no harm to remember this.”
They were conversing together in this way when suddenly some police-officers rushed in from the west side of the garden and surrounded Barada Babu. He looked at them sharply, and asked them who they were and what their business with him was. They replied:“We are officers connected with the police: there is a warrant out against you on the charge of illegal confinement and assault, and you will have to appear before the Court of the English Magistrate of Hooghly; we shall have moreover to search your premises for proofs of the charge.”Ramlall rose up at these words, and when he had read the warrant, he shook with rage at the falsity of the charge, Barada Babu took his hand and made him sit down again, saying:“Do not put yourself out: let the matter be thoroughly well sifted. All sorts of strange accidents befall us on earth, but there is no need to be disturbed in mind at all when calamity comes: to be agitated in the presence of misfortune is the mark of an ignorant mind. Besides, I am conscious of my entire innocence of the crime I am accused of: what cause then have for fear? Still the order of the court must be attended to, so I shall put in an immediate appearance. Let the officers search my house, and see with their own eyes that there is no one concealed there.”The police-officers having received this order, searched everywhere but found nothing. Barada Babu then had a boat fetched, and made all his arrangements for his journey to Hooghly. Meanwhile by some good chance Beni Babu arrived at his house, so he set out on his journey to Hooghly, taking Beni and Ramlall with him. Both were somewhat anxious, but by his cheerful conversation on a variety of topics, he soon put them at their ease.
THE court of the magistrate of Hooghly was crowded. The defendants in the different suits pending, the complainants, witnesses, prisoners, pleaders and officers were all present. The majority were restless and impatient, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the magistrate, but he was not yet even in sight. Barada Babu, taking Beni Babu and Ramlall with him, spread a blanket underneath a tree, and sat down. Some of the clerks of the court who were near, came up to him and began to talk significantly about coming to an arrangement, but Barada Babu refused to pay any heed to them. Then, with the view of exciting his fears, they observed:“The magistrate’s orders are very severe; but everything is left to us, and we can do exactly what we think fit: it is our business to draw up the depositions, so we can upset everything by a mere stroke of the pen; but we must have money. An investigation will have to be made, and this is the time it should be done: our best efforts, will be useless when the orders in the case have once been passed.”Ramlall on hearing all this was a little alarmed, but Barada Babu replied quite fearlessly:“Gentlemen, you must do whatever is your duty. I will never consent to give a bribe. I am perfectly innocent and have no fears.”The clerks of the court went off to their places in high wrath.
Presently some pleaders came up and said to him:“We perceive, sir, that you are a very respectable man, and have evidently fallen into some trouble; but you must take care that your case is not lost for want of proper investigation. If you wish to have witnesses prepared, we can supply you with some on the spot: we have every facility for doing so at a trifling expense. The magistrate will be here directly, so seize this opportunity to do what is necessary.”Barada Babu answered:“Gentlemen, you are extremely kind; but even should I have to wear fetters, I will wear them. I shall not be much troubled in mind at that: it will be a disgrace, I know,— I am ready to acknowledge it as such; but I will not walk in the way of falsehood even to save my life.”“Good heavens!”they exclaimed ironically,“here is a man belonging to the Golden Age. Surely King Yudhishthira come to life again!”and they went away laughing quietly to themselves.
It was now past two o’clock and still there was no sign of the magistrate: all were looking out for him as intently as crows on a sacredghât. Some among them said to a Brahman astrologer who was present:“Pray sir, calculate for us whether the magistrate will come to-day or not.”The astrologer at once replied:“Come, tell me the name of some flower.”Somebody mentioned an hibiscus. The astrologer, calculating on his fingers, said,“No, the magistrate will not come to-day: he has business at home.”Believing the charlatan’s words implicitly, they all made preparations to tie up their bundles of records, and got up, saying to each other:“Ah,Ram, Ram!now we breathe freely again, let us go home and sleep.”
Thakchacha had been sitting with four others within the court enclosure, with a bundle of papers under his arm and a cloth over his face: he was now walking about, his eyes blinking restlessly, his beard waving in the breeze and his head bent low. Just then Ramlall’s gaze fell on him and he remarked to Barada Babu and Beni Babu:“See, see! Thakchacha is here! I fancy he is at the bottom of all this, otherwise why should he turn away his head when he saw me?”Barada Babu, raising his head, saw him and said,“I think so too; he is looking sideways in our direction, and moreover whenever his gaze falls on my face he turns and says something to his companions: it seems to me that Thakchacha is our evil genius; as the proverb has it, ‘he is the spirit in thesirishseed[31].’”
Beni Babu was never seen without a smile on his face: his pleasantry was of great service to him in his search for information. He could not refrain from shouting out the name of Thakchacha, but none of his shouts were attended to. Thakchacha had drawn a paper from under his arm and was to all appearance busily examining it: he pretended not to hear and did not even raise his head. Thereupon Beni Babu went up to him, and with his characteristic gesture said to him:“Hallo, what is the matter? What has brought you here?”Thakchacha said nothing, only examined his paper minutely; indeed he seemed to be seized with a sudden fit of modesty. But as he must, he thought, put Beni Babu off somehow or other without answering his question, he replied:“Ha, Babu! The river has risen a good deal to-day, how will you get back? I might as well ask you too why you are here, and why you keep on asking me the same thing. I have a good deal of business on hand just now and my time is short: I will speak with you later on: I will return directly.”With these words, Thakchacha slipped away, and was soon apparently engrossed in some trifling conversation with his companions.
Three o’clock struck: everybody was walking about impatiently. There is no chance of getting business promptly attended to in the Mofussil, and people get utterly weary of hanging about the courts. They were just breaking up when suddenly the magistrate’s carriage was heard approaching. Shouts were at once raised:“The Saheb is coming! The Saheb is coming!”The astrologer looked utterly crestfallen, and people began to say to him:“Your honour’s calculations are somewhat amazing.”“Ah!”replied he,“it must be owing to something pungent that I have eaten to-day that my calculations have been so upset.”The clerks of the court were all standing in their places, and directly the magistrate entered they all bent their heads low to the ground and salaamed to him.
The magistrate took his seat on the bench whistling casually. Hishookabearer brought him hishooka: he put his feet up on the table, and lying back in his chair, pulled away contentedly, now and then drawing out his handkerchief, which was scented with lavender-water, to mop his face. The office of the court interpreter was crowded. Men were hard at work writing out depositions, but as the old proverb has it:“He wins who pays.”The head clerk of the court, thesheristadar, with a shawl over his shoulders and a fine turban on his head, took a number of records of cases and read them out in a sing-song before the magistrate, who all the while was glancing at a newspaper, or writing some of his own private letters: as each case was read out he asked:“Well, what is all this about?”Thesheristadargave him the information that suited his own wishes on the subject, and the opinion of thesheristadarwas practically the opinion of the magistrate.
Barada Babu was standing on one side with Beni Babu and Ramlall, and was perfectly amazed when he heard the kind of judgments that were being delivered. Considering the depositions that had been made in his own case, he began to think that there was very little chance of matters turning out auspiciously for him. That thesheristadarwould show him any favour was in the highest degree improbable, but he knew the old proverb:“Destiny is the friend of the helpless.”As he thus reflected, his case was called on for hearing. Thakchacha had been sitting inside the court: he at once took his witnesses with him, and stood before the magistrate, proud and confident. When the papers in the case had been read, thesheristadarsaid:“My lord, this is a clear case of illegal confinement and assault.”Thakchacha thereupon ceased stroking his moustache and glared at Barada Babu, thinking that at last his end was achieved. In the other cases no questions had been put to the defendants when the records had been read: they had been treated as summarily as goats for the sacrifice; but the magistrate’s glance, as luck would have it, falling upon Barada Babu before he passed his orders, the latter respectfully explained to him in English, all the circumstances of the case, saying:“I have never even seen the person who has been put forward as having been confined and assaulted by me, nor did the police-officers when they searched my premises find anybody there. Beni Babu and Ramlall were with me at the time; if you will be good enough to take their evidence, my declaration will be substantiated.”
Remarking the gentlemanly appearance of Barada Babu and the good judgment that had distinguished his language, the magistrate was anxious to make an enquiry. Thakchacha gave many significant hints to thesheristadar, and he for his own part, seeing the turn things were taking, reflected that he might after all have to disgorge the rupees he had taken, so laying aside all his fears before the magistrate, he said:“My lord, there is really no necessity for hearing this case over again.”Upon this the magistrate pursed his lips in some perplexity and turned the matter over in his mind, cutting his nails the while. Barada Babu seeing his opportunity again explained to him, quietly and in detail, the real facts of the case. As soon as the magistrate had heard him, he took the evidence of Beni Babu and Ramlall, and the charge appearing upon their statements to be manifestly a false one, was dismissed.
The final orders had not been passed before Thakchacha was off as hard as he could run. Barada Babu saluted the magistrate respectfully and went out. When the court was closed, everybody began to compliment him: he paid little heed however to them and manifested no particular pleasure at winning his case, but quietly got into his boat, accompanied by Beni Babu and Ramlall.
THAKCHACHA’s house was on the outskirts of the city: on either side of it were filthy tanks, and in front the shrine of some guardian saint. Inside the enclosure was a storehouse for grain, and ducks and fowls were running about the yard. Rogues of every description were in the habit of assembling at the house early every morning.
Thakchacha could assume many characters in the conduct of his business: he could be gentle or passionate: he could laugh or frown: he could make a parade of virtue or a show of force, with equal facility[32]. When the business of the day was over, he would take his bath and his food, and then sit by his wife and smoke: and as he smoked the tobacco would gurgle and hiss in its well-chased bowl ofBidriware. Their conversation was generally on their mutual joys and sorrows.
Thakchacha’s wife was held in great repute amongst the women of the district. They were firmly convinced that she was well versed in religious ritual and incantations, in the art of making bad qualities good, in mesmerising, in causing even death or timely disappearances, in magic and sorcery, and in fact in every variety of the black art. For this reason women of all classes of life came constantly to her to hold secret converse. An old proverb has it:“As the god, so the goddess,”and Thakchacha and his wife were a well-matched pair: the husband got his living by his wits, and the wife by her reputed learning.
A woman who earns her own living is apt to become somewhat imperious, and her husband rarely receives from her unfeigned respect and attention. Thakchacha had consequently to put up occasionally with his wife’s reproaches. She was now sitting upon a low cane stool, saying to her husband:“You are always roaming about everywhere but at home. What good does it all do to me or the children? You are always saying that you have such a lot of business on hand; is our hunger appeased by such talk as that? Now it is the desire of my heart to dress well and to mix in the society of women of good position, but I never get a glimpse of any money. You go wandering about like a lunatic; do remain quietly at home for a change.”Thakchacha replied somewhat testily:“How can I possibly tell you all the trouble I have had to undergo. Look at my great anxieties, look at all the artifices, intrigues and trickery I have to employ: I have no language to express it all. Then just as the game is on the point of falling into my hands, off it flies again. Never mind, sooner or later it will be caught.”Just at this moment, a servant came to tell them that a messenger was arrived from Baburam Babu’s house to summon Thakchacha, who thereupon looked at his wife and said:“You see, the Babu is continually sending for me: he will do nothing without consulting me. I will strike when the hour is come.”
Baburam Babu was seated in his reception-hall: with him were Bancharam Babu of Outer Simla, Beni Babu of Bally, and Becharam Babu of Bow Bazar: they were all chatting hard. Thakchacha sat down among them as a monkey chief might sit amidst his subjects. Baburam at once greeted him:“Ha, Thakchacha, your arrival is most opportune: my difficulties are as great as ever: I am more involved than ever in these law-suits. Come and tell me some way of preserving my property.”
Thakchacha.—Litigation is natural to a man who is a man. Your misfortunes will all be at an end when your cases are won: why then should you feel alarmed?
Becharam.—Mercy! what advice is this you are giving? Baburam Babu will be completely ruined by your instrumentality: of that there is not the slightest doubt. What do you say, Beni, my dear friend?
Beni.—Some portions of the estate should be sold, I think, to clear off the debts, and some arrangements made for reducing the expenditure: the suits-at-law also should be looked into and cleared off. But our words are wasted, like one crying in a bamboo jungle. Thakchacha’s are the only words attended to.
Thakchacha.—I pledge my word of honour that all the suits that have been instituted at my instigation will be gained: I will clear all the difficulties away. Fighting is one of the necessities of man’s existence: what cause then is there for alarm?
Becharam.—Ah, Thakchacha, how grand is the heroism you have always exhibited! What a magnificent display of courage you made when the boat was swamped! Why it was all on your account that we suffered so on the occasion of the marriage. You displayed great bravery, I must say, in getting up that false charge against Barada Babu. Not one of the affairs of Baburam Babu in which you have meddled but has turned out most prosperously! All hail to you: I humbly salute you! But ugh! my gorge rises at the mere recollection of you and all your works! what more can I say to you? Come, friend Beni, get up and come away: it is no pleasure to me to sit here any longer.