As I was studying that phase of the American mind so richly exhibited

in the Unitarian tracts and books,--the sweet eloquence of Channing,

the astonishing clearness of the arguments of Burnap, the spiritual

insight of Bartol, etc.,--I was drawn very close to America. I

thought these people must be wonders, who have been able to sift out

substantial grains from a mass of chaff. Often with an exulting heart,

I have thanked God that the simplicity of the gospel is not lost,--that

the Christianity of the Apostles did not die under the sentence of the

Nicene Council, but is still alive, in good health, and _ever_

will be, until our Master has brought the whole world to subjection

unto his Father and our Father, and the creation bends its knee

before the throne of his God and our God, in the _name_, or more

distinctly, in the _Spirit_ of Christ.

My interest was not confined to the Unitarians of America, but it

extended to the country itself. I wanted to know about the people,

the customs, government, and prosperity of the country as much as

possible. The _very_ few books which I could get hold of,

containing accounts of America, were eagerly perused; and that portion

of the history of England which speaks of the American Revolution, was

read over and over with a throbbing heart. I felt indignant at the

proceedings of England against America, and in my sympathy suffered

with the American people, who I thought were better Christians than the

English. I prayed for and rejoiced at their prosperity, and determined

to visit them some time. Such was my habit of looking at the map of

North America, that the boys at our school used to joke me, saying,

“There, there is your America!” In our family circle every opportunity

was availed of to speak of the United States. My dear mother, who

rejoices at the prosperity of others, and hates tyranny and injustice,

heard with great pleasure of the American Independence. But hearing

me speak so much and so often of America, the younger portion of the

family, such as my sisters, aunt, etc., would joke me whenever an

opportunity was offered. For instance, if I said, “This cloth is not

good,” “You will find a better one in Amārică,” was their joke.

One bright Sunday forenoon, three of us were coming from Bali to

worship at Mr. Dall’s chapel, and a conversation took place upon the

future welfare of Unitarian missions in India. Our valued friend, Baboo

C. C. Singha, suggested that it would be a grand thing for the mission

if some of us who are so closely connected with the mission would go to

visit the brethren in America, tell them of our needs, offer thanks in

our behalf for the blessing they have sent in the person of Mr. Dall,

and bring home their help and sympathy. As for himself, he said he

could do this errand elegantly, were it not for his wife and children

and his school. I responded to his suggestion, and informed him of my

desire,--that this very thing had been the all-engrossing subject in my

mind. There was a young man, a native Christian, who wished to join me,

and thus we reached the chapel, making suggestions, discussions, and

resolutions on our way.

After the service, Chundy Baboo spoke to Mr. Dall about our wish to

visit the American brethren. He approved of it, looked at us with a

kind heart, and gave us encouragement. There was present with us a

gentleman, Mr. J. M. Hurd, of Clinton, Mass., who promised to report us

to the brethren at home, and to ask the American Unitarian Association

to respond to our wishes.

A few months passed away. Advices from Mr. Dall came to our friend C.

C. Singha, Esq., and he asked us if we were ready, and firm in our

position. I told him that I was firm but not quite ready to take a

decided step, as the circumstances under which I lived were against

my plan. The love for my mother was the crowning obstacle. In India

I never could spend three nights without my mother. From the houses

of my sisters I would come home not caring for rain or storm. Again,

I was very particular about taking my meals among strangers: hardly

could I make my dinner unless my mother was sitting by me. I was shy,

homesick, and unhealthy. One thing frightened me more than others,--it

was the food of the American people. They eat animal food, for which

I was not prepared, although I had no prejudice against it. My taste

is peculiar and sensitive. To eat “rare” beef (which in fact is

raw) is out of the question. I could not bear the flavor of duck’s

eggs, which some Hindoos use. Indeed, the charge which the Hindoos

bring against the native Christians, to the effect that they become

Christians for the purpose of eating beef and drinking wine, would not

be justly applicable in my case. For owing to my peculiar taste and

fastidiousness about food and drink, I can say, that during my two

years’ stay in America, I have not eaten as much animal food as the

Calcutta deists use in a fortnight. I have always been unable to eat

custard, which I am fond of, and plumpudding, if they are mixed with

wine,--not for any superstitious hatred against it, but I could not

bear its smell, which, however concealed under other ingredients, is

sure to encounter the acuteness of my senses. Hence, the good lady whom

I boarded with the most of the time in this country, would not use wine

in her cooking, even at the risk of spoiling things for an American

mouth.

Our friend, the young native convert, said he would come to America,

as he was outcasted and had no parents living, and no new sacrifice

to make. He wrote a beautiful letter to the Secretary of the American

Unitarian Association. He was older than I, and had a considerable

knowledge of English literature and life, having been a great deal with

the missionaries. In his character there is a mixture of childlike

simplicity with matured experience; he is a good-hearted young man.

I rejoiced at his earnestness, and hoped some one would join him in

the undertaking. He was speaking of his intended visit to the United

States to a deistical gentleman who is a great English scholar, the

head teacher of a government school, and well informed about European,

but less so, as it appeared, about American communities. My friend

heard him say that the Americans are a rough people, that most of them

are wild, and walk about with bowie-knives, pistols, and other deadly

weapons,--that their government tramples upon the rights and lives of

millions whom it holds in absolute bondage; and, what is more wicked,

that if a man should dare to speak a word against this unjust, inhuman,

and wicked institution, he would be insulted by the community, tried

and imprisoned, or hung by the law.[34]

At this time I saw a book called Uncle Tom’s Cabin, in the parlor of a

rich native merchant in Calcutta. Not knowing the nature and contents

of the book, I opened it and read the letter which a negro woman wrote

to her mistress before her flight with her child towards Canada,--the

Egypt of the slaves. I read of the pursuit of the master,--her crossing

the river Ohio, the hospitality of the Quaker, etc. I, of course,

took the story as fictitious,--something like the Arabian Nights’

Entertainments, for I _could_ not believe that a man could buy

or sell a human being, whatever might be his color, intelligence, or

position. My friends told me that this book gives a true sketch of

American Slavery. I would not at first believe it, and, calling up all

my good feelings towards the American people, came to the following

decision. Slavery might be existing in America,--it is a large country,

and perhaps among the aborigines, who are wild savages, this system is

prevalent. I hoped, also, to hear that the people of the United States

are diligently engaged in driving away the men-sellers. Sad logic! I

saw the picture of the _master_,--a white man, with coat, hat,

and watch-guard. Even then I could not persuade myself to believe that

this man was a citizen of the United States. I thought it was not

necessary to believe that all the white people are good,--these man,

woman, and baby-sellers are heartless ruffians, whom the laws of the

Christian United States cannot always reach. No! I was mistaken still!

They are the Americans,--the descendants of those who had come over

from England. Finally, I concluded that these slaveholders have no

_women_ among them, as the tender, kind-hearted women would have

put the abominable trade to destruction. To my utter surprise, I was

told by my friends that the slaveholders have their families, churches,

pastors, etc.! God only knows with what a sad shock my heart sank down.

I could not but think that in no portion of the globe had the blessed

religion of Christ been made into a machine to work for the selfish

man, to satisfy his cupidity, as it had been in the United States

of America. These men support, by Christianity, that very system of

bondage which Christianity came to destroy. The parable of the master

releasing his servant from his debt, and of that servant tormenting

his fellow-servant for a small sum he had owed him, came into my mind,

and I realized the truth uttered by those wise lips of Jesus twenty

centuries ago. Mr. Dall told me that there are free States in the

Union. This puzzled me again. Union of _free_ and _slave_

States! It must be a queer Union! No! it cannot be so. St. Paul could

not very well understand the communion of things of contrary nature:

“And what communion hath light with darkness?” etc. (2 Cor. vi. 14–16).

The union of fire and water, light and darkness, freedom and slavery

is impossible. So I concluded that there are good antislavery men and

women in America, as it cannot be that human nature there is totally

depraved; but these States must be pro-slavery, since

“He who friendship with knave hath made,

Is judged a partner in the trade.”

Reading in a small book something like--

“The British flag floats over land and sea,

And beneath it the slave is _free_,”

my joy knew no bounds. Hardly could I read the lines; the tears dimmed

my eyes, and I cried, “Father of the poor, bless the flag of England!

Wave, wave thou mighty flag with the cross on thy bosom, and draw the

low, despised children of God to come under thy protection. Thy charms

melt the iron that binds the feet of slaves! Wave majestically and on

high, that the bond may see thee through the wide country stretching

from Maine to Florida, and from Massachusetts to California!”

After a few months had passed, instructions from the American Unitarian

Association reached Mr. Dall, authorizing him to send a couple of young

men to America, that they might prepare themselves for the ministry

under its care. Mr. Dall asked the young man who had written to the

Association to get ready, and hearing that he could not sail alone,

found another to join him. By and by the first of these began to

make excuses, saying, he would be ready within a year or two, etc.,

while the second stood alone, ready to come provided he could find a

companion. Mr. Dall came to me and laid the affair before me. He did

not urge me, but he reminded me of my promise and inclination to come

to America. I regarded this as an especial call from God, and thus I

prayed: “Father, wilt thou indeed have thy child, who _first_

proposed going to America, carry out the undertaking? I see the cost of

the project: it will deprive me of my mother, sisters, brother, home,

and kindred during my lifetime; yet, if Thou wilt have me make these

sacrifices for the benefit of thy other children, thy will be done.

Enable me, then, to let the dead bury their dead, and to follow the

call of Duty!”

I gave my word to God, through Mr. Dall, and began at once to get

ready, because the call was so sudden that there were only six or seven

days for making the necessary preparations.

I had then been suffering from the effects of a violent sickness,

which had confined me to my bed for twenty-one days, a little while

before. My body was so weak that I could hardly stand long without

holding to something. But this did not frighten me. Within the weak,

unhealthy frame, my moral courage began to move as usual, with vigorous

throbbings, and I determined to sail on the day fixed by my friends.

It required great caution to arrange my things, as it would have been

impossible for me to leave home had any of my nearest relatives known

my purpose. I wrote some letters for my mother, uncle, brother, and

other friends, and hid them under the papers. The contents of these

letters differed according to the person I wrote to; but to no one

did I tell where, why, and how long I should be gone. I begged in my

letters to six different persons that they would take care of my dear

mother,--asking one to visit her occasionally, the second to attend to

her shopping (as the Hindoo high-caste females do not go to stores or

market), a third to read my letters to her, etc.

Three days, I believe, before I left India, my companion and I were

walking on the “_Strand_,” looking at the ships and talking the

matter over. He said the Americans are not trustworthy people,--that

perhaps the captain would take us to some island and sell us to the

savages, etc.

Once more we talked upon the American Slave-Trade. I hear in this

country the pro-slavery people call the Abolitionists fanatics,

affirming that they misrepresent the system, that they exaggerate the

cruelties practised on the slaves by their masters. But the world

beyond the United States does not blame the slaveholders merely for

the true or supposed cruelties practised by them. I hate the system

itself; the very name is a terror to me. As a pea has two pods which

enclose the seeds arranged in order in its womb, so slavery has two

pods, buying and selling human beings, and these enclose in them

vices of all descriptions. They say the slaveholders feed and clothe

their slaves comfortably. This does not justify the system. They do

not deserve our thanks for their kindness to the slaves. Slavery will

be profitable in proportion to the good treatment the _masters_

extend towards the slaves; so that kindness to the slaves is generally

based upon the self-interest of their masters, for which no thanks are

due to them. “If ye love your brethren only what thank have ye? do not

even the publicans so?” Who would thank a farmer that feeds and fattens

his turkeys to make money out of them at the thanksgiving market?

My young friend, with an astonishing forethought, sketched out the

dismal days which would inevitably be our portion if we visited

Christian countries. He informed me of a fact which the Trinitarians

had told him,--that the Unitarians in America are very few in

number--a set of fanatic, daring men, who have no truth, no church,

no fixed organization, etc. This did not frighten me, for I believed

that it is not always the case that truth dwells with the majority.

When God destroyed the world by a deluge, the faith of Noah and his

small household was entirely different from that of the overwhelming

majority, but this made no difference. God approved the truth of this

little band, and rejected others. In regard to the outcast life and its

attendant sorrows, insults, and helplessness, I looked on them with

indifference, believing that there is a Being who knows what I need,

and will provide for me accordingly. In days of sorrows I will lean

towards Him, and be comforted. My good Father is the richest, highest,

wisest, and most merciful Being, so if I trust in him, I shall have no

occasion to regret it. I would not let my heart be troubled with these

things,--with “what shall I eat? what shall I drink? and where withal

shall I be clothed?” and with whom shall I live? “The laborer is worthy

of his hire.” My own dear friends would not keep any social intercourse

with me I know; but God will bring others to me, he will raise kind

hearts to bless and sympathize with me. “When one door is closed

against, hundreds are open to you,” is the Hindoo saying, so I would

follow the call of duty, in hope, courage, and patience; believing that

all things work for the good of him who loves God.

My friend fell back, and I stood alone. Mr. Dall seemed to give up all

hope of sending young men to America, and asked me if I would act like

others. “I have put my hands to the plough and I shall not take them

back,” was my reply.

A rich native merchant of Calcutta had told Mr. Dall that he would give

the passage-money of two young men if they came to America; but as my

young friend fell back, he paid the passage money and other expenses of

one.

The day before my departure I had to go to Calcutta to do some shopping

with Mr. Dall. My dear mother inquired of me the reason of my going to

Calcutta so early in the morning, as I had to go to the school by nine

A. M. I simply said I should probably return in time! but I did not get

home till nine in the evening. Mr. Dall rather injudiciously detained

me in Calcutta, carrying me here and there to see that everything I

needed had been bought. I begged him to dismiss me,--told him to attend

to, and arrange all that was necessary, and it would be agreeable to

me. But he would not. This detention had caused such an alarm in my

house that were it not a true purpose in me to go, I could not have

left home the next morning. I fully realized what the phrase, “wise

like a serpent,” means. As I was passing by the house of a gentleman,

my steps drew the attention of a boy, who cried, “Who are you?” “It is

I, Prosono,” I answered. “Where have you been, uncle? Your mother has

been crying the whole afternoon for you.” With slow steps and anxious

heart, I entered into my mother’s house. “Is it Joguth?” “Yes, mother,

it is I.” I walked into the dining-room to eat my supper, with a heart

full of fear and anxiety. She did not speak a word, but sat by me and

bathed the floor with her tears. I looked towards heaven, and my spirit

whispered, “Father, this is the beginning of the tears that must flow

from those loving eyes of my mother! Kind, loving, affectionate as she

is, I must leave her and follow the call of Him who said, “Who is my

mother?” I desire to be “about my Father’s business,” so strengthen me

to bear this separation. In Thee I recognize a heart more tender than

that of earthly mother. Most High, I would not look _around_ me

in this juncture, but _above_, for all the help I need.” After I

had finished my supper, she spoke, “Child, I heard that you had gone to

America.” This information was given to her by a friend whom I had told

that I should go to America very soon.

I leave the reader to imagine what kind of a night I had. Early in

the morning my dear mother, as usual, went to bathe in the Ganges. A

young lady had given me her ornament to carry to a goldsmith to have

it mended, as I was a friend to the low castes in general. I felt

that I ought to bring the ornament from the goldsmith and return it

to her, because if I did not, the lady would not know whom to ask for

it, and neither would the artist know to whom to return it, as it was

given to him in private. I went to that man, but he was not at home.

In vain I searched for him in several places where he was supposed to

be, and I could not wait any longer, because my mother would expect

me to breakfast. I returned home by half past eight, I believe, took

my bath as usual, and entered into the dining-room for breakfast. The

day before was the fast day of the Brahmun widows. So when my dear

mother sat down to help me she looked very tired, after twenty-four

hours’ entire abstinence from food and drink. I put the things into

my mouth but had no strength to chew them. A deep anxiety, love for

my mother, the thought of separation, seemed to fill my heart, and I

cast side glances at her face, for I knew that if I lived a hundred

years as a Christian, after my return from America, I should not be

allowed to sit at meal on this floor and near my dear mother. She

noticed the uneasy feelings, and asked, “Joguth, what is that cloud

on your face? You look very pale. Are you unwell, child? Tell me what

ails you,--I am your mother. Can’t you confide in me?” etc. I knew not

what to say at first, and answered, “Mother, a young man has a great

many things to think about.” After breakfast I entered into my bedroom

and she followed me there. Not knowing what to take and what to leave,

I walked from one end of the room to the other, putting my hand upon

my clothes, books, pictures, etc. I sat on my bed, and whispered, “No

more will my tired, sleepy, or sick body lie on thy bosom; no more from

thee my voice will rise, in midnight gloom, to the throne of grace;

no more shall I bathe thee with tears, which are counted and known by

Him only who knows no sleep.” My mother said it was almost time for

me to go to school. So I got up and thought I would not loiter about

the room as it would create suspicion in my mother, and perhaps all

my cherished plans and precaution would be crushed and frustrated. I

must go without scrip--without a second suit of clothes--just as I am.

The celestial voice bids me to “let the dead bury their dead;” and so

I must not look at these things, my books, clothing, etc., useful as

they are. God will provide me with all I need; I would “come and see,”

with a filial confidence, how good my Father is. Just as I was, with

one shirt and one mantle on my body, I went out of the room. My mother

came after me, and said, “Child, how long it will take you to learn to

wear your own clothes properly,” and began to button my shirt or outer

garment. I saddened at the thought that on my return from a Christian

country, those fingers that fix my shirt now would not touch _me_.

The last words I heard from her mouth were these, “Joguth, do not eat

confectionaries on the way: you are sick, and can’t digest those rich

things, child. Come right home after the school, and you will find your

supper ready.” “Mother,” thought I, “the supper which you so kindly

wish to prepare for me will be, I am afraid, a two-edged sword for you.

I do not know where I shall take my supper to-night,” etc.

Thus equipped with moral courage, taking no money, nor clothing, but

a trusting heart, I left home and its inmates never to enter therein

again, as my own. I commended my kind mother and other dear friends to

the care of Him, the good Father of all.

In order to make another effort in relation to that young lady’s

ornament, I called at the goldsmith’s house, but with no better

success. A dear young Brahmun friend, who is a hearer of Mr. Dall,

and to whom I had confided my secrets, informed me that if I would go

with him to a public woman’s house, I might possibly find the artist

there. As there was no time to lose, and the ornament must be obtained

and returned to the owner, I agreed to his suggestion. There, on the

Ganges, stood the cottage of sin, and as we knocked at its outer door,

a female voice inquired, “Who are you?” “Please let us go in,” said my

friend. “No,” she said, “first tell me what you want, and then I’ll

see whether I can let you in or not.” “I want to see Ombika for a

minute, and that is all.” “Ombika is not here,” she said, and we heard

her voice no more. “What is to be done?” I said. “You come with me,”

my gallant friend replied; “there is a large opening on the wall which

would be a capital approach for us to get into the house.” I hesitated

a little, but he said I must do it, under the necessity,--that these

cunning girls must be intruded upon that way. Slowly we walked to the

opening, which was large enough to admit us both into the house. We

found the artist there, and I asked him to return the ornament to me.

He began to make excuses, said it was not quite ready, but would take a

couple of days to finish it. “Friend,” said I, “I cannot wait a couple

of hours for it. I am going to a distant place, so please return it to

me just as it is.” He talked and argued about the matter, and wanted to

know how long I would be gone. Of course, I could not tell him directly

about my plans. He returned the ornament partly done. It would not have

been safe _at all_ for me to have returned it to the owner for two

reasons: first, that she lives so near my mother that if I went to her

my mother would the first person to see me, and her fears and surmises

would be doubly confirmed by my untimely return from the school;

secondly, the young lady would feel surprised to find her jewelry half

finished, and suspect my proceedings, and inform my mother accordingly.

“Be wise as serpents and harmless as doves,” is a saying full of

wisdom. I called a boy, whom I knew to be very good and reliable, and

said, “Will you take this package, to P----, to-morrow, and tell him

that I desire him to give it to T----?” I charged him to see P---- the

next day, because if the young lady received her ornament the same day

the matter would be worse,--my mother would know it, and my friends

would at once start in pursuit of me. The good boy performed his

mission satisfactorily I heard. I begged my friend, who helped me to

find the goldsmith, to go to my mother two days after I had left, and

tell her about the letters I had written and hidden in my desk. While

passing by an apothecary’s I remembered that I owed him a little money,

and paid him with the small silver pieces I had in my pocket.

Much as I wished to reach Calcutta before the high tide, I could not.

I asked the boatmen to land me at Bag-bazzar, at the lower part of the

city, whence I proceeded to Mr. Dall in a covered Palkee, or Palanquin,

as foreigners call it.

Desiring to get a musical instrument (a flute), that I might practise

with it on board the ship, and thereby cheer up the lonely hours, I

tried hard, but could not succeed. Mr. Dall said he would bring me one,

but, whether for want of money or of time, I do not know, he failed

to do it. As I must embark right off before my friends could arrest

me, Mr. Dall took me to his room and asked me to wear pants, cap, etc.

O, I _hated_ to do it, fearing the people, even the low-caste

boatmen would laugh at me. I told him that there was no necessity for

my wearing this strange costume here in Calcutta, that if I had got

to do it, I would do it at sea. He would not hear my reasons. I told

him again that the English dress would not help me to become a good

Christian,--it would only make me look like the strangest and ugliest

creature in the world. Fortunately my logic prevailed, and we got in a

carriage with our respective dresses.

The ship Sabine, that brought me to this country, belongs to Mr.

Tredick, of Portsmouth, N. H. Not knowing where she was lying at

anchor, we came down the river as far as Bishops’ College and had to go

back again. She was near Baboo ghaut. Leaving me on board the ship,

Mr. Dall returned to the city with a view to bring the necessary things

for the voyage. After dark, our party of four sat at the table, and

another, the cabin boy, waited upon us. They all drank wine and ate

smoked fish. The smell of these two things was so disagreeable that I

thought that they were fit only for savages. One of the party, a young

man with a large round face (the second mate), began to sing comic

songs and make music with his feet, striking them on the cabin floor.

The words of one of his songs were like these--

“I love her, but she doesn’t love me!

She loves another. O dear, who can that be?”

By and by the captain, Mr. Hendee, came on board with a few friends,

and they all entered into an adjoining cabin. I retired to sleep, but

these gentlemen made such a noise the most part of the night that

I doubt whether the people within half a mile had any rest at at

all. The corks coming out of the wine-bottles with loud reports, the

gentlemen knocking on the floor, their songs and imperfect utterance of

“Fa-re-well,” all these filled my heart with new and various thoughts.

I feared if these men were to be on board all the way, I had better

learn Christianity in Calcutta, and not take the voyage to America.

The first part of their singing was very good I enjoyed one song

especially,--

“I am bound for the land of Canaan,” etc.;

but as they got under the influence of new or old wine, their songs

changed into--

“For to-night we will merry, merry be.”

The knocking on the floor grew so violent that I feared they would

either hurt their feet or break the boards; and a Sanscrith saying

came into my mind: “The animal with long, pointed horns and sharp

teeth, and a man with wine in his stomach are to be avoided alike.”

By midnight I heard some one vomiting, and remembered the saying that

the pleasures arising from dissipation and sensuality very soon bring

sickness and misery.

Early on the next morning, Wednesday, January 27, 1858, Mr. Dall came

on board with all the necessaries for a four months’ voyage, and went

down as far as the mouth of the Ganges, returning to Calcutta on Friday

by the steam propeller that brought our ship down. Among various kind,

useful, and fatherly counsels, he warned me not to learn the profane

language that is freely used on board the ship, and wanted to know if

I had any farewell words to say to him. “Take care of my dear mother,”

was my charge to him, which he has carried out in Christian ways. He

also made a little blank-book for me which he called my “Journal,” with

the following advice and instructions:--

JOURNAL.

“I left Calcutta on Wednesday, January 27th, 1858, for Boston, United

States of America.

_Resolves._

“(1.) I will read the Bible as often as I can, and stay my lonely heart

on God by faith, prayer, and trust in Jesus Christ.

“(2.) I will daily pray the Lord’s Prayer, and rest all my anxieties

on ‘Give us THIS DAY our daily bread,’ and on ‘THY WILL, not mine, BE

DONE.’

“(3.) I will try to read the Bible _through_, from Genesis to

Revelation, on this voyage, and will make a record, if possible, of the

best thoughts as they suggest themselves to me.

“(4.) In the Bible I shall look for my comfort; in the history and

devout trust of the patriarchs, prophets, and apostles, from Abraham

(Genesis, 12th chapter),--‘The Lord said to Abraham, Get thee out of

thy country, from thy kindred and from thy father’s house, and thou

shalt be a blessing,’--through the Psalms of David, not forgetting the

25th and 26th. ‘The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want,’ and ‘They

that sow in tears shall reap in joy. He that goeth forth and weepeth,

bearing precious seed (i. e. of faith, hope, and holy purposes), shall

doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves (fruits of

his toil) with him.’ God grant it may be so with you, Philip, my son,

my firstborn in India. God help you! Do you struggle, with God’s help,

to be an honor and praise to your family, your city, your country,

and your friends, both in India and America, more and more as long

as you live, and when called to depart out of this world, may it be

to dwell with pure-minded spirits,--with the holy angels, and with

the just made perfect in heaven. Read the _Old_ Testament, but

make the _New_ your refuge and your rest. Trust in Jesus’s call,

‘Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden and I will give

you rest;’ ‘Take my yoke upon you and learn of me, for I am meek and

lowly in heart, and you shall find rest unto your souls.’ Matt. x. 29.

And again, I will have perfect faith in Jesus’s saying (as in Matt. x.

29), ‘Verily I say unto you, There is no man that hath left house or

brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or lands for my sake and

the Gospel’s, but he shall receive a hundred fold now in this present

time, houses, and brethren, and sisters, and mothers, and lands, with

persecution, and in the world to come eternal life. But many that are

first shall be last and the last first.’

“Often say,--

“‘Jesus, I my cross have taken,

All to leave and follow thee;

Naked, poor, despised, forsaken,

Thou from hence, my all shalt be.

“‘Perish every fond ambition--

All I’ve gained, hoped, or known,

Yet how rich is my condition,

God and heaven are still my own!’

“_A True Christian._

“Let me strive to be a student and educator; a worthy representative

of my country; an ambassador from Asia to America; a mediator between

the East and the West; the bearer of pure and precious hopes between

two opposite sides of the world; a man of faith and love; a student of

human life; a seeker of knowledge in distant lands; a follower in the

steps of prophets and apostles, of Abraham and St. Paul; a practical

believer in human brotherhood; a pilgrim on the face of the world,

seeking pearls of knowledge; a servant, minister, and angel of God; a

man whose name is written in heaven; a man appointed by God to bring

together the ends of the earth; a leader and a pioneer to begin the

great work of union between the sincere and devout spirits of America

and Bengal.

“_Things to be done if possible while at Sea._

“(1.) Get the list of the Books of the Bible by heart so as to

facilitate reference to them.

“(2.) Make all the progress I can in my Greek Grammar, that I may thus

come into nearer contact with Jesus’s words of everlasting life.

“(3.) Translate into Bengalee (prose or verse) those great thoughts of

the Bible which move me most deeply. Above all, put them into Bengalee

hymns, and so prepare in due time an original Bengal Hymn-Book.

“_Direction of Letters._

“To the care of the Rev. C. H. A. Dall, Calcutta, India, Overland Mail,

via Southampton.

“When you reach Boston, you will find letters from Calcutta waiting you

at the office of Dr. Miles, which is No. 21 Bromfield Street, Boston.

“Ask any Boston friend to forward your letters, enclosed in his, and he

will do it. Mrs. Dall will do it once a month, if you wish.

“_I will remember daily_,

“(1.) To _speak out_ clearly every word I wish to say, and look

straight in the face of the person I speak to.

“(2.) To say promptly, ‘Yes, sir,’ ‘No, sir,’ to every question.

“(3.) To walk my full number (200, 300, 400,) of rounds on deck;

exercise essential.

“(4.) When any one speaks to me my first duty is to _look at him_

with respectful attention.

“(5.) To practise writing my name after a good copy.”

* * * * *

In regard to carrying out the above rules successfully, the reader will

understand it perfectly, when I say that as to the _first_, the

ship rode on the blue waves of the Bay of Bengal, I felt sea-sick, and

got rid of it only on the day when I arrived in Boston. Nearly _four

months_, this great monarch, the most disagreeable of all diseases,

had an undisputed sway over me. Occasionally, in very mild weather,

I could walk a little and move about on the deck. My constitution is

very peculiar,--I shall never get used to the sea. It seems to me

that if I were forced to spend my life on the sea, it would be under

constant sea-sickness. A trifling motion makes me sea-sick. I have

frequently been made sick in riding in stages. On my way from Fitchburg

to Templeton, by stage, I felt so miserable, that a good lady, Mrs.

J----, kindly invited me to come to and spend the night at her house.

It is customary in this country to offer the “rocking-chair” to a

guest. I always refuse it with thanks, for fear of its making me

sea-sick. On board the ship I could sit at the table at regular hours

most of the time. Knowing that nothing but _land_ would cure this

ugly feeling, I hoped that some provision, or water would be used up,

and thus compel the captain to touch at some place for fresh supplies.

But he had enough of everything.

While we were in the river our table was furnished with fresh

vegetables and fish, but as we launched forth into the ocean, we had

almost everything salted. Never accustomed to eat meat I found it

difficult to get along, as most of the edibles on board consisted

of salt meat of various kinds. Two days in the week we used to have

pea-soup and rice and curry. To be true and just to the Sabine, I

should say she had a large supply of provisions of various kinds,

which an American would regard as “real _treats_.” But I could

not relish most of them, being a stranger to their name and nature.

Mr. Dall had a large bunch of bananas, some tamarinds, etc., for me,

which became very serviceable to me for a fortnight. As the Hindoos are

taught to share eatable things with their friends, I gave some fine

bananas to the mates, the boy, etc. After a week I offered them some

again; but one partook of them, and the other refused them with thanks.

Now once, at midnight, a large, dirty hand was thrust into my

state-room and pulled some bananas from the branch; I did not know who

that hand belonged to. The same hand helped itself with my fruits again

the next day, and I could not help smiling. When I had offered them to

the brethren, they felt delicate and declined to accept them, and at

midnight came to help themselves. I took the bunch out and distributed

its contents among the sailors.

The captain, Hendee, was _very_ kind to me. As I was the

_only_ passenger, and had none to speak to (as the sailors are not

allowed to speak to any while on duty), I found Captain Hendee very

agreeable. Mr. Dall could not have put me into the care of a better

man than Mr. Hendee. He was a friend, teacher, guard, and pastor to

me. Every day he would take notice of what I had done, how much I had

read, what exercise I had taken, etc. Occasionally he would explain

some difficult passages in the New Testament and other books. When less

sea-sick, in mild weather, I used to read from the following books:

Waverley Novels, the Life of Napoleon, Pope’s Poetical Works, The

Tower of London, Paul and Virginia (in Bengalee), Dr. Kane’s Arctic

Explorations, the Bible, and Channing, etc. Besides, Captain H. had

American papers, such as Gleason’s Pictorial, the Olive Branch, and the

New York Ledger. This last paper did not give a good idea of American

people. Its stories I found to be fictitious love affairs, sentimental.

I felt surprised to think that such stories were put into the hands

of the boys and girls,--these will certainly corrupt them, and create

romantic, short-lived affections in their hearts. The Hindoo parents

do not read nor tell the stories of love affairs to their children,

because the influence of such things is very bad upon the young. They

fill their hearts with strange passions, which do not belong to them.

Hence, in this country I hear so much of elopement, coquetry, strange

unions between a boy of eighteen or twenty, and a woman of fifty!

Mr. Hendee undertook to teach me American etiquette, the discipline

at the table, in the parlor, etc., but he is such a jolly man that

whatever he taught I took for fun. He would ask me every morning, and a

great many times during the day, “Philip, how do you feel?” My answers

varied according to the true state of my feelings. While sick, I said

so, and while cheerful, I said _so_. But this would not satisfy

him. So he taught me to answer him as follows: “Philip!” “Sir.” “How do

you feel?” “All serene.” Then he would respond, “_Salubrious_.” He

told me, in fun, no doubt, that in Divinity Schools they make such long

prayers, that the students find their limbs stiff, having had to kneel

down so long. I hoped my friends would not put me in a school like

those, that would cause me to go home lame after prayers.

We had a remarkably pleasant voyage. Very few storms were experienced

on our way. One day, after a severe squall, Captain Hendee sat on the

gangway, tired yet cheerful, and, as usual, cried, “Philip, how do you

feel?” He asked me what I thought of the late squall, and hearing me

speak indifferently of it, said, “Philip, you are just like a baby that

knows not what is going on before him,” etc. And then he began to sing,

“From all that dwell below the skies,” etc. He would not hear any one

swear in the cabin, and often would say, “Mr. C., (the second mate,)

don’t, don’t.”

Every soul on board was kind to me, and I trust I was not less to them.

“Antoon,” a Spanish sailor, hearing that I did not eat salt meat, gave

me a sharp exhortation. “You are no good Christian! Me, the captain,

Mr. B., etc., are good Christians. We eat beef, ham, pork, plenty,--we

fat,” putting his hand on his stomach.

After a voyage of four months, we reached Boston on the midnight of

24th of May, 1858. Early in the morning, I got up from my bed and

waited for some friend, who, as Mr. Dall had told me, would come

to take me into the town; but none came, not knowing, as yet, of my

arrival. One by one the sailors left the ship, and I was on board

with “Antoon.” The whole day passed, yet no Unitarian friend made his

appearance to welcome me to the distant land. Not knowing what to eat,

hungry and low, I sat on the gangway to gaze upon the harbor. I was

delighted to see “Dorchester Heights,” which I took for a mountain, as

I had not seen any high ground before. Looking at the buildings around

the harbor, I believed they were churches, on account of the chimneys

which our Calcutta houses do not have. In order to spend the time and

forget hunger, I began to draw a sketch of the Navy Yard, East Boston

Ferries, etc. As the demands of nature must be met, I took a piece of

hard, square cracker and a little brown sugar, and made a supper of

them. In the evening I left the ship and ventured to go on shore in

East Boston, although “Antoon” feared I should get lost. Going a little

way I came to a place where a young couple were sitting near the water.

The girl went down to see whether the water tasted salt or fresh. I

knew then that, “even in heaven there are fools.” Anybody who has even

read of or seen the sea and its ways, knows, I am sure, that the water

therein is salt.

Next morning Mr. Hendee came on board and inquired if I were crying.

I told him that my heart was crying indeed. He sent his boy to escort

me to the office of the American Unitarian Association. As I passed

through the streets I was struck with the neatness of all around me,

except the dirty tobacco-chewers and cigar-smokers. The sidewalks were

novel to me. Although there are thousands of foreign or Western women

in Calcutta, I never was so near to them as to have any idea of their

dress. The dress of the females struck me, and I guessed there must be

some framework within, as it could not be that a woman would have such

large limbs. I feared to walk too close to a woman, lest by coming in

contact I should break her framework. But they walked so fast by me,

that I felt thankful that their frameworks did not tear my coat.

By eleven o’clock the boy brought me to the office where a young man,

Mr. Fox, spoke to me kindly, and said if I waited a couple of hours

I might meet Dr. Miles, the Secretary of the Unitarian Association.

There came in an elderly-looking gentleman, who, being informed of

my mission, conducted me to the church in Bedford Street, in which

the meeting of the Association was in session. I stood in a small

room leading into the church, and the gentleman took the letter of

“greeting and introduction” from me, and went in and put it in the

hand of the Rev. Dr. Lothrop, the President. I heard my friends say

that only a half an hour before my appearance, the Secretary had told

the congregation that he was expecting me every day. I was led to the

platform, the President received me by his right hand in the name of

the American Unitarian Association, and gave me a chance to speak a few

words, which I did. My appearance was so sudden, that I did not know

what to say until I opened my mouth; but he who assured his disciples

that they would receive words from above, favored me with the promised

gift. The meeting looked so solemn to me, that the impression it made

in my mind shall never be forgotten. The Secretary of the American

Unitarian Association took me to his house, where I stayed nearly a

week. I had dreamed while on the sea that the secretary was a man of

light complexion, without a beard, moustache, or whiskers, that he had

a daughter seventeen years old, and I would stay at his house. These

proved to be really true in every respect. In the evening of the same

day I attended the Unitarian Festival in the Music Hall, where again I

had to speak a few words to the brethren.

I had read about Christian fathers, mothers, and families, while in

India, but now at Dr. Miles’s I realized all. The gathering of each

member of the family at the same table, the exchange of kind greetings

between the sexes, their songs and innocent frolics, made me think that

these, when perfected and guarded with unfeigned simplicity, and done

absolutely for the glory of God and the good of man, are what might be

angelic.

After staying a week at Dr. Miles’s, I went to board with Mrs. M----,

only a few doors below his house. This excellent family did not treat

me as a boarder, but adopted me as one of its members. Good Mrs. M----

says she lost her son of my age, who died at sea; so she regards me

as her son. Not merely in words did they say so. In their untiring

attention to my wants, in their perpetual anxiety about my welfare,

they have shown a mother’s and sister’s hearts. They have done unto me

what I could not expect from them. They resorted to every available

means to make me comfortable. I owe my health and freedom from sickness

mainly to their care. I did not know well the flexibility of the

weather here, so could not dress accordingly. I did not learn to dress

properly, nor even know the names of many pieces of clothing until now.

It would take a long time if I entered into details of their kindness.

So I will pass on to notice my other homes and friends in America. The

Executive Committee of the Association desired me to spend the summer

months in studying with a country clergyman. Accordingly, on the 6th

of July, Dr. Miles took me to Rev. James Thurston’s, in Lunenburg,

Mass. Of course I felt very much confused at the frequent removals

from place to place, as such a custom is unknown to the Hindoos. This

is a charming place in regard to scenery, and, above all, I liked it

for its many hills, which I am fond of. The kindness of the family

soon cured my home-sickness for Boston, and I entered into my studies

with a cheerful heart. There was one source of pleasure here which I

did not have in either of my two Boston homes: that is children, of

whom our Blessed Teacher said, “Of such is the kingdom of heaven.” The

inhabitants of this quiet place, both my Unitarian brethren, as well

as other denominations, were very kind to me. The Orthodox and the

Methodist clergymen, too, manifested much interest in my mission.

The Methodist brother has more than once cordially invited me to speak

to his people. The first time I spoke in the Methodist church I had

rather a novel experience. It was while I was speaking that a brother

close by shouted “_Amen!_” I thought it was a hint for me to stop,

as in Unitarian churches, “Amen” is only uttered by the ministers

at the close. As it was a wrong place to stop I made a long pause,

thinking that if they really wished me to stop the pastor would rise

and offer benediction; but nothing of this kind happened. I proceeded,

and to my utter confusion, “Amen! Amen!” from different parts of the

church. Immediately I stopped and was going to ask pardon, while “go

on, brother, go on,” etc., revived my sinking spirits. At the close the

good brethren explained to me what they meant by “Amen.”

On the second of October I removed to Boston, to Mrs. M----’s, in

Allen Street, and there stayed until the twentieth of January. Then

my course was toward Medfield, Mass., a place not so charming as

Lunenburg, but it has more people in it. My host and teacher here was

Rev. S. W. Bush, who is said to be, and I am sure is, an excellent

scholar and good Christian. As my stay with him has been longer

than with others in this country, I had a good chance to notice his

fatherly love for me, and his sanguine interest in the cause of Truth.

Every morning and evening, while at home, his prayer has unceasingly

risen to the Throne of Mercy for my welfare, and for the success of

the Gospel in all countries. His wife, as far as I can judge, is a

remarkable woman, social, refined, wise, literary, and good. Both

the husband and the wife have contributed much towards my mental and

spiritual culture. The people in this town of Medfield were kind to

me, a stranger, and nothing has happened during my sojourn among them

to pain my feelings. Besides Mr. Bush and wife, there were a good old

lady and daughter,--the owner of the house we lived in, who were not in

the least slow to confer their blessings and helps whenever I needed

them. The other clergymen of the place, one a Baptist and the other

Orthodox, were not wanting in the spirit of love in their acquaintance

with me. Our good brother, Rev. Mr. Sewell, deserves my regards and

notice too. He is a Unitarian clergyman, preaching to the Society in

Sharon. Besides his ministerial labors he does a great deal to promote

the welfare of his fellows, and is connected with several beneficent

institutions. He is an experienced farmer, a judicious manager of

the schools, and a good, kind gentleman. I have had the pleasure of

spending several happy hours with this Christian man.

In order to spend the “second winter,” which is trying to those from

warm climates, in Boston, as well as to receive instruction from the

clergymen there, I removed to Boston, where I stayed till the day

appointed for my start for India, Monday, the 11th of June, 1860. I

cannot drop my pen here without recognizing the kindness of my other

dear friends to whose care my Father has committed me. I hope the

reader will not regard me impertinent if I notice some of my friends

by their names. I know there are others in Boston and in other places

in the Union, whose hearts beat in Christian sympathy for me, who

have shown their interest in various _material_ ways. As they

do not tell me their names, I cannot enjoy the happiness of thanking

them personally. My Father who knoweth all and “seeth in secret

shall reward” them openly. Being absent from my dear mother, I first

recognized a motherly affection in the heart of Thomas Gaffield, Esq.,

of Boston. I cannot call his love and interest in me by any other

name, as they were not common nor temporary. During my stay in this

country, whether in Boston or in other places, he has exhibited an

unabated interest in me, has attended to all my personal affairs, and

I sincerely hope, while I am gone to work for God, his heart will find

its way to India. His Christian wife and sisters have been equally kind

and attentive. Mrs. G----, of Concord, Mass., will be remembered ever

for one among many other things. After my arrival in this country,

Dr. Miles removed me from place to place as a raw chess-player does

his Knight. My other friends did not have the opportunity of knowing

whether I had all the clothing that I needed. The garments I had

already were either too loose or too tight. Uncomfortably as I felt,

I knew not to whom to go for relief. But there is one who is not

unmindful of even the trivial wants of his children. He whispered to

his noble daughter in Concord, and she, with other kind young ladies,

made me comfortable clothing. Her interest for me did not drop down

with her needle and thimble, but is fresh, and will be, I trust, as

long as I stand a worthy recipient. The Christian ladies of Rev. Mr.

Muzzey’s Society in Newburyport, deserve my hearty thanks for their

sympathy shown me in different ways. Besides the contributions given

for my benefit, these daughters of God worked fancy articles and held a

fair, the proceeds of which were given for my personal comfort.

That noble woman, Mrs. L. M. Child, favored me with her acquaintance

lately, and I might name many other kind friends. I deem it a privilege

and honor to have become known to such persons. Reluctantly I pass

by my excellent friends and earnest Christian helpers, such as Rev.

Messrs. Hale, Bartol, Winckley, King, Ellis, Clarke, etc. The last

friends that my Father brought to me are Mr. and Mrs. Spring, of

Eagleswood, N. J. Since I became acquainted with them I believe that

this gentleman is really “_Spring_.” His heart knows no winter.

Such is his pleasant appearance and such are his Christian graces, that

in a few moments I felt myself drawn as closely to him as if I had

known him always, and as if his heart was my “OLD HOME.”

The little children even have been kind to me and brought me their

little presents. The first gift which I received in America, a handsome

Bible, was from a little thing, Miss Lucy Sands, whom I called in the

language of Bishop Heber, “Golden Sands.” A little girl in Newburyport

sent me twice some copper and silver pieces, making fifty cents in all.

She is the daughter of an Orthodox divine. A little child like this, so

full of love and kindness in her heart, does not look like a “totally

depraved” creature, although her father’s theology would call her such.

If my paper has no room for other kind friends, or my pen has forgotten

to chronicle their names, yet I know my heart has room for them all

and will never forget them. Their names have been recorded in the Book

of God, who will reward them abundantly for their kindness toward

one who is a stranger, and an outcast for the sake of the Truth.

The benediction of our Master will certainly be pronounced upon them

saying: “Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared

for you from the foundation of the world,” for “Inasmuch as ye have

done it unto one of the least of my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”

FAREWELL!

BROTHERS AND SISTERS IN THE FAITH:--

The time has come for me to bid you farewell. The circumstances under

which I came here just two years ago, and the circumstances under which

I return to India, are quite different from each other. I came with

fear, weakness, and low spirits. I go with courage, strength, and hope.

I came here a runaway from the Hindoos, without scrip, or a second suit

of clothes, but go with all the necessary help with which you have

provided me.[35] I came to a strange land, with little hope of finding

friends, and I go now with the pleasant memories of many friends, whose

hearts, prayers, and sympathies will accompany me in my labor in the

harvest of the great King.

I have availed myself of every opportunity to improve, to store my mind

with useful information. But I have studied or read very few books

during my stay among you. The main subject of my study has been Human

Nature in its different editions and volumes. The only possible way of

knowing God and his righteousness is through human nature. The image

beareth the likeness of the original,--the son inherits his father’s

nature in a degree; so our common Father manifests himself in his

child, man. Corrupted, mistaken, sinful as he is, you will find a great

deal in him to remind you of his Father. In us there are only extracts

from the sacred subject, God; but in our Elder Brother it is complete.

Whatever we are permitted to know of God, and as much as is necessary

for our life, comfort, and salvation, we may learn in the great volume

of humanity to which Christ gave “the finishing stroke.”

My friends had very many fears about my coming. First, I should return

to India with the vices and dirty habits of this country, such as

drinking wine and spirits, smoking cigars, etc. Second, I should not

be able to stand the severe winter of this country. Third, being among

the clergymen, who are said to be more sectarian than their people, I

should go home a narrow-minded Christian. But I am happy to say, as

far as my near-sighted eyes can see, that I stand above these fears.

I never was in the habit of drinking wine or using tobacco in any

form, and in this country I have carefully avoided these dirty things.

Eating much or little meat is another ugly habit in the opinion of

the Hindoos, and the native converts are often charged with becoming

Christians simply for the purpose of eating “cow and hog.” Although I

have no prejudice against meat, yet I presume that owing to my peculiar

taste, I have not eaten as much meat in two years, as a boy or girl of

ten in New England would eat in six weeks, especially if “Thanksgiving”

day should fall within them.

Having had no idea what an American winter was, I came unprepared; yet

I have not suffered in the least in these two years. The very coldest

days you had in the winter before the last, I rode in an open sleigh

over the hills of Lunenburg, without anything to cover my ears. In the

last winter, on the second of January, I rode in a similar conveyance

from Medfield to Boston with no protection for my ears. Thus, I have

passed unharmed through real winter days. Again, the good husbandman

who brought me a tropical plant from his garden into this part of

the world, put me in the green-house of your hearts, whose warmth, I

perceive, is as genial as that of the glorious luminary that shines

over the land of my fathers. Brothers and sisters, your hearts never

stood below zero in my case, never reached the freezing-point, but

always were warm, affectionate, kind.

In regard to the narrow, sectarian feelings of a bigot’s heart, I think

I have very little to fear. I do not condemn nor hate _any_ body

for his creed; yet, as a firm believer in the undivided Unity of our

God, I differ very much from some others. But I pray to God that I may

daily learn to love all his children. I like the creed-makers but not

their creeds, if they contain anything that is absurd and untrue. I

trust I have within this slender frame a heart whose commodious hall

can accommodate Unitarians, Trinitarians, Mohammedans, and Hindoos; for

He who has given it to me has given it on purpose that it might hold

all His children.

My visit, on the whole, has been a satisfactory one. Nothing seriously

disagreeable has happened to injure my health, heart, or usefulness. No

country has a canopy of clear sky over it always, no heart is beyond

the reach of sorrows. The dark clouds have hung over my head, and

thunders have rolled noisily, yet my earnest eyes have seen a clear

firmament beyond, and I can say with fulness of heart,--

“In trouble and in grief, O God,

Thy smile hath cheered my way,

And joy has budded from each thorn

That round my footsteps lay.”

The practical confidence in God’s parental care is a source from which

I draw consolation, courage, and strength. May we all truly believe

that our Father is good, and that his whole counsel aims for the

eternal welfare of his children. My second source of joy, courage, and

hope is my “confidence in man.” I do not wish to loose my trust in him.

If I am deceived by ninety and nine, I would still have confidence

in the remaining one. Thus with such views of God as a good, loving

parent, and with such feelings toward man as a trustworthy brother, I

hope to make my way while a sojourner in this beautiful world of God.

In this connection I would ask pardon if I have in any way pained,

offended, or done injustice to any. I know not that I have done so.

Yet how many things we do unawares. A kind lady wrote me a letter and

gave me some scoldings, saying that I had pained a great many for the

seeming coldness of my heart, that when people came to shake hands with

me and speak to me, I did not take respectful notice of them. This,

however, is a new thing in my nature. Those who know me know well the

average temperature of my heart. It might be (as she says) that, in

public gatherings, when tender greetings have crowded upon me, from

many persons at once, perhaps I have failed to speak to all. But this

is excusable, I know. How can one person speak to several at a time?

Frequently I have met four, five, or six brethren or sisters round me.

I have used both my hands to “shake hands” with them. Besides, in my

country, only one person expects to be spoken to in the same moment.

Again, I do not--though I have tried to do so--observe the formalities

and use the local phrases as much as they do here. There are some fixed

set of words which the people use, such as “How are you?” “Fine day, or

weather,” etc. These do not show real warmth of the heart, but come out

of the national disease of loquacity, I believe. My training has been

quite different, so I am liable to make a great many mistakes. Once

more, I would say, Christian friends, if I have done any wrong to any

of you, take it as unintentional and overlook it charitably.

Let it be known to you once more, that I go to India, but not to my

_Home_. You have frequently heard me say that on account of my

embracing the Christian religion I cannot live with my Hindoo mother

and other dear friends,--or rather, they cannot live with me. I am

going as a lamb among wolves; and in days of trials, sorrows, and

discouragements, I shall look first to my Father in heaven, and then to

you as my brothers and sisters. I go to preach and teach the truth to

my beloved countrymen, in your name and under your auspices, and I look

to _you_ for your help, prayers, and blessing.

The cause of Christ suffers severely from the injudicious preaching of

the Missionaries who go out to India from western countries. They think

that anything outside the Bible is _humbug_, _untrue_, and

_nonsensical_. They tell the Hindoos that their Holy Books contain

no truth, and that they themselves are going headlong to everlasting

damnation. These errors and follies I will carefully avoid. I would not

offend a Hindoo by insulting his gods, or puzzle him with a doctrine of

a Triune God and its attendant absurdities. I know the best way for me

will be to take a Hindoo saying, and present its truth in a practical

way. In order to attract respect, I would rather appeal to the Hindoo

Scripture, if it serve my purpose, than to Isaiah, Job, or Solomon. St.

Paul, while in Greece, appealed to a poet of the country, and thereby

secured the attention of the people. One can preach years from texts

taken from Hindoo proverbs, such as, “If you wish to be the greatest,

be the humblest,” “Feel for the world as you do for yourself.” Will you

say these are _humbugs_ because they belong to the Hindoos? No.

Christ uttered these very things. What I most earnestly want to do, is

to take Truth wherever I find it, and present it to my brethren in the

spirit of Christ, and show its applicability to our lives. If we are

faithful and labor patiently and prayerfully, aiming at the glory of

God and the good of Man, success will be ours. Our part is to sow and

water, and our Father will give the increase.

God bless you, dear, kind Christian friends! God bless you for your

kindness toward me! Do not let the interest die out when I go out of

your sight. I go to fight against sin, idolatry, and superstition,

and you who stay at the camp, or in the magazine rather, send me

ammunition and instructions, according to my need. This is the way to

carry on work. Trust in God, India’s future religion will be Liberal

Christianity.

Farewell to you all for a while. If Providence spares my life, I may

again, after four or five years of Christian labors, seek rest in your

homes, and personally tell you about the work of God. And if it be his

will that I shall depart from the world soon, what shall hinder our

meeting in our Father’s mansions? Farewell! “Lo, I will be with you

always” in the spirit. Heaven’s smile be upon you all, is the prayer of

your friend and brother,

J. C. GANGOOLY.

Cambridge: Stereotyped and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] See Appendix.

[2] In the English language there is no word to distinguish the

brother’s son from that of a sister. The Bengalees have different words

to define every relation distinctly. They have words to denote strictly

wife’s sisters, husband’s sisters, his elder and younger brothers,

the father-in-law of son, the children of the mother’s and father’s

sisters, &c.

[3] See similar custom among the Jews, Luke ii. 22.

[4] They do not use knives, forks, and spoons at the table, not because

they are ignorant of their services, but they do not need them. So is

the case with the table. They sit all separate as the custom requires,

and wash everything, even the floor, after the meal. They use the right

hand for food, and the left for the drink. If rice or any boiled food

should fall on the clothes, they will be washed after the meal. Owing

to these peculiarities, the Hindoos do not use table, knives, &c., like

Christians, who hardly wash themselves after the meal as the Hindoos

do. I have occasionally used the “_table_” in the place of floor,

in order to follow the English idiom.

[5] Means the son or daughter’s father-in-law.

[6] Foreigners have very imperfect ideas of Hindoo temples; they

think they are public places where people resort for the purpose of

worshipping their gods and also for hearing the instructions of the

Brahmuns. The temples are for the former, and not for the latter

purpose. In them are placed the images of certain gods, such as Shiba,

Kallēē, etc., which are worshipped and taken care of by some Brahmuns,

who either hire or own them. People bring (especially on some holiday)

their gifts of fruits, confectionery, money, clothes, etc. to the

idols, and offer them by the hands of the priests. The low castes are

not allowed to tread on the sacred floor, and they dare not do it. They

are satisfied with the pleasure of standing outside where the priest

comes out, sprinkles holy water on their heads, blesses them by putting

his foot on their hands, and returns them their trays, baskets, etc. in

which they bring their offerings. These are the leading features of the

services in Hindoo temples.

As the gods are presented to the children as irritable, fault-finding,

powerful, and fierce, the children fear, but do not love them. When a

mother would not have her child touch any eatable, let her only say,

“It is for the gods,” and that is enough. But still there are several

little ones who by not being allowed to put their hands upon some

tempting fruit or confectionery, because it belongs to the gods, hate

their idols, now and then. My own younger brother, a boy of four years,

remarked, “Mother, you say it belongs to Shalgram, that pineapple

belongs to Shalgram. I know that your Shalgram is a mere pebble.”

[7] Being brought up under this etiquette, I did not look at the face

of Mr. Dall or of good Captain Hendie in conversation with them. When I

first came on board the ship, Mr. Dall, because I looked aside, before

leaving us wrote down in my handbook the following: “When any one

speaks to me, my first duty is _to look at him_ with respectful

attention.” At any rate I did not lack “respectful attention” to the

speaker; but his age and our idea of reverence attached to it bent my

eyes downwards, that I might hear his words by my ear, receive them on

my head, and obey them with my might.

[8] The Hindoo Scriptures have a long story showing how Radha at once

became wife of Krishto and of Awe-an. It is hardly possible in this

connection to recite it. But let it be known that the Hindoos have some

reason to produce in defence of their faith, which they hold dear.

[9] A peculiar religious ceremony, like that of _baptism_, is

performed for every Hindoo. The Brahmun who does it, and selects a

male or female deity for his disciple, is called _gooroo_, or

pastor. The disciple, _Shis-ho_, can on no account change his

_gooroo_ or the god he furnishes. The _gooroo_ exercises

absolute sway over his _Shis-ho_; just as the “_infallible

Pope_” does over the Romanists. Gooroo has the power to send his

Shis-ho to heaven or hell as he pleases. Without a passport from him,

the “gates of heaven” would not admit the Shis-ho.

[10] It is customary with the Orientals to commit to memory the names

of the distant ancestry. Among the Jews it was the custom, and is so

still, I presume. Matthew and Luke traced the genealogy of our Master a

great way back.

[11] Great respect is paid to the cat as the messenger of the goddess.

They do not ill-treat this creature for fear of the displeasure of its

mistress. Love for animals is taught here in this curious way!

[12] It is surprising to learn that one man had “sixty thousand sons,”

all grown-up, reliable heroes at the same time; numerous as the sands

on the sea-shore. The Hindoos say this host of sons was born to fulfil

the prophecy of a Brahmun who had blessed the king, saying, perhaps,

“Be thou the father of sixty thousand male children.”

[13] This, and kindred anecdotes, have great effect upon the practical

life of the Hindoos, because they are thereby taught to believe that

their own good or bad deeds will bring forth fruits for them according

to their nature,--that by the mete by which they measure others will be

measured unto them. They are thus taught the Divine justice,--that God

is not a silent spectator of our proceedings: He notices everything,

and meets us according to our merit. Again, such anecdotes have another

influence upon the Hindoo mind. The Hindoos fear to insult a Brahmun,

whose wrath is warm enough to burn the offender to ashes. But the

Brahmun’s wrath does not amount to any visible danger now.

[14] This teaches a beautiful lesson of the nature of reconciliation,

although wrapped in the allegorical covering of superstition. We

see that none but the injured can forgive us,--that we ought to be

reconciled to him, and _redress_ the wrong we have done if

possible; for without reformation, mere repentance is nothing. The

Hindoo idea is, that even the gods do not stand by the side of the

offender if he does not humble himself and ask pardon, that is, if

he be not reconciled to his brother whom he had ill-treated. It is

something like the saying, “Make peace with thy brother while _he_

is on the way,” etc.

[15] In the Hindoo poems it has been shrewdly accounted for why

Vogiroth had no bones in him. I am well acquainted with it, but think

it not of much consequence to detail. Again, there is another thing

to be considered, the adaptedness of the expression to the taste of

a Christian reader. Every nation has its peculiar taste in regard

to the idiom and expression of thought; what is decent with one is

immodest with others. I see some expressions in the Bible which are not

permitted to be used to the English or American people. The Oriental

nations understand their peculiar meaning when they use those phrases.

[16] This is one of the leading features of Hindoo piety. In order to

secure the blessing of a god or goddess, it is essentially needful to

withdraw ourselves from the world, and take a vow to spend a certain

portion, or the whole of our life in the wilderness; to abstain from

food, drink, and recreation, and gradually to bring ourselves to that

state in which we do not live by “bread alone,” but by “every word that

proceedeth out of the mouth of God.” We read in the lives of the Hindoo

sages the process they had used to subdue their bodies, by continual

fasts and self-torture. In the early part of their hermit life, they

used to take a little food once a day, then once in two, and after a

while one meal at the end of the week. In warm weather their seat was

surrounded by a blazing fire made on purpose, and in winter they used

to immerse their bodies in water, and pray.

[17] Kasa, a copper vessel used by the Hindoos in their religious

services, to put water in, which they sprinkle on their heads and upon

the idols also.

[18] When I speak of the low castes, I hope the reader will not feel

sensitive, for I know the very classes of men who are high in Christian

countries are low in India. A great many men engaged in shoemaking

business move about as the “_upper ten_,” and are high caste in

this country, while among the Hindoos such persons, notwithstanding

their opulence (which begets high caste here), are lowest indeed.

[19] There are a great many anecdotes of deeds of valor and of

generosity attributed to this king. He is said to have destroyed the

Khitrias three hundred times. I should think it was the same Por-oosh

who had fought with the Macedonian hero on the frontier of India.

[20] Hoylas, the paradise of Shiba, is said to be a golden mountain,

similar to the Olympus of the Grecian deities. There is a mountain of

the above name in Thibet.

[21] The rice is made in a peculiar way, and called “authup.” The usual

way of bringing out rice from the husk is, first to boil, then dry and

thrash it. But this is not boiled at all, only dried and thrashed.

Hence the particular care taken in preparing this kind of rice

increases its price to some degree.

[22] The term worshipper, in the Hindoo sense, denotes the man who

spends the money, brings the image, and entertains the people at his

house, no matter whether he himself officiates and offers prayers or

not.

[23] Oshoor means monster, or opposite to Shoor-god. The men of cruel

characters, feared for their wicked deeds, are called Oshoor by the

Hindoos.

[24] This and kindred incidents show the ancient Hindoos did not

hold _caste_ as favorable, nor regard it as objectionable in

affairs of marriage, as they of the present age do. Now, as we

have observed in the first part of the volume, wealth, learning,

personal accomplishments, bow down to _caste_. A second-caste

man _cannot_, on any account whatever, marry his children to

those of the first, or to Brahmuns. But in the present case we see

the young princess offers her hand to an unrivalled intellect, not

caring as to the quarter or caste in which it might be found. There are

several instances of this kind, of fathers offering their daughters

to a suitable man. Thus Jŏnuk, the father of the goddess Shita, sent

a proclamation to the world that “Whoever shall be able to break an

arrow in two, shall have Shita for his recompense.” (This fatal arrow

belonged to Shiba, the Destroyer, and was left in the palace of Jŏnuk.)

In the legend we read of King Droupad offering his daughter to any who

would pierce the eyes of a gold-fish which had been hung six miles

above the ground, not looking at it directly for his aim, but only

seeing its shadow in a vessel of water. Doymontie marries a king who,

at her wish, boiled rice without fire and water. Bidda took a vow to

enter into literary and theological controversy with a man before she

would marry him. In the above cases invitations had of course been

extended to kings and nobles in general, and not of any particular

caste.

[25] The circumstances of the death of this noble poet are the

following. He was in the habit of visiting a literary public woman, who

was widely known for her acquisitions. One evening she was standing

near a pond, looking at the lotus-buds, when the king with his nobles

was passing by. The royal train halted by the pond to observe the rays

of the moon on its placid bosom. The king asked this question of his

friends: “Wind bloweth not, the water is calm, why then doth yon lotus

tremble?” The woman immediately went to her home and asked Kalidass

about it, who said it was for a Vromor, (kind of black wasp,) which had

got in to extract honey, but being too much intoxicated as the shades

of the eve were closing, the lotus made it a prisoner for the night.

As it moved within the lotus, it caused it to tremble. She came and

informed the king about the lotus. He was quite surprised, and asked

again, “Why the Vromor which gnaws dry woods does not cut through the

lotus and go out of it?” She flew to her chamber, and the great poet

solved the question. “The Vromor does not use his sharp sting, for two

reasons. Having drank too much honey from the lotus he is dissipated

now, and unable to use his weapon; secondly, he is too polite to cut

the tender lotus, the queen of flowers.” The king wanted to know if

it were her genius or that of another which solved his questions, and

desired to see her more at her home. She wickedly went first and cut

the head off Kalidass, who was sleeping then, that he might not be seen

by the king at her house.

[26] Mool Shun-nashee is the chief officer of the party called

Shun-nash. He is the _elect_ of the god, and takes the lead of the

party year after year, until he leaves this world for another. After

his death his son takes his post, or sometimes another is elected by

the priest and the Shun-nashees.

[27] The punishment by fine is inflicted by the Zamindar, the

landholder of the country. The British law does not authorize any

private individual to fine another, except the legal officers; but,

nevertheless, the poorer classes are in common cases fined and ill

treated by their landholders. The excommunication from the society as

well as from the caste is worse than the punishment by fine; for, over

and above the sufferings consequent to an outcasted life, the man is to

pay a certain sum of money to regain his lost position. The last state

of that man is worse than the first!

[28] It might perhaps be said by some, that, as the Hindoos do not

regard the female child worthy to redeem the soul of her parent by

Shrautho (as I have myself observed in the first part of this book),

they might throw her into the water. To this I reply, that the male

child of a daughter has the same privilege with the sons of the father,

to make the Shrautho. Hence, in India, the daughter cannot inherit her

parents’ property, but her son is the heir of the same.

[29] Neeshie, or Night, is the name of a species of evil spirits who

are believed by the Hindoos to walk invisibly on the earth in the

shades of night, and to entice young children to go with them. It is a

dangerous thing to be under their control, as the children cannot speak

a word or call for help when they are carried aloft on the trees. The

testimony of those who had been taken away by Neeshie is thus: “While

our friends were crying for and searching after us we saw them, and

wished to speak but could not.” The spirit, however, does not detain

its victims long, but brings them to their home invisibly.

[30] When I speak of our coming to God through Christ I do not mean

anything dogmatic in it. My ideas in relation to this point are

practical,--I mean an approach unto the throne of the Most High with

the _spirit_ of Christ, acting as he did, living as he lived. Put

on Christ around you; let his spirit approve your acts, guide your

thoughts, and sanctify your affections, and you will find yourself not

far from your Heavenly Father. This is the rational way of knowing him

as “the only true God, and Jesus Christ” whom he has sent.

[31] I did not live a Hindoo long enough to perform any pilgrimage, but

used to hear the stories from those who had been to the holy cities.

[32] The river Gunga is not twenty miles wide. This saying of the

Hindoos is applicable to any large river in the world, on account of

the inconvenience and delay, and perhaps danger, of crossing it. We can

walk or run on land according to our strength, but while on water we

are dependent upon the element.

[33] If such were not the difficulties to be struggled with, how many

good Hindoo young men would come to hear Mr. Dall’s preaching. There

are additional troubles: the neighbors watch their steps closely. This

is _one_ principal reason why Mr. Dall’s hall is not crowded on

Sunday. Judging the hearts of the brethren by my own, I feel quite sure

that the Unitarian rooms in Calcutta are crowded by them in the spirit.

While at home on Sunday, I used to reflect on the services and the

Bible class of Mr. Dall, and the elementary class of R. Counsel, Esq.

[34] He did not exaggerate all the particulars of this matter. During

my two years’ stay in the United States, I have seen, and read, and

heard enough of these things. For trifles men quarrel, fight, and stab

each other, and these are gentlemen too. On Sunday they hear their

pastors exhort, in the words of Christ, to “turn the other cheek also,”

when any man smote on the one cheek, and on Monday they fight duels for

words. Orations and Eulogies are delivered to their memory!

[35] Of course I had second and third suits of clothes with me when

I reached Boston, which were bought for me. I mean when I left

_home_ I did not bring _any_ dress except what I had on. Just

as I was I had to come out of it.

Transcriber’s Notes:

1. Obvious printers’, punctuation and spelling errors have been

corrected silently.

2. Where hyphenation is in doubt, it has been retained as in the

original.

3. Some hyphenated and non-hyphenated versions of the same words have

been retained as in the original.

4. Where appropriate, the original spelling has been retained.

5. Italics are shown as _xxx_.