WHEN the British merchants first came to Calcutta, the Setts and
Baisakhs were the great traders, but none of the people of the
city knew English: all business communications with the foreigners
had to be carried on by means of signs. Man will always find a
way out of a difficulty if need be, and by means of these signs
a few English words get to be known. After the establishment of
the Supreme Court, increased attention was paid to English: this
was chiefly due to the influence of the law courts. By that time
Ram Ram Mistori and Ananda Ram Dass, who were representative men
in Calcutta, had learned many English expressions: Ram Narayan
Mistori, a pupil of Ram Ram Mistori, was engaged as clerk to
an attorney and used to write out petitions for a great many
people; he also kept a school, his pupils paying from fourteen
to sixteen rupees a month. Following his example, others, as
for instance Ram Lochan Napit and Krisha Mohun Basu, adopted
the profession of schoolmaster: their pupils used to read some
English book and learn the meaning of words by heart. At marriage
ceremonies and festivals, everybody would contemplate with awe
and astonishment, and loudly applaud, any boy who could utter a
few English expressions. Following the example set by others,
Mr. Sherborn had opened his school at a somewhat late period,
and the children of people belonging to the upper grades of
society were being educated at his establishment.
Now boys with a real desire to learn may pick up something or
other, by dint of their own exertions, at any school they may
be attending. All schools have their good and bad points, and
there are a large number of lads so peculiarly constituted that
they keep wandering about from school to school, under pretence
of being dissatisfied with each one they go to, and think,
by passing their time in this unsettled way, to deceive their
parents into the belief that they are learning something. So
Matilall, after attending Mr. Sherborn's school for a few days,
had himself entered anew at the school of a Mr. Charles.
The chief end in view in all education is the development of
a good disposition and a high character, the growth of a right
understanding, and the attainment of a thorough mastery of any
work that may have to be attended to in the practical business of
life. If the education of children is conducted on these lines,
they may become in every way respectable members of society,
competent to understand and duly execute all their business both at
home and abroad. But to ensure that such a training shall be given,
both parents and teachers have need to exert themselves. The young
will naturally follow in the footsteps of their elders. Goodness
in the parents is a necessary condition of the growth of goodness
in the children. If a drunken father forbids his child liquor,
why should the child listen to him? If a father, himself addicted
to immorality, attempts to instruct a son in morals, he will at
once recall the mousing cat that professed asceticism[8], and will
only mock at his hypocrisy. The son whose father lives a virtuous
life has no great need of advice and counsel: mere observation
of his father will generate a good disposition. The mother too
must keep her attention constantly fixed on her child: there is
nothing so potent in its humanising effect on a child's mind as
a mother's sweet conversation, kindness and caresses. A child's
good behaviour is assured when he distinctly realises that if he
does certain things, his mother will not take him into her lap and
caress him. Again, it is the teacher's duty to guard against making
a mere parrot of his pupil, when he is teaching him by book. If a
boy has to get all he reads by heart, his faculty of memory may be
strengthened, it is true; but if his intelligence is not promoted,
and he gets no practical knowledge, then his education is all
a sham. Whether the pupil be old or young, the matter should be
explained to him in such a way that his mind may grasp what he
is learning. By a good system of education, and judicious tact
in teaching, an intelligent comprehension of a subject may be
effected such as no amount of mere chiding will bring about.
Matilall had learned nothing of morality or good conduct in
his Vaidyabati home, and now his residence in Bow Bazar proved
a curse rather than a blessing. Becharam Babu had two nephews,
whose names were Haladhar and Gadadhar. These boys had never known
what it was to have a father; and though they occasionally went
to school out of fear of their mother and uncle, it was more of a
sham than anything else. They mostly wandered at their pleasure,
unchecked, about the streets, the river _ghâts_, the terraced
roofs of houses and the open common; and they utterly refused to
listen to anybody who tried to restrain them. When their mother
remonstrated, they would just retort: "If you do this we will
both of us run away;" so they were left to do pretty much as they
pleased. They found Matilall one of their own sort, and within
a very short time a close intimacy sprang up between them; they
became quite inseparable; would sit together, eat together, and
sleep together; would put their hands on each other's shoulders
and go about both in doors and out of doors hand in hand, or with
their arms round each other's necks. Whenever Becharam's wife saw
them, she would say: "They are three brothers, sons of one mother."
Neither children nor youths nor old men can remain for any length
of time passive or engaged in one kind of occupation: they must
have some way of dividing the twenty-four hours of the day and
night between a variety of occupations. In the case of children,
special arrangements will have to be made to ensure their having
a combination of amusement with instruction. Neither continuous
play nor continuous work is a good thing. The chief object of
all recreation is to enable a man to pay greater attention to his
labour afterwards, his body refreshed by relaxation. The mind only
becomes enfeebled by unbroken exertion, and anything learnt in that
condition simply floats about on the surface without sinking into
it. But in all games there is this to be considered, that those
only are beneficial in which there is a certain amount of bodily
exertion; no benefit is to be derived from cards or dice or any
pastimes of that kind: the only effect of such amusements is to
increase the natural tendency to idleness, which is the source of
such a variety of evils. Just as there is no good to be derived
from unceasing work, so by continuous play the intelligence is
apt to get blunted, for thereby the body only is strengthened,
the mind is not disciplined at all; and as the latter must be
engaged in something or other, is it to be wondered at that
in such a condition it should adopt an evil rather than a good
course? It is thus that many boys come to grief.
Matilall and his companions Haladhar and Gadadhar roamed about
everywhere like so many Brahmini bulls, doing just as they pleased
and paying no attention to any one. They were constantly amusing
themselves either with cards and dice or else with kites and
pigeon-flying. They could find no time either for regular meals
or for sleep. If a servant came to call them into the house, they
would only abuse him, and refuse to go in. If ever the maid came to
tell them that her mistress could not retire to rest until they had
had their supper, they would abuse her in a disgraceful manner. The
maid-servant would sometimes retort: "What courteous language you
have learned!" All the most worthless boys of the neighbourhood
gradually collected together and formed a band. Noise and confusion
reigned supreme in the house all day and night, and people in the
reception-room could not hear each other's voices: the only sounds
were those of uproarious merriment. So much tobacco and _ganja_
was consumed that the whole place was darkened with smoke: no one
dared pass by that way when this company was assembled, and there
was not a man who would venture to forbid such conduct. Becharam
Babu indeed was disgusted when the smell of the tobacco reached
him, as it occasionally did; but he would only give vent to his
favourite exclamation of disgust and impatience.
Most terrible of all evils are the evils that spring from
association with others. Even where there is unremitting attention
on the part of parents and teachers, evil company may bring
ruin; but where no such effort is made, the extent of corruption
that association with others brings about cannot be estimated
in language. Matilall's character, far from improving, was, by
the aid of his present associates, deteriorating day by day. He
might attend school for one or two days in the week, but would
merely remain seated there like a. dummy, treating the whole
thing as a supreme bore. He was continually joking with the other
boys or drawing on his slate; would scarce attend for five minutes
together to his lessons; and could think of nothing but the fine
time he would have with his companions out of school. There are
teachers possessed of sufficient skill and tact to draw to the
acquisition of knowledge the mind of even such a boy as Matilall:
being acquainted with various methods of imparting instruction,
they adopt that which is likely to prove most efficacious in each
particular case. Now the teaching in Mr. Charles school was as
indifferent as the teaching in Government schools often is at the
present day. Equal attention was not paid to all the classes and
all the boys, and no pains were taken to ascertain whether they
thoroughly understood the easy books they had to read before they
proceeded to more difficult ones. A good many people are firmly
convinced that a school derives its importance from the number
of books prescribed, and the amount read. It was considered quite
sufficient for the boys to repeat their lessons by heart: it was
not supposed to be necessary to know whether they understood or
not; and it was never taken into consideration at all whether
the education they were receiving was one that would fit them
for the practical business of afterlife. Unless influences are
very strong in their favour, boys attending such schools have not
much chance of receiving any education at all. Take into account
Matilall's father, the companions he had collected about him,
the place he was living in, the school he was attending, and some
idea may be formed of the extent of his intellectual training.
Teachers vary as much as schools do. One man will take immense
pains, while another will simply trifle away his times, fidgetting
about and pulling his moustache. Mr. Charles' factotum was
Bakreswar Babu, of Batalata; and he could do nothing without
him. This man made it his practice to visit his pupils' rich
parents, and say to them all alike: "Ah sir, I always pay special
attention to your boy! he is the true son of his father: he is no
ordinary boy, that: he is a perfect model of a boy." Bakreswar Babu
had charge of the education of the higher classes in the school,
but it was exceedingly doubtful whether he himself understood
what he taught. If this had got generally known he would have been
disgraced for life, so he kept very quiet on the subject. His sole
work was to make the boys read; and if any boy asked him for the
meaning of a word, he would bid him look in the dictionary. He
was bound of course to make a few corrections here and there in
the translation exercises the boys did for him; for if he were
to pass them all as correct, where would be his occupation as a
school-master? So he would make corrections, even when there was
no necessity for doing so, and when by doing so he actually made
mistakes which did not exist before: then if the boys asked him
what he was about, he would tell them they were very insolent
and had no business to contradict him. He generally paid most
attention to rich men's sons, and would question them at length
about the rents and value of their property. In a very short
time, Matilall became a great favourite with Bakreswar Babu:
the boy would bring him presents of flowers or fruit or books,
or handkerchiefs. Bakreswar Babu's idea was that he ought not
to let boys like Matilall slip out of his hands, for when they
reached man's estate, they might become as a "field of _beguns_"[9]
to him, -- a perpetual source of profit. What benefit too, he
thought, would he derive in the next world from looking after
the affairs of this school!
The time of the great autumn festival, the Durga Pujah, had now
arrived. In the bazaars and everywhere there was a great stir,
and the general bustle and confusion gave additional zest to
Matilall's passion for amusement. He suffered agonies so long
as he had to remain in school: his attention was perpetually
distracted; at one moment sitting at his desk, at the next playing
on it; never still for a single moment. One Saturday he had been
attending school as usual, and having got a half-holiday out
of Bakreswar Babu, had left for home. On his way he purchased
some betel and _pán_, and was proceeding merrily along, his whole
attention fixed on the pigeon and kite shops that lined the road,
and taking no note of the passers-by, when suddenly a sergeant
of police and some constables came up and caught him by the arm,
the sergeant telling him that he held a warrant for his arrest,
and that he must go quietly along with him. Matilall did his best
to get his arm free, but the sergeant was a powerful man and kept
a firm grasp as he dragged him along. Matilall next threw himself
on the ground and, bruised all over and covered with dust as he
was, made repeated efforts to escape: the sergeant thereupon hit
him with his fist several times. At last, as he lay overpowered
on the ground, the thought of his father caused the boy to burst
into tears, and there rose forcibly in his mind the question:
"Why have I acted as I have done? Association with others has been
my ruin." A crowd now began to collect in the road, and people
asked each other what was the matter. Some old women discussing
the affair inquired: "Whose child is this that they are beating
so? -- the child with the moon-face? ah, it makes one's heart
bleed to hear him cry!" The sun had not set when Matilall was
brought to the police-station: there he found Haladhar, Gadadhar,
Ramgovinda and Dolgovinda, with other boys from his neighbourhood,
all standing aside, looking extremely woe-begone. Mr. Blaquiere
was police magistrate at that time, and it would have been his
business to examine the prisoners; but he had gone home, so they
had to remain for the night in the lock-up.