University confers on him the high degrees of B. A., M. A. and B. L.,
and he distinguishes himself as a speaking member of the British Indian
Association or of the Calcutta Municipality. He also reads valedictory
addresses to retiring Governors and other Government Magnificoes. He is
created a Maharajah, a Rajah, a Rai Bahadoor, with perhaps the
additional paraphernalia of C. S. I. or C. I. E. As a ripe man of vivid
ambition and lofty aspiration, he necessarily hankers after and is all
a-gog to dash through thick and thin for these new honors and
decorations. He drives swiftly about in his barouche with his staff
holder on the coach-box in broadcloth livery. Unfortunately no baronetcy
blazons forth in Bengalee heraldry, like that bestowed on Sir Jamsetjee
Jeejeebhoy. The cause is obvious. No millionaire Bengalee has to this
day contributed so munificently to public charities as the Parsee
baronet.
When that distinguished Hindoo reformer, Baboo Dwarkanath Tagore,--the
most staunch coadjutor of Rajah Rammohun Roy,--visited England, it was
reported that Her Majesty had most graciously offered to confer on him
the title of a Rajah; and his liberality and public spirit fully
entitled him to that high distinction, but he politely refused it on the
ground that his position did not justify his accepting it. He felt that
the shadow of a name without substance was but a mockery. When Rajah
Radhakant Deb was elected President of the British Indian Association
"he used to declare that he was more proud of that office than of his
title of Rajah Bahadoor, inasmuch as it indicated the chiefship of a
body which was a power in the State and was destined to achieve immense
good for the country." At the time of the Prince of Wales' visit to
Calcutta, it was said that a certain English-made Rajah was introduced
by a Government Magnifico to the Maharajah of Cashmere; among other
matters, the Cashmere Rajah out of curiosity asked the Bengal Rajah,
"where was his Raj and what was the strength of his army?" The question
at once puzzled him, and his answer was anything but satisfactory. Of
all the Indian Viceroys, Lord Lytton was certainly the most liberal in
bestowing these hollow titles on the Baboos of Bengal, under a mistaken
notion of winning the love and confidence, which ought to constitute the
solid basis of a good Government. A Rajahship,[94] without the necessary
equipage and material and moral grandeur of royalty is but a gilt
ornament that dazzles at first sight but possesses little intrinsic
value. It is in fact a misnomer, a sham, a counterfeit. The love of
honor or power constitutes one of the main principles of human nature. A
Rajah, in the true sense of the word, is one who shares in the royalty
of divine attributes. He should remember that a man is bound to look to
something more than his mere wardrobe and title; he must possess a
goodness and a greatness which would benefit thousands and tens of
thousands of his fellow-creatures by the exercise of real,
disinterested virtue. Such a career alone can leave an imperishable and
ennobling name behind, which will go down to posterity as a pattern of
moral grandeur.[95] Politically considered these titles and decorations
have their value, inasmuch as they have a tendency to promote the
_entente cordiale_ between the rulers and the ruled, and, next to the
Public Debt, furnish, in an indirect way, an additional buttress to the
stability of the British Indian empire.
In former times, when the English rule was in its inceptive stage, when
external pageant--the outcome of vanity--was not much thought of, when
the simple taste of the people was not tainted by luxury and corruption,
an unnatural craving for titles exerted but a very feeble influence on
the minds of the great. Instead of seeking "the bubble reputation" they
vied with each other in the extent of their religious gifts and
endowments, affording substantial aid to the learned of the land and to
the poorer classes of the community. A spirit of disinterestedness and
self-sacrifice never at variance with magnanimity was conspicuous in all
their gifts. The immense extent of _Debatra_ and _Brahmatra_ land, _i.
e._, rent-free tenures throughout Bengal, even after the relentless
operation of the Resumption Act, still bears testimony to their
disinterested benevolence and the heartiness with which they entered
into other men's interests. Of course they were incapable of
comprehending the innumerable affinities and relations of life in all
its varied phases, rising from the finite and transient to the infinite
and the enduring, but whatever they gave, they gave not with a stinted
hand nor in an ostentatious way, but with a truly benevolent and
disinterested heart, looking to the Most High for their guerdon. The
sublime and elevated conception of organised charity never penetrated
their minds. Religious gifts and endowments formed the great bulk of
their contributions, but they also made permanent provision for the
relief of the helpless and the destitute,[96] not on the recognised
principles of English charity, _i. e._ the Hospital system, the Nurses'
Institutions, Reformatories for unfortunates, parish relief, funds for
the aged and infirm, provision of improved dwellings as well as for
baths and wash-houses for the working-classes inaugurated by the
magnificent gift by Mr. G. Peabody of L250,000, ragged schools and
asylums for the deaf, dumb and blind, supported by voluntary
contributions, and other organised methods for the relief of distress
and destitution throughout the country. It is a sad reflection on the
benevolent disposition of the Natives that they cannot boast of anything
bearing a remote analogy to the above recognised forms of Charity. In
India there is much individual charity of an impulsive and interested
character, but the great element of success in English charity is
combination and organisation, without which no work of public utility
can be practically carried out.
It is obvious that the peculiar social economy of the Natives presents
an almost insuperable barrier to the harmonious amalgamation of the
different classes artificially split into numerous subdivisions. In the
neighbourhood of Poona, Mr. Elphinstone says, there are about 150
different castes, and in Bengal they are very numerous. They maintain
their divisions, however obscurely derived, with great strictness.[97]
The religious, social and moral duties of these classes, exhibit marked
differences, which are opposed to the combination of united efforts in
the cause of relieving suffering humanity. The idea of a national
brotherhood and a system of universal philanthropy, such as Christianity
has nobly inaugurated, is much too elevated for the narrow, contracted
minds of the people. Independent of the numerous subdivisions of caste,
unhappily there still exists an impassable gulf between the Hindoos and
Mussulmans--at present the children of the same soil--which has hitherto
kept up a state of unhallowed separatism, essentially at variance with a
cordial coalition for the consummation of any comprehensive system of
Public Charity designed to benefit both. Age has rooted in the minds of
the two communities an implacable mutual hate, quite subversive of the
best interests of humanity. Plausible arguments may be adduced in
support of the existence of this race antagonism, but let both of them
be assured that "by abusing this world they shall not earn a better."
Let every act or feeling or motive of both races be merged in one
harmonious whole, developing the perfection of human nature in a
distinct and bright reality.
A Bengalee Baboo is fond of discussing European politics. The reading of
history has given him a superficial insight into the rise and progress
of nations. He does not deny that he amplifies and emphasises the
sentiments he has learnt in the school of English politics. The orations
of Lall Mohun Ghose in England have proved that a native of India has
mastered the art of thinking on his legs, which is the beginning and end
of oratory. A few more men like him, steadily working in earnest at the
fountain head of power, would certainly awaken public attention towards
the present condition of our country. It was Lord William Bentinck who
advised a body of Native Memorialists, anxious for the political
emancipation of their country, "to continue to agitate until they gained
their end." Constitutional representation to proper authority, his
Lordship remarked, would as much command public attention as idle,
factious declamation divert it.[98] He was emphatically the "People's
William" in India, as Gladstone is the "People's William" in England. He
was a statesman who directed his whole attention and energy to internal
improvement, repudiating all schemes of aggression or conquest. His
beneficence, immortalised in a noble monument--the Calcutta Medical
College,--will be more gratefully acknowledged by the latest generation
than the genius of a Hastings, a Wellesley, or a Dalhousie.
The complete emancipation of India, however, is a question of time.
Baboo Lall Mohun Ghose's speeches in England have not been entirely
fruitless, inasmuch as they have evoked and enlisted the sympathy of a
few leaders of public opinion. He is manfully struggling to remove the
bar of political disabilities, and to secure for his countrymen the
benefit of representative institutions, for the recognition and
appreciation of which they are now prepared. While they hope for the
best, they must be prepared for the worst. They must learn meanwhile to
cherish, as among the essential elements of ultimate success, a firm,
manly, independent and self-denying spirit.
A Bengalee Baboo is often voted a man of tall talk. Platitude is his
forte. This is surely true to a certain extent; and until he descends
from the elevated region of speculation to the matter of fact arena of
practice, both his writings and harangues must necessarily prove
abortive. He must learn to exchange his verbosity for action in the
great battle of life. Every great politician or statesman must have a
thorough practical training to enable him to overcome the opposition of
different factions whose interests are jeopardised by his success, and
to render his administration a blessing to the people. He must be
prepared to grow and advance under adverse influences. The history of
that consummate statesman, Sir Salar Jung, of that distinguished scholar
and councillor, Sir T. Madeo Rao, of that astute minister, Maharajah Sir
Dinkur Rao, furnishes the most convincing examples of superior
administrative ability combined with practical wisdom. Lord Northbrook,
in a recent speech at Birmingham, has made honorable mention of these
three eminent statesmen, whose valuable services in their respective
spheres have long since established their substantial claims to the the
gratitude of their fellow countrymen. When Sir Salar Jung visited
Europe, his very comprehensive and enlightened views elicited the
admiration of several of the wisest statesmen of the age. His able and
successful administration at Hyderabad, amidst the fierce opposition of
factious parties, affords an admirable illustration of his superior
practical wisdom. When, some thirty years ago, Maharajah Sir Dinkur Rao
visited Calcutta, he was the wonder of all who heard him enunciate, in a
telling speech at the Town Hall, his high, noble and practical views on
civil Government. The speech was not made feverish by visions of
indistinct good, as Mr. Theodore Dickens said, but it was a clear
exposition of the liberal sentiments of a wise statesman.
The Bengalees are not a warlike race. Their traditional habits and
usages, their physique, their diet and dress, their natural tendency to
slothfulness and effeminacy, their proverbial quietude, their general
want of pluck and manly spirit, their ascetic composure, placing the
chief joys of life in rest and competency,--an heirloom descended from
their ancestors,--all indicate an unwarlike temperament. During the
Mutiny of 1875,--an event which in atrocious acts of cruelty
incomparably surpasses all other historical events ever recorded,--that
kind hearted Governor General, Lord Canning, was advised to introduce
Martial Law into Calcutta, but he negatived the proposal by emphatically
declaring in the Council Chamber that the Bengalees are a mild, tame,
inoffensive and loyal race of people, whose only weapon of defence is a
simple penknife. A common Police constable with his baton is to them a
grim master of authority. A red-coated Highlander is formidable enough
to cope with and drive away an immense crowd of Bengalees even in the
very heart of the City of Palaces, while in the villages all shops and
houses are closed at the very sight of an European soldier in his
uniform. In fact, Bengal can well be governed by a handful of Native
Police constables, especially when the Arms' Act is in full force.
Unlike the military races of Upper India, or the border tribes, the
Bengalees will never, even under the influence of the most aggravated
wrongs and injuries, retaliate or resort to such a desperate court of
appeal as war and murder.
English is the adopted language of a Bengalee Baboo. It is an
instructive study to take a cursory view of the rapid progress of
English education throughout India from the day when David Hare had held
out pecuniary inducements to Hindoo youths to attend his school, and Dr.
Duff called in the aid of Rammohun Roy to found the infant General
Assembly's Institution, now developed into the largest College in India.
Fifty years ago, who dreamt or even hazarded a prediction that a Native
lad of sixteen or seventeen years of age would venture to traverse the
perilous ocean and compete for the Civil Service Examination in England,
paying no heed whatever to the manifold disadvantages arising from
social persecution, and the disruption of domestic relations of the
tenderest nature. When Bacon said that knowledge is power, he certainly
did not mean physical but intellectual power. It is the irresistible
influence of this power that has inspirited an Indian youth to appear at
the English "open competition" for the purpose of winning academic spurs
and entering a closely fenced service; it is the quickening influence of
this power, combined with an enterprising spirit, that has gradually
enabled a mere handful of English adventurers to convert a small factory
into one of the vastest empires in the East. The gigantic strides that
English education has made in India within a short time, have been the
wonder of the age, the foundation rock of her ultimate emancipation,
socially, morally and intellectually. The prison wall round the mind
which ages had reared and learning fortified has been completely
demolished, and not only men but matronly zenana females have picked up
a few crumbs of broken English words which they occasionally use in
familiar conversation, for instance, Rail, Talygraf, Guvner, Juj
Majister, High Cote, etc.
Some of the Bengalee Baboos read and write English with remarkable
fluency, and the epistolary correspondence of most of them is commonly
carried on in that language. When two or more educated Baboos meet
together, or take their constitutional in the morning, they perhaps talk
of some reading articles in the Anglo-Indian or English journals or
periodicals, and eagerly communicate to each other "the flotsam and
jetsam of advanced European thoughts, the ripest outcome in the
Nineteenth century, or the aftermath in the Fortnightly," as if the
vernacular dialect were not at all fitted for the communication of their
ideas. It is a pity that the cultivation and improvement of a national
literature--the embodiment of national thought and taste and the
mainspring of national enlightenment--seldom or never engages their
serious attention. But it is a great mistake to suppose that the large
mass of the Indian population can be thoroughly instructed and reformed
through the medium of a foreign language. The richness and copiousness
of modern English, combining as it does conciseness with solidity and
perspicuity, are admittedly very great; it is admirably adapted for the
educated _few_, but it is not equally suited to the capacity and
comprehension of the _many_. It is incumbent, therefore, on all well
disposed Hindoos, who have the real welfare of their country at heart,
to endeavour to fertilise their national literature by transplanting
into it the advanced thoughts of modern Europe, and to enrich it with
copiousness, such as would obviate its acknowledged deficiency and
barrenness. Until this is done, it is as unreasonable to expect elegance
and perfection in the national literature as it is to expect harvest in
seed-time or the full vigor of manhood in the incipient state of
childhood.
Assuredly the Bengalees are a race of _keranees_ or writers, as Napoleon
said the English were a nation of shopkeepers. Every morning and
evening, almost all the main streets of Calcutta leading to the English
quarter--bright prospect for the Tramway--are literally thronged with
dense crowds of keranees in their white cloth uniform, busily making for
their respective offices, either in shabby looking third class hackney
carriages or on foot. A foreigner not used to such sights cannot fail
almost unconsciously to come to a conclusion that the Bengalees are a
nation of keranees. Every Government, Railway or Merchant's office, is
filled with these Baboos, either actually employed or serving on
probation, biding their time in fond expectation of picking up a slice
of official bread, buttered or unbuttered. Even graduates of the
Calcutta University do not hesitate to serve as apprentices, because a
collegiate course does not teach the rules of bureaucracy or official
routine. Most of them are good copyists or clever accountants, while a
few are correspondence clerks. As a rule, their pay is very small
compared with what is given to English Clerks, for reasons which I need
not dilate upon here.
Within the range of our experience, extending over fifty years, we
remember only one Native gentleman--Baboo Shama Churn Dey, the present
vice-chairman of the Calcutta Municipality--who, by his tried ability,
intelligence and integrity has managed to climb to the top of
keraneedom. In recognition of his high efficiency his salary has been
raised to one thousand Rupees a month, in spite of many instances of
supersession. I, in common with others, am fully persuaded that had he
been a British-born Civilian, he would undoubtedly have drawn a much
larger salary. But it is useless to repine at a misfortune which is
inevitable.
Even the amusements of a Bengalee Baboo are more or less anglicised.
Instead of the traditional _Jattras_, (representations) and _Cobees_
(popular ballads) he has gradually imbibed a taste for theatrical
performances, and native musical instruments are superseded by European
flutes, concertinas and harmoniums, organs and piano-fortes. This is
certainly a decided improvement on the old antiquated system,
demonstrating the slow growth of a refined taste. Thus we see in almost
every phase of life, at home or outside, the Bengalee Baboo is
Europeanized. In his style of living, in his mode of dress, in his
writings, in his public and private utterances, in his household
arrangements and furniture, in his bearing and department, in his social
intercourse, in his mental accomplishments, and in fact, in his
passionate partiality for Western aesthetics, he is a modified
Anglo-Indian. But it were devoutly to be wished that he possessed a
larger admixture of the essential elements of European truthfulness of
character, energy and manliness of spirit, straightforwardness in his
dealings with society, nobility of sentiment, magnanimity combined with
simplicity, disinterested love and sympathy, and above all, moral and
spiritual elevation.
FOOTNOTES:
[94] It is a disreputable fact, but it most assuredly _is_ a fact, that
when some years ago a teacher of the Government School of Art published
a book in Bengallee on the ancient arts and manufactures of Hindoosthan,
and sent a copy of it to one of these English-made Rajahs, he politely
refused to take it--the price being one Rupee only--saying it was of no
use to him though it was an instructive and suggestive manual. This
refusal offers a sad comment on the liberality of my fellow countrymen
towards the encouragement of learning. But turning from the dark to the
bright side of the picture, I may perhaps be permitted to point with
pardonable pride to the almost unparalleled munificence of the late
Baboo Kally Prosono Singh of this City, in this respect. That
distinguished patron of vernacular literature had, it is said, spent
upwards of L50,000 on the compilation of Mohabharat, that grand Epic
poem of the Hindoos, which says Talboys Wheeler, still continues to
exercise an influence on the masses of the people "infinitely greater
and more universal than the influence of the Bible upon modern Europe."
[95] Of all the English-made Rajahs of the present day, it is pleasing
to recognise, in Moharajah Rajender Mullick of this City, some of the
noble attributes of a Rajah. Modest and unassuming, he manifests to a
great degree a generous disposition to relieve suffering humanity and to
do good by stealth. Never did he struggle to thrust himself, by the
nature of his work, upon public notice. Gifted with an intelligent mind,
a refined taste, and considerable artistic ability, his moral greatness
throws all other forms of greatness into the shade. He is not ambitious
to make his name the theme, the gaze, the wonder of a dazzled community.
[96] Of all the Hindoo millionaires whose life afforded the most
ennobling example of a pious and disinterested man that of Lalla
Baboo--the ancestor of the present Paikparra Rajah family, in the
suburbs of Calcutta--was certainly one of the most remarkable. He
possessed a princely fortune, a considerable portion of which he wisely
set apart for the support of the poor and destitute. Unlike most of his
wealthy countrymen, he renounced all the pleasures of the world, and in
the evening of his life retired with only a shred of cloth into the holy
city of Brindabun. As a practical illustration of self-denial he
actually led the life of a religious mendicant, daily begging from door
to door for a mouthful of bread. His religious endowments still continue
to offer shelter and food to hundreds of poor people in and around
Brindabun, which has been so graphically described by Colonel Tod.
"Though the groves of Brinda" says he, "in which Kanaya (Krishna)
disported with the Gopis, no longer resound to the echoes of his flute;
though the waters of the Jumna are daily polluted with the blood of the
sacred kine, still it is the holy land of the pilgrim, the sacred Jordan
of his fancy, on whose banks he may sit and weep, as did the banished
Israelite of old, the glories of Mathoora, his Jerusalem."
[97] Division always implies weakness and "estrangement intolerable
isolation" impeding the expansion of genuine benevolent feelings in a
comprehensive sense.
[98] Very few persons remember the days when Chuckerbutty faction and
grievance Thomson used to raise a hue and cry in the Fouzdarry
Balakhanah Debating Club, formed for the political emancipation of India
before the people were fully prepared to appreciate the value of their
rights and privileges.
XVI.
THE KOBIRAJ OR NATIVE PHYSICIAN.
Notwithstanding the rapid progress of medical science throughout the
country since the establishment of the Calcutta Medical College, it is
an undeniable fact that the practice of Hindoo _Kobirajes_ and Mussulman
_hakims_ still continues to find favour in the eyes of a large section
of the Indian population. In Chemistry, Anatomy, Midwifery and Surgery,
the decided superiority of the English over the Native system, is
admitted by all. This is unquestionably an age of improvement;
everything around us indicates the progressive development of arts and
sciences, and a society that does not keep pace with the onward march of
intellect is certainly much behind the age.