Our humble work was at the moment much applauded, and the Indians’ prestige was enhanced. The newspapers published laudatory rhymes with the refrain, ‘We are sons of Empire after all.’
General Buller mentioned with appreciation the work of the corps in his despatch, and the leaders were awarded the War Medal.
The Indian community became a aid organized. ace into eee to i indentured Indians. ere came a greater awaken- ee ae ut Then and the feeling that Hindus, Musalmans, Christ- ians, Tamilians, Gujaratis and Sindhis were all Indians and children of the same motherland took deep root amongst them. Everyone believed that the Indians’ grievances were now sure to be redressed. At the moment the white man’s attitude seemed to be distinctly changed. The relations formed with the whites during the war were of the sweetest. We had come in contact with thousands of tommies. They were friendly with us and thankful for being there to serve them.
i wa r whe ph rage See arp We had proposed to come in after the tommies had finished. Bu to do so, and for a while a P Precedence to one another.
XI SANITARY REFORM AND FAMINE RELIEF It has always been impossible for me to reconcile myself to any one member of the body politic remaining out of use. I have always been loath to hide or connive at the weak points of the community or to press for its rights without having purged it of its blemishes. Therefore, ever since my settlement in Natal, I had been endea- vouring to clear the community of a charge that had been levelled against it, not without a certain amount of truth. The charge had often been made that the Indian was slovenly in his habits and did not keep his house and surroundings clean. The principal men of the community had, therefore, already begun to put their houses in order, but house-to-house inspection was undertaken only when plague was reported to be imminent in Durban. This was done after consulting, and gaining the approval of, the city fathers, who had desired our co-operation. Our co-operation made work easier for them and at the same time lessened our hardships. For whenever there is an outbreak of epidemics, the executive, as a general rule, get impatient, take excessive measures and behave to such as may have incurred their displeasure with a heavy hand. The community saved itself from this oppression by voluntarily taking sanitary measures.: But I had some bitter experiences. I saw that I could not so easily count on the help of the community in getting it to do its own duty, as [ could in claiming for it rights. At some places I met with in- sults, at others with polite indifference. It was too much for people to bestir themselves to keep their surroundings clean. To expect them to find money for the work was out of the question. These experiences taught me, better than ever before, that without infinite patience it was impossible to get the people to do any work. It is the reformer who is anxious for the reform, and not society, from which he should expect nothing better than opposition, abhorrence and even mortal persecution. Why may not society regard as retro- gression what the reformer holds dear as life itself?
Nevertheless the result of this agitation was that the Indian com- munity learnt to recognize more or less the necessity for keeping their houses and environments clean. I gained the esteem of the authorities. They saw that, though I had made it my business to ventilate grievances and press for rights, I was no less keen and insistent upon self-purification.
There was one thing, however, which still remained to be done, namely, the awakening in the Indian settler of a sense of duty to the motherland. India was poor, the Indian settler went to South RETURN TO INDIA 159 Africa in search of wealth, and he was bound to contribute part of his earnings for the benefit of his countrymen in the hour of their adversity. This the settler did during the terrible famines in 1897 and 1899. They contributed handsomely for famine relief, and more so in 1899 than in 1897. We had appealed to Englishmen also for funds, and they had responded well. Even the indentured Indians gave their share to the contribution, and the system inaugurated at the time of these famines has been continued ever since, and we know that Indians in South Africa never fail to send handsome conributions to India in times of national calamity.
Thus service of the Indians in South Africa ever revealed to me new implications of truth at every stage. Truth is like a vast tree, which yields more and more fruit, the more you nurture it. The deeper the search in the mine of truth the richer the discovery of the gems buried there, in the shape of openings for an ever greater Variety of service.
XII RETURN TO INDIA On my relief from war-duty I felt that my work was no longer in South Africa but in India. Not that there was nothing to be done in South Africa, but I was afraid that my main business might come merely money-making. ie Va Fri also pressing me to return, an e a should slop crave weet in India. And for the work in South frica, there were, of course, Messrs Khan and Mansukhlal Naazar. So I requested my co-workers to relieve me. After very great diffi- culty my request was conditionally accepted, the condition being that I should be ready to go back to South Africa if, within a year, e community should need me. I thought it was a difficult condition but the love that bound me to the community made me accept it.
‘The Lord has bound me With the cotton-thread of love, I am His bondslave,’ Sang Mirabai. And for me, too, the cotton-thread of love that bound i too strong to break. The voice of the She fie Somme ca and here the voice of friends was too People i ice of God, b A TAS real te Ee De Med. T accepted the condition and got their permission OFO: FAY is ti intimately connected only with Natal. The TA mi Wie, Ne ET the nectar of love. Farewell meetings Were given cea ae every place, and costly gifts were presented to e.
160 MY EXPERIMENTS WITH TRUTH Gifts had been bestowed on me before when I returned to India in 1899, but this time the farewell was overwhelming. The gifts of course included things in gold and silver, but there were articles of costly diamond as well.
What right had I to accept all these gifts? Accepting them, how could I persuade myself that I was serving the community without remuneration? All the gifts, excepting a few from my clients were purely for my service to the community, and I could make no difference between my clients and co-workers; for the clients also helped me in my public work.
One of the gifts was a gold necklace worth fifty guineas, meant for my wife. But even that gift was given because of my public work, and so it could not be separated from the rest.
The evening I was presented with the bulk of these things I had a sleepless night. I walked up and down my room deeply agitated, but could find no solution. It was difficult for me to forego gifts worth hundreds, it was more difficult to keep them.
And even if I could keep them, what about my children? What about my wife? They were being trained to a life of service and to an understanding that service was its own reward.
I had no costly ornaments in the house. We had been fast simpli- fying our life. How then could we afford to have gold watches? How could we afford to wear gold chains and diamond rings? Even then I was exhorting people to conquer the infatuation for jewellery. What was I now to do with the jewellery that had come upon me?
I decided that I could not keep these things. I drafted a letter, creating a trust of them in favour of the community and appointing Parsi Rustomji and others trustees. In the morning I held a consulta- tion with my wife and children and finally got rid of the heavy incubus.
I knew that I should have some difficulty in persuading my wife, and I was sure that I should have none so far as the children were ‘concerned. So I decided to constitute them my attorneys, The children readily agreed to my proposal. ‘We do not need these costly presents, we must return them to the community, and should we ever need them, we could easily purchase them,’ they said.
I was delighted. ‘Then you will plead with mother, won’t you?’ I asked them.
‘Certainly,’ said they. ‘That is our business. She does not need to wear the ornaments. She would want to keep them for us, and if we don’t want them, why should she not agree to part with them?’
But it was easier said than done.
RETURN TO INDIA 161 ‘You may not need them,’ said my wife. ‘ Your children may not need them. Cajoled they will dance to your tune. I can understand your not permitting me to wear them. But what about my daughters-in-law? They will be sure to need them. And who knows what will happen tomorrow? I would be the last person to part with gifts so lovingly given.’
And thus the torrent of argument went on, reinforced, in the end, by tears. But the children were adament. And I was unmoved.
I mildly put in: ‘The children have yet to get married. We do not want to see them married young. When they are grown up, they can take care of themselves. And surely we shall not have, for our sons, brides who are fond of ornaments. And if after all, we need to provide them with ornaments, I am there. You will ask me then.’
‘Ask you? I know you by this time. You deprived me of my Ornaments, you would not leave me in peace with them. Fancy you Offering to get ornaments for the daughters-in-law! You who are trying to make sadhus of my boys from today! No, the ornaments will not be returned. And pray what right have you to my necklace? ’ ‘But,’ I rejoined, ‘is the necklace given you for your service or for my service?’
‘I agree. But service rendered by you is as good as rendered by me. I have toiled and moiled for you day and night. Is that no Service? You forced all and sundry on me, making me weep bitter tears, and I slaved for them!’
These were pointed thrusts, and some of them went home. But I Was determined to return the ornaments. I somehow succeeded in extorting a consent from her. The gifts received in 1896 and 1901 Were all returned. A trust-deed was prepared, and they were depo- sited with a bank, to be used for the service of the community, ac- cording to my wishes or to those of the ae o O in need of funds for public purposes, and felt Gretta een tte trust, I have been able to raise the requi- Site amount, leaving the trust money intact. The fund is still there, eing operated upon in times of need, and it has regularly accumulated.
I have never since regrett by, my wife has also seen it €mptati: I A Ae of opinion that a public worker should accept no costly gifts.
ed the step, and as the years have gone s wisdom. It has saved us from many XIII IN INDIA AGAIN So I sailed for home. Mauritius was one of the ports of call, and as the boat made a long halt there, I went ashore and acquainted myself fairly well with the local conditions. For one night I was the guest of Sir Charles Bruce, the Governor of the Colony.
After reaching India I spent some time in going about the coun- try. It was the year 1901 when the Congress met at Calcutta under the presidentship of Mr. (later Sir) Dinshaw Wacha. And I of course attended it. It was my first experience of the Congress.
From Bombay I travelled in the same train as Sir Pherozeshah Mehta, as I had to speak to him about conditions in South Africa.
I knew the kingly style in which he lived. He had engaged a special saloon for himself, and I had orders to take my opportunity of speaking to him by travelling in his saloon for one stage. I, there- fore, went to the saloon and reported myself at the appointed station. With him were Mr. Wacha, and Mr. (now Sir) Chimanlal Setalvad. They were discussing politics. As soon as Sir Pherozeshah saw me, he said, ‘ Gandhi, it seems nothing can be done for you. Of course we will pass the resolution you want. But what rights have we in our own country? I believe that, so long as we have no power in our own land, you cannot fare better in the Colonies.’
I was taken aback. Mr. Setalvad seemed to Mr. Wacha cast a pathetic look at me.
I tried to plead with Sir Pherozeshah, but it was out of the question for one like me to prevail upon the uncrowned king of Bombay. I contented myself with the fact that I should be allowed to move my resolution.
“You will of cou: cheer me up. I th concur in the view; rse show me the resolution,’ said Mr. Wacha, to anked him and left them at the next stop.
So we reached Calcutta. with great eclat by the Rec was put up in the same block as I. I have a recollection that he came a day later.
as natural, Lokamanya would never be without his darbar. inter, I could paint him as I saw him seated on his bed — IN INDIA AGAIN 163 But I propose to examine in some detail the appointments in this camp. The volunteers were clashing against one another. You asked one of them to do something. He delegated it to another, and he in his turn to a third, and so on; and as for the delegates, they were neither here nor there.
I made friends with a few volunteers. I told them some things about South Africa, and they felt somewhat ashamed. I tried to bring home to them the secret of service. They seemed to understand, but service is no mushroom growth. It presupposes the will first and -then experience. There was no lack of will on the part of those good simple-hearted young men, but their experience was nil. The Congress would meet three days every year and then go to sleep. What training could one have out of a three days’ show once a year? And the’ delegates were of a piece with the volunteers. They had no better or longer training. They would do nothing themselves. ‘Volunteer, do this,’ ‘Volunteer, do that,’ were their constant orders, Even here I was face to face with untouchability in a fair mea- sure. The Tamilian kitchen was far away from the rest. To the Tamil delegates even the sight of others, whilst they were dining, Meant pollution. So a special kitchen had to be made for them in the College compound, walled in by wicker-work. It was full of smoke which choked you. It was a kitchen, dining room, washroom, all in one—a close safe with no outlet. To me this looked like a travesty of Varnadharma.’ If, I said to myself, there was such un- touchability between the delegates of the Congress, one could well imagine the extent to which it existed amongst their constituents. I heaved a sigh at the thought.
to insanitation. Pools of Parer res evel where. were only a few latrines, and the recollection o eir stink aan ane Eafe pointed it out to the volunteers. They said Pointblank: ‘That is not our work, it is the scavenger’s work.’ I asked for a broom. The man stared at me in wonder. I procured one and cleaned the latrine. But that was for myself. The rush was so great, and the latrines were so few, that they needed frequent clean- ing; but that was more than I could do. So I had to content myself With simply ministering to myself. And the others did not seem to mind the stench and the dirt.
e of the delegates did not scruple to use ooms for calls of nature at night. In the ots to the volunteers. No one was ready d I found no one to share the honour have since considerably improved, tes are not wanting who disfigure There was no limit But that was not all. Som the verandahs outside their r Morning I pointed out the sp to undertake the cleaning, an With me of doing it. Conditions ut even today thoughtless delega EE NIEA OF J ‘ 1. Duties of the four fundamental divisions of Hindu Society.
164 MY EXPERIMENTS WITH TRUTH the Congress camp by committing nuisance wherever they Pris fi and all the volunteers are not always ready to clean up after Pee m I saw that, if the Congress session were to be prolonged, con ion would be quite favourable for the outbreak of an epidemic.
XIV CLERK AND BEARER There were yet two days for the Congress session to begin. I had made up my mind to offer my services to the Congress office in order to gain some experience. So as soon as I had finished the daily ablu- tions on arrival at Calcutta, I proceeded to the Congress office.
Babu Bhupendranath Basu and Sjt. Ghosal were the secretaries. I went to Bhupenbabu and offered my services. He looked at me, and said: ‘I have no work, but possibly Ghosalbabu might have some- thing to give you. Please go to him.’
So I went to him. He scanned me and said with a smile: ‘I can give you only clerical work. Will you do it?’
‘ Certainly, said I. ‘I am here to do anything that is not beyond my capacity.’
‘That is the right spirit, young man,’ he said. Addressing the volunteers who surrounded him, he added, ‘Do you hear what this young man says?’
Then turning to me he proceeded: ‘Well then, here is a heap of letters for disposal. Take that chair and begin. As you see, hundreds of people come to see me. What am I to do? Am I to meet them, or am I to answer these busybodies inundating me with letters? I have no clerks to whom I can entrust this work. Most of these letters have nething in them, but you will please look them through. Acknowledge those that are worth it, and refer to me those that need a considered reply.’
I was delighted at the confidence reposed in me.
Sjt. Ghosal did not know me when he gave me the work. Only later did he enquire about my credentials.
I found my work very easy — the disposal of that heap of cor- respondence. I had done with it in no time, and Sjt. Ghosal was very glad. He was talkative. He would talk away for hours together. When he learnt something from me about my history, he felt rather sorry to have given me clerical work. But I reassured him: ‘ Please don’t worry. What am I before you? You have grown gray in the service of the Congress, and are as an elder to me. I am but an inexperienced youth. You have put me under a debt of obligation by CLERK AND BEARER 165 entrusting me with this work. For I want to do Congress work, and you have given me the rare opportunity of understanding the details.’
“To tell you the truth,’ said Sjt. Ghosal, ‘that is the proper spirit. But young men of today do not realize it. Of course I have known the Congress since its birth. In fact I may claim a certain share with Mr. Hume in bringing the Congress into being.’
And thus we became good friends. He insisted on my having lunch with him.
Sjt. Ghosal used to get his shirt buttoned by his bearer. I volun- teered to do the bearer’s duty, and I loved to do it, as my regard for elders was always great. When he came to know this, he did not mind my doing little acts of personal service for him. In fact he was delighted. Asking me to button his shirt, he would say, ‘ You see, now, the Congress secretary has no time even to button his shirt. He has always some work to do.’ Sjt. Ghosal’s naivete amused me, but did not create any dislike in me for service of that nature. The benefit I received from this service is incalculable.
In a few days I came to know the working of the Congress. I met most of the leaders. I observed the movements of stalwarts like Gokhale and Surendranath. I also noticed the huge waste of time there. I observed too, with sorrow even then, the prominent place that the English language occupied in our affairs. There was little Tegard for economy of energy. More than one did the work of one, and many an important thing was no one’s business at all.
Critical as my mind was in observing these things, there was enough charity in me, and so I always thought that it might, after all, be impossible to do better in the circumstances, and that saved me from undervaluing any work.
XV IN THE CONGRESS In the Congress at last. The immense pavilion and the volunteers in stately array, as also the elders seated on the dais, overwhelmed me. I wondered where I should be in that vast assemblage.
The presidential address was a book by itself. To read it from - cover to cover was out of the question. Only a few passages were therefore read.
After this came the election of the Subjects Committee. Gokhale took me to the Committee meetings.
Sir Pherozeshah had of course agreed to admit my resolution, but I was wondering who would put it before the Subjects Committee, and when. For there were lengthy speeches to every resolution, all in English to boot, and every resolution had some well-known leader to back it. Mine was but a feeble pipe amongst those veteran drums, and as the night was closing in, my heart beat fast. The resolutions coming at the fag-end were, so far as I can recollect, rushed through at lightning speed. Everyone was hurrying to go. It was 11 o’clock. I had not the courage to speak. I had already met Gokhale, who had looked at my resolution. So I drew near his chair and whispered to him: ‘Please do something for me.’ He said: ‘Your resolution is not out of my mind. You see the way they are rushing through the resolutions, But I will not allow yours to be passed over.’
“So we have done?’ said Sir Pherozeshah Mehta.
“No, no, there is still the resolution on South Africa. Mr. Gandhi has been waiting long,’ cried out Gokhale.
“Have you seen the resolution?’ asked Sir Pherozeshah.
‘Of course.’
“Do you like it?’
“It is quite good.’
‘Well then, let us have it, Gandhi.’
I read it trembling.
Gokhale supported it.
“Unanimously passed,’ cried out everyone.
“You will have five minutes to speak to it Gandhi, said Mr. Wacha.
The procedure was far from pleasing to me. No one had troubled to understand the resolution, everyone was in a hurry to go and, because Gokhale had seen the resolution, it was not thought neces- sary for the rest to see it or understand it!
LORD CURZON’S DARBAR 167 The morning found me worrying about my speech. What was I to say in five minutes? I had prepared myself fairly well but the words would not come to me. I had decided not to read my speech but to speak ex tempore. But the facility for’speaking that I had acquired in South Africa seemed to have left me for the moment.
As soon as it was time for my resolution, Mr. Wacha called out my name. I stood up. My head was reeling. I read the resolution some- how. Someone had printed and distributed amongst the delegates Copies of a poem he had written in praise of foreign emigration. I read the poem and referred to the grievances of the settlers in South Africa. Just at this moment Mr. Wacha rang the bell. I was sure I had not yet spoken for five minutes. I did not know that the bell was Trung in order to warn me to finish in two minutes more. I had heard others speak for half an hour or three quarters of an hour, and yet no bell was rung for them. I felt hurt and sat down as soon as the bell was rung. But my childlike intellect thought then that the poem contained an answer to Sir Pherozeshah.1 There was no question about the passing of the resolution. In those days there was hardly any difference between visitors and delegates. Everyone raised his hand and all resolutions passed unanimously. My resolution also fared in this wise and so lost all its importance for me. And yet the very fact that it was passed by the Congress was enough to delight my heart, The knowledge that the imprimatur of the Congress meant that of the whole country was enough to delight anyone.
XVI LORD CURZON’S DARBAR ber of Com- The Congress was over, but as I had to meet the Cham } merce EOE E people in connection with work in South Africa, I st i r a month. Rather than stay this time in a Rte tras acgut E the required introduction for a bia in the India Club. Among its members were some prominent ERAR aa looked forward to getting into touch with meman interer ing em in the work in South Africa. Gokhale Gare as Stay j me time, he: rie h thankfully iecospted tt invitation eee ee a eee here by myself. He waited for a day or ee EE dhi T events Sonally. He discovered my reserve andisaid i aane y i i ill not do. You must Stay in and this sort of reserve wi Set es ae as many people as possible. I want you to do °ngress work.’
1. See Chapter XIII, Paragraph Third.
168 MY EXPERIMENTS WITH TRUTH I shall record here an incident in the India Club, before I proceed to talk of my stay with Gokhale., Lord Curzon held his darbar about this time. Some Rajas and Maharajas who had been invited to the darbar were members of the Club. In the Club I always found them wearing fine Bengali dhotis and shirts and scarves. On the darbar day they put on trousers befitting khansamas 1 and shining boots. I was pained and inquired of one of them the reason for the change.
‘We alone know our unfortunate condition. We alone know the insults we have to put up with, in order that we may possess our wealth and titles,’ he replied.
‘But what about boots?’ I asked.
‘Do you see any difference between khansamas and us?’ he replied, and added, “they are our khansamas, we are Lord Curzon’s to absent myself from the levee, I should have to suffer the consequences. If I were to attend it in my usual dress, it would be an offence. And do you think I am going to get any opportunity there of talking to Lord Curzon? Not a bit of it!? I was moved to pity for this plainspoken This reminds me of another darbar.
At the time when Lord Hardinge laid the foundation stone of Hindu Universit:, there was a darbar. There were Rajas and Maha- Tajas of course, but Pandit Malaviyaji specially invited me also to attend it, and I did so.
I was distressed to see the Mahar silk pyjamas and silk achkans, pearl bracelets on their wrists, pearl and dia: and, besides all this, swords with gol waist-bands.
these khansama turbans and these shining friend.
ajas bedecked like women — necklaces round their necks, mond tassels on their turbans den hilts hanging from their I discovered that these were insignia not their slavery. I had thought that they must How heavy is the toll of sins and wrongs that wealth, power and prestige exact from man!
1. i.e. Waiters, XVII A MONTH WITH GOKHALE—I From the very first day of my stay with him Gokhale made me feel completely at home. He treated me as though I were his younger brother, he acquainted himself with all my requirements and arranged to see that I got all I needed. Fortunately my wants were few, and as I had cultivated the habit of self-help, I needed very little Personal attendance. He was deeply impressed with my habit of fending for myself, my personal cleanliness, perseverance and regu- larity, and would often overwhelm me with praise.
He seemed to keep nothing private from me. He would introduce me to all the important people that called on him. Of these the one who stands foremost in my memory is Dr. (now Sir) P. C. Ray. He lived practically next door and was a very frequent visitor.
This is how he introduced Dr. Ray: ‘ This is Prof. Ray who having a monthly salary of Rs. 800, keeps just Rs. 40 for himself and devo- tes the balance to public purposes. He is not, and does not want to Set married.
I see little difference between Dr. Ray as he is today and as he Used to be then. His dress used to be nearly as simple as it is, with this difference of course that whereas it is Khadi now, it used to be Indian mill-cloth in those days. I felt I could never hear too much of the talks between Gokhale and Dr. Ray, as they all pertained to pub- ic good or were of educative value. At times they were painful too, Containing, as they did, strictures on public men. As a result, some of those whom I had regarded as stalwart fighters began to look quite puny.
Sincerity, ia’s poverty an i l ma e A B ia Various people sought to interest him m different things. But he gave every one of them the same reply: You do the thing yourself. Let me do my own work. What I want 1s freedom for my country. After that is won, we can think of other hings, Today that one thing js enough to engage all my time and energy, ould be seen every moment. Ranade’s atter, and he would cite it at every e’s death (or birth, I forget which) who observed it regularly.
His reverence for Ranade c authority was final in every m Step, The anniversary of Ranad Occurred during my stay with Gokhale, 170 MY EXPERIMENTS WITH TRUTH There were with him then, besides myself, his friends Prof. Katha- vate and a Sub-Judge. He invited us to take part in the celebration, and in his speech he gave us his reminiscences of Ranade. He com- pared incidentally Ranade, Telang and Mandlik. He eulogized Telang’s charming style and Mandlik’s greatness as a reformer. Citing an instance of Mandlik’s solicitude for his clients, he told us an anecdote as to how once, having missed his usual train, he engaged a special train so as to be able to attend the court in the interest of his client. But Ranade, he said, towered above them all, as a versatile genius. He was not only a great judge, he was an equally great historian, an economist and a reformer. Although he was a judge, he fearlessly attended the Congress, and everyone had such confidence in his sagacity that they unquestioningly accepted his decisions. Gokhale’s joy knew no bounds, as he described these quali- ties of head and heart which were all combined in his master, Gokhale used to have a horse-carriage in those days. I did not know the circumstances that had made a horse-carriage a necessity for him, and so I remonstrated with him: ‘ Can’t you make use of the tramear in going about from place to place? Is it derogatory to a leader’s dignity?’
Slightly pained, he said, ‘So you also have failed to understand me! I do not use my Council allowances for my own personal com- forts. I envy your liberty to go about in tramears, but I am sorry I cannot do likewise, When you are the victim of as wide a publicity as I am, it will be difficult, if not impossible, for you to go about in a tramear. There is no reason to suppose that everything that the leaders do is with a view to personal comfort. I love your simple habits. I live as simply as I can, but some expense is almost inevi- table for a man like myself.’
He thus satisfactorily disposed of one of my complaints, but there was another which he could not dispose of to my satisfaction.
‘But you do not even go out for walks,’ that you should be always ailing? Shoul time for physical exercise 7e ‘When do replied.
said I. ‘Is it surprising d public work leave no you ever find me free to go out for a walk?’ he yn had such a great regard for Gokha! him. Though this reply was far from sati. I believed then and I XVIII A MONTH WITH GOKHALE — II Whilst living under Gokhale’s roof I was far from being a stay- at-home.
I had told my Christian friends in South Africa that in India I would meet the Christian Indians and acquaint myself with their condition. I had heard of Babu Kalicharan Banerji and held him in high regard. He took a prominent part in the Congress, and I had none of the misgivings about him that I had about the average Christian Indian, who stood aloof from the Congress and isolated himself from Hindus and Musalmans. I told Gokhale that I was thinking of meeting him. He said: ‘What is the good of your seeing him? He is a very good man, but I am afraid he will not Satisfy you. I know him very well. However, you can certainly meet him if you like.’
I sought an appointment, which he readily gave me. When I went, I found that his wife was on her death-bed. His house was simple. In the Congress I had seen him in a coat and trousers, but I was glad to find him now wearing a Bengal dhoti and shirt. I liked his simple mode of dress, though I myself then wore a Parsi coat and trousers. Without much ado I presented my difficulties to him. He asked: ‘Do you believe in the doctrine of original sin?’
‘I do,’ said I.
‘I do,’ said I.
‘Well then, Hinduism offers no absolution therefrom, Christianity does,’ and added: “The wages of sin is death, and the Bible says that the only way of deliverance is surrender unto Jesus.’
I put forward Bhakti-marga (the path of devotion) of the Bhaga- vadgita, but to no avail. I thanked him for his goodness. He failed to satisfy me, but I benefited by the interview. alked up and down the facta S Calcutta. I went lanes on foot. I met Justice Mitter and Sir Gurudas AA onic PS I wanted in my work in South Africa. And about this time I met Raja Sir Pyarimohan Mukarji. oken to me about the Kali temple, which y as I had read about it in the books. ustice Mitter’s house was in the same locality, and I therefore went to the temple on the same day that if visited him. On the way I saw a stream of sheep going to be Sacrificed to Kali. Rows of beggars lined the lane leading to the temple. There were religious mendicants too, and even in those days I was sternly opposed to giving alms to sturdy beggars.
During these days I w Kalicharan Banerji had sp I was eager to see, especiall: So I went there one day. J 172 MY EXPERIMENTS WITH TRUTH A crowd of them pursued me. One of such men was found seated on a verandah. He stopped me, and accosted me: ‘ Whither are you going, my boy?’ I replied to him.
He asked my companion and me to sit down, which we did.
I asked him: ‘Do you regard this sacrifice as religion??
“Who would regard killing of animals as religion??
‘Then, why don’t you preach against it??
‘ That’s not my business. Our business is to worship God.’
‘But could you not find any other place in which to worship God?’
‘All places are equally good for us. The people are like a flock of sheep, following where leaders lead them. It is no business of us sadhus,’ We did not prolong the discussio We were greeted by rivers of blood. I could not bear to stand there. I was exasperated and restless. I have never forgotten that sight.
That very evening I had an invitation to dinner at a party of Bengali friends. There I spoke to a friend about this cruel form of worship. He said: ‘The sheep don’t feel anything. The noise and the drum-beating there deaden all sensation of pain.’
I could not swallow this. I told him that, they would tell a different tale. I felt that to be stopped. I thought of the story of Bud the task was beyond my capacity.
I hold today the same opinion as I held then. To my mind the life of a lamb is no less precious than that of a human being. I should be unwilling to take the life of a lamb for the sake of the human body. I hold that, the more hel m but passed on to the temple.
if the sheep had speech, the cruel custom ought dha, but I also saw that XIX A MONTH WITH GOKHALE —III The terrible sacrifice offered to Kali in the name of religion en- hanced my desire to know Bengali life. I had read and heard a good deal about the Brahmo Samaj. I knew something about the life of Pratap Chandra Mazumdar. I had attended some of the meetings addressed by him. I secured his life of Keshav Chandra Sen, read it with great interest, and understood the distinction between Sadharan Brahmo Samaj, and Adi Brahmo Samaj. I met Pandit Shivanath Shastri and in company with Prof. Kathavate went to see Maharshi Devendranath Tagore, but as no interviews with him were allowed then, we could not see him. We were, however, in- vited to a celebration of the Brahmo Samaj held at his place, and there we had the privilege of listening to fine Bengali music. Ever since I have been a lover of Bengali music.
Having seen enough of the Brahmo Samaj, it was impossible to be satisfied without seeing Swami Vivekanand. So with great enthu- siasm I went to Belur Math, mostly, or maybe all the way, on foot. I loved the sequestered site of the Math. I was disappointed and sorry to be told that the Swami was at his Calcutta house, lying ill, and could not be seen.