which was just opposite the ladder, and proceeded to open it with the intention of pushing her out. The tears were running down her cheeks in torrents, and she cried: ‘Have you no sense of shame? Must you so far forget yourself? Where am I to go? I have no parents or relatives here to harbour me. Being your wife, you think I must put up with your cuffs and kicks? For Heaven’s sake behave poureelsy and shut the gate. Let us not be found making scenes like his!’
I put on a brave face, but was really ashamed and shut the gate. If my wife could not leave me, neither could I leave her. We have had numerous bickerings, but the end has always been peace between us. The wife, with her matchless powers of endurance, has always been the victor.
Today I am in a position to narrate the incident with some detach- ment, as it belongs to a period out of which I have fortunately emerged. I am no longer a blind, infatuated husband, I am no more my wife’s teacher. Kasturba can, if she will, be as unpleasant to me today, as I used to be to her before. We are tried friends, the one no longer regarding the other as the object of lust. She has been a faithful nurse throughout my illnesses, serving without any thought of reward.
thought of reward.
The incident in question occurred in 1898, when I had no concep- tion of brahmacharya. It was a time when I thought that the wife was the object of her husband’s lust, born to do her husband’s behest, rather than a helpmate, a comrade and a partner in the husband’s joys and sorrows. It was in the year 1900 that these ideas underwent a radical transformation, and in 1906 they took concrete shape. But of this in its proper place. Suffice it to say that with the gradual disappearance in me of the carnal appetite, my domestic g more and more peaceful, sweet and happy. Let no one conclude from this narrative of a sacred recollection tha ny means an ideal couple, or that there is a complete ee Bs E e between us. Kasturba herself does not perhaps know whether she has any ideals independently of me. It is likely that many of my doings have not her approval even today. We never discuss them, I see no good in discussing them. Foryshe was edu- cated neither by her parents nor by me at the time when I ought to have done it. But she is blessed with one great quality to a very considerable degree, a quality which most Hindu wives possess in some measure. And it is this: willingly or unwillingly, consciously or unconsciously, she has considered herself blessed in following in my footsteps, and has never stood in the way of my endeavour to lead a life of restraint. Though, therefore, there is a wide difference between us intellectually, I have always had the feeling that ours is a life of contentment, happiness and progress.
XI INTIMATE EUROPEAN CONTACTS This chapter has brought me to a stage where it becomes necessary for me to explain to the reader how this story is written from week to week.
When I began writing it, I had no definite plan before me. I have no diary or documents on which to base the story of my experiments. I write just as the Spirit moves me at the time of writing. I do not claim to know definitely that all conscious thought and action on my part is directed by the Spirit. But on an examination of the greatest steps that I have taken in my life, as also of those that may be regarded as the least, I think it will not be improper to say that all of them were directed by the Spirit.
I have not seen Him, neither have I known Him. I have made the world’s faith in God my owr, and as my faith is ineffaceable, I regard that faith as amounting to experience. However, as it may be said that to describe faith as experience is to tamper with truth, it may perhaps be more correct to say that I have no word for characterizing my belief in God.
It is perhaps now somewhat easy to understand why I believe that I am writing this story as the Spirit prompts me. When I began the last chapter I gave it the heading I have given to this, but as I was writing it, I realized that before I narrated my experiences with Europeans, I must write something by way of a preface, This I did and altered the heading.
vant, when I am not even sure about the relevancy of writing this story.
_ I understand more clear] inadequacy of all autobiogra ` INTIMATE EUROPEAN CONTACTS 207 I, therefore, wonder for a moment whether it might not be proper to stop writing these chapters. But so long as there is no prohibition from the voice within, I must continue the writing. I must follow the sage maxim that nothing once begun should be abandoned unless it is proved to be morally wrong. . I am not writing the autobiography to please critics. Writing it is itself one of the experiments with truth. One of its objects is certainly to provide some comfort and food for reflection for my co-workers. Indeed I started writing it in compliance with their wishes. It might not have been written, if Jeramdas and Swami Anand had not persisted in their suggestion. If, therefore, I am wrong in writing the autobiography, they must share the blame.
But to take up the subject indicated in the heading. Just as I had Indians living with me as members of my family, so had I English friends living with me in Durban. Not that all who lived with me liked it. But I persisted in having them. Nor was I wise in every case, I had some bitter experiences, but these included both Indians and Europeans. And I do not regret the experiences. In spite of them, and in spite of the inconvenience and worry that I have often caused to friends, I have not altered my conduct and friends have kindly borne with me. Whenever my contacts with strangers have been painful to friends, I have not hesitated to blame them. I hold that believers who have to see the same God in others that they see in themselves, must be able to live amongst all with sufficient detachment. And the ability to live thus can be cultivated, not by fighting shy of unsought opportunities for such contacts, but by hailing them in a spirit of service and withal keeping oneself un- affected by them.
Though, therefore, out, I received two Eng my house was full when the Boer War broke lishmen who had come from Johannesburg. Both were theosophists, one of them being Mr. Kitchin, of whom we shall have occasion to know more later. These friends often Cost my wife bitter tears. Unfortunately she has had many such trials on my account. This was «he first time that I had English friends to live with me as intimately as members of my family. I had stayed in English houses during my days in England, but there I conformed to their ways of living, and it was more or less like living in a boarding house. Here it was quite the contrary. The English friends became members of the family. They adopted the Indian style in many matters. Though the appointments in the house were in the Western fashion, the internal life was mostly Indian. I do remember having had some difficulty in keeping them as mem- bers of the family, but I can certainly say that they had no difficulty in making themselves perfectly at home under my roof. In Johannes- burg these contacts developed further than in Durban.
XII EUROPEAN CONTACTS (Contd.)
In Johannesburg I had at one time as many as four Indian clerks, who were perhaps more like my sons than clerks. But even these were not enough for my work. It was impossible to do without typewriting, which, among us, if at all, only I knew. I taught it to two of the clerks, but they never came up to the mark because of their poor English. And then one of these I wanted to train as an accountant. I could not get out anyone from Natal, for nobody could enter the Transvaal without a permit, and for my own personal convenience I was not prepared to ask a favour of the Permit Officer.
I was at my wits’ end. Arrears were fast mounting up, so much so that it seemed impossible for me, however much I might try, to cope with professional and public work. I was quite willing to engage a European clerk, but I was not sure to get a white man or woman to serve a coloured man like myself. However I decided to try. I approached a typewriter’s agent whom I knew, and asked him to get me a stenographer. There were girls available, and he promised to try to secure the services of one. He came across a Scotch girl called Miss Dick, who had just come fresh from Scotland. She had no objection to earning an honest livelihood, wherever available, and she was in need. So the agent sent her on to me. She immediately prepossessed me.
‘Don’t you mind serving under an Indian?’ I asked her. ‘Not at all,’ was her firm reply.
‘What salary do you expect? ° ‘Not too much if you will give me the work I want from you. When can you join?’
‘This moment, if you wish.’
I was very pleased and straightaway started dictating letters to her.
Before very long she became more a daughter or a sister to me than a mere stenotypist. I had scarcely any reason to find fault with her work. She was often entrusted with the management of funds amounting to thousands of pounds, and she was in charge of account books. She won my complete confidence, but what was perhaps more, she confided to me her innermost thoughts and feelings. She sought my advice in the final choice of her husband, and I had the privilege to give her away in marriage. As soon as Miss Dick became Mrs. Macdonald, she had to leave me, but even after her marriage she did not fail to respond, whenever under pressure I made a call upon her.
EUROPEAN CONTACTS (Contd.) 209 But a permanent stenotypist was now needed in her place, and I was fortunate in getting another girl. She was Miss Schlesin, in- troduced to me by Mr. Kallenbach, whom the reader will know in due course. She is at present a teacher in one of the High Schools in the Transvaal. She was about seventeen when she came to me. Some of her idiosyncrasies were at times too much for Mr. Kallen- bach and me. She had come less to work as a stenotypist than to gain experience. Colour prejudice was foreign to her temperament. She seemed to mind neither age nor experience. She would not hesi- tate even to the point of insulting a man and telling him to his face what she thought of him. Her impetuosity often landed me in difficulties, but her open and guileless temperament removed them as soon as they were created. I have often signed without revision letters typed by her, as I considered her English to be better than mine, and had the fullest confidence in her loyalty.
Her sacrifice was great. For a considerable period she did not draw more than £ 6, and refused ever to receive more than £ 10 a month. When I urged her to take more, she would give me a scolding and say, ‘I am not here to draw a salary from you. I am here because I like to work with you and I like your ideals.’
She had once an occasion to take £ 40, from me, but she insisted on having it as a loan, and repaid the full amount last year, Her courage was equal to her sacrifice. She is one of the few women I have been privileged to come across, with a character as clear as crystal and courage that would shame a warrior. She is a grown up woman now. I do not know her mind quite as well as when she y contact with this young lady will ever be for ould therefore be false to truth if I She knew neither nigh ventured out on errands in the graha days almost every one of the leaders was in jail, she led the movement single-handed. She had the management of thousands, a tremendous amount of correspondence, and Indian Opinion in her hands, but she never wearied.
I could go on without end writing thus about Miss Schlesin, but T shall conelude this chapter with citing Gokhale's estimate of her. Gokhale knew every one of my co-workers. He was pleased with many of them, and would often give his opinion of them. He gave the first place to Miss Schlesin amongst all the Indian and European ly met with the sacrifice, the purity and co-workers. ‘I have rare r i l i the fearlessness I have seen 1n Miss Schlesin,’ said he. ‘ Amongst your co-workers, she takes the first place in my estimation.’
14 XT ‘INDIAN OPINION’ Before I proceed with the other intimate European contacts, I must note two or three items of importance. One of the contacts, however, should be mentioned at once. The appointment of Miss Dick was not enough for my purpose. I needed more assistance. I have in the earlier chapters referred to Mr. Ritch. I knew him well. He was manager in a commercial firm. He approved my sug- gestion of leaving the firm and getting articled under me, and he considerably lightened my burden.
About this time Sjt. Madanjit approached me with a proposal to start Indian Opinion and sought my advice. He had already been conducting a press, and I approved of his proposal. The journal was launched in 1904, and Sjt. Mansukhlal Naazar became the first edi- tor. But I had to bear the brunt of the work, having for most of the time to be practically in charge of the journal. Not that Sjt. Man- sukhlal could not carry it on. He had been doing a fair amount of journalism whilst in India, but he would never venture to write on intricate South African problems so long as I was there. He had the greatest confidence in my discernment, and therefore threw on me the responsibility of attending to the editorial columns. The journal has been until this day a weekly. In the beginning it used to be issued in Gujarati, Hindi, Tamil and English. I saw, however, that the Tamil and Hindi sections were a make-believe. They did not serve the purpose for which they were intended, so I discontinued them as I even felt that there would be a certain amount of decep- tion involved in their continuance.
But after all these years I feel that the journal has served the 0 as never intended to be a commercial concern. So long as it was under my control, the changes in the journal were indicative of changes in my life. Indian Opinion in those days, like Young India and Navajivan today, was a mirror of part of my life. Week after week I poured out my soul in its columns, and expounded the principles and practice of Satyagraha as I understood it. During ten years, that is, until 1914, excepting the intervals of my enforced rest in prison, there was hardly an issue of Indian Opinion without an article from me. I cannot recall a word in those articles set down without thought or deliberation, or a word of conscious exaggera- tion, or anything merely to please. Indeed the journal became for me a training in self-restraint, and for friends a medium through which to keep in touch with my thoughts, The critic found very little to which he could object. In fact the tone of Indian Opinion compelled the critic to put a curb on his own pen. Satyagraha would probably have been impossible without Indian Opinion. The readers looked forward to it for a trustworthy account of the Satyagraha campaign as also of the real condition of Indians in South Africa. For me it became a means for the study of human nature in all its casts and shades, as I always aimed at establishing an intimate and clean bond between the editor and the readers. I was inundated with letters containing the outpourings of my correspondents’ hearts. They were friendly, critical or bitter, according to the temper of the writer. It was a fine education for me to study, digest and answer all this correspondence. It was as though the community thought audibly through this correspondence with me. It made me thorough- ly understand the responsibility of a journalist, and the hold I secured in this way over the community made the future campaign workable, dignified and irresistible.
In the very first month of Indian Opinion, I realized that the sole aim of journalism should be service. The newspaper press is a great power, but just as an unchained torrent of water submerges whole countrysides and devastates crops, even so an uncontrolled pen serves but to destroy. If the control is from without, it proves more poisonous than want of control. It can be profitable only when exercised from within. If this line of reasoning is correct, how many of the journals in the world would stand the test? But who would stop those that are useless? And who should be the judge? The useful and the useless must, like good and evil generally, go on together, and man must make his choice.
XIV COOLIE LOCATIONS OR GHETTOES?
Some of the classes which render us the greatest social service, but which we Hindus have chosen to regard as ‘ untouchables sf are relegated to remote quarters of a town or a village, called in Guja- rati dhedvado, and the name has acquired a bad odour. Even so in Christian Europe the Jews were once ‘untouchables’, and the quarters that were assigned to them had the offensive name of “ghettoes’. In a similar way today we have become the untouch- ables of South Africa. It remains to be seen how far the sacrifice of Andrews and the magic wand of Shastri succeed in rehabilitating us.
The ancient Jews regarded themselves as the chosen people of God to’ the exclusion of all others, with the result that their descen- dants were visited with a strange and even unjust retribution. Almost untouchables, with the r being visited not only u Musalmans and Parsis as country and have the same colour as their Hindu brethren.
The reader will have now realized to of the word ‘locations’ with which I have headed this chapter. In onnotation. It means what S, and the quarters assigned coolie locations’, Johannesburg had ocations where the COOLIE LOCATIONS OR GHETTOES? 213 all the care and protection that could be given them. The traders and educated Indians who followed them were very few.
The criminal negligence of the Municipality and the ignorance of the Indian settlers thus conspired to render the location thorough- ly insanitary. The Municipality, far from doing anything to improve the condition of the location, used the insanitation caused by their own neglect, as a pretext for destroying the location, and for that purpose obtained from the local legislature authority to dispossess the settlers. This was the condition of things when I settled in Johannesburg. 5 Johannesburg. 5 The settlers, having proprietary rights in their land, were naturally entitled to compensation. A special tribunal was appointed to try the land acquisition cases. If the tenant was not prepared to accept the offer of the Municipality, he had a right to appeal to the tribunal, and if the latter’s award exceeded the Municipality’s offer, the Municipality had to bear the costs.
Most of the tenants engaged me as their legal adviser. I had no desire to make money out of these cases, so I told the tenants that I should be satisfied with whatever costs the tribunal awarded, in case they won, and a fee of £ 10 on every lease, irrespective of the result of the case. I also told them that I proposed to set apart half of the money paid by them for the building of a hospital or similar institution for the poor. This naturally pleased them all.
Out of about 70 cases only one was lost. So the fees amounted to a fairly big figure. But Indian Opinion was there with its per- sistent claim and devoured, so far as I can recollect, a sum of £1,600. I had worked hard for these cases. The clients always surrounded me. Most of them were originally indentured labourers from Bihar eighbourhood and from South India. For the redress of ances they had formed an association of their own, separate from that of the free Indian merchants and traders. Some of them were open-hearted, liberal men and had high charac- ter. Their leaders were Sjt. Jairamsing, the president, and Sjt. Badri, who was as good as the president. Both of them are now no more. They were exceedingly helpful to me. Sjt. Badri came in very close contact with me and took a prominent part in Satyagraha. Through these and other friends I came in intimate contact with numerous Indian settlers from North and South India. I became more their bro- ther than a mere legal adviser, and shared in all their private and public sorrows and hardships. s It may be of some interest to know how the Indians used to name me. Abdulla Sheth refused to address me as Gandhi. None, fortu- nately, ever insulted me by calling or regarding me as ‘saheb’.
Abdulla Sheth hit upon a fine appellation — ‘bhai’, i.e., brother. Others followed him and continued to address me as ‘bhai’ until h Africa. There was a sweet flavour about the moment I left Sout r t the name when it was used by the ex-indentured Indians.
and its n 1 their peculiar griev XV THE BLACK PLAGUE —I The Indians were not removed from the location as soon as the Municipality secured its ownership. It was necessary to find the residents suitable new quarters before dislodging them, but as the Municipality could not easily do this, the Indians were suffered to stay in the same ‘dirty’ location, with this difference that their condition became worse than before. Having ceased to be proprietors they became tenants of the Municipality, with the result that their surroundings became more insanitary than ever. When they were proprietors, they had to maintain some sort of cleanliness, if only for fear of the law. The Municipality had no such fear! The number of tenants increased, and with them the squalor and the disorder.
While the Indians were fretting over this state of things, there was a sudden outbreak of the black plague, also called pneumonic plague, more terrible and fatal than the bubonic.
Fortunately it was not the location but one of the gold mines in the vicinity of Johannesburg that was responsible for the outo see these victims of the scourge, and he sent a Pencil-note to me to the following effect: ‘There has been a sudden Prompt measures otherwise we must be prepared for dire conse- quences. Please come immediately.’
put all the patients there. I cycled to the location, and wrote to the Town Clerk to inform him of the circumstances in which we had Dr. William Godfrey, who was practising in Johannesburg, ran to the rescue as soon as he got the news, and became both nurse and doctor to the patients. But twenty-three patients were more than three of us could cope with.
THE BLACK PLAGUE—I 215 It is my faith, based on experience, that if one’s heart is pure calamity brings in its train men and measures to fight it. I had at that time four Indians in my office—Sjts. Kalyandas, Maneklal, Gunvantrai Desai and another whose name I cannot recollect, Kalyandas had been entrusted to me by his father. In South Africa I have rarely come across anyone more obliging and willing to render implicit obedience than Kalyandas. Fortunately he was un- married then, and I did not hesitate to impose on him duties in- volving risks, however great. Maneklal I had secured in Johannes- burg. He too, so far as I can remember, was unmarried. So I decided to sacrifice all four — call them clerks, co-workers or sons. There was no need at all to consult Kalyandas. The others expressed their readiness as soon as they were asked. ‘ Where you are, we will also be,’ was their short and sweet reply.
Mr. Ritch had a large family. He was ready to take the plunge, but I prevented him. I had not the heart to expose him to the risk. So he attended to the work outside the danger zone.
It was a terrible night — that night of vigil and nursing. I had nursed a number of patients before, but never any attacked by the black plague. Dr. Godfrey’s pluck proved infectious. There was not much nursing required. To give them their doses of medicine, to attend to their wants, to keep them and their beds clean and tidy, and to cheer them up was all that we had to do: nd fearlessness with which the youths worked rejoiced me beyond measure. One could understand the bravery of Dr. Godfrey and of an experienced man like Sjt. Madanjit. But the spirit of these callow youths!
s I can recollect, we pulled all the patients through that The indefatigable zeal a So far a night. But the whole i interest and, for me, it at least two more chapters.
ncident, apart from its pathos, is of such absorbing of such religious value, that I must devote to XVI THE BLACK PLAGUE — II The Town Clerk expressed his gratitude to me for having taken charge of the vacant house and the patients. He frankly confessed that the Town Council had no immediate means to cope with such an emergency, but promised that they would render all the help in their power. Once awakened to a sense of their duty, the Munici- pality made no delay in taking prompt measures, other necessaries through the offices of z provised a temporary hospital. The Municipality lent the services of a nurse, who came with brandy and o Dr. Godfrey still remained in charge.
The nurse was a kindly lady and woul d fain have attended to the patients, but we rarely allowed her to touch them, lest she should Dr. Godfrey, I put three patients, brandy, under the earth treatment, their heads and chests. Two of these were saved. The other twenty died in the godown.
In the course of a few days we learnt that the good nurse had had an attack and immediately succumbed. It is impossible to say how d and how we remained immune, but the On the outbreak of the the Press, holding the Muni ity guilty of negligence after the location came into its pos: i THE BLACK PLAGUE—II 217 the plague itself. This letter secured me Mr. Henry Polak, and was partly responsible for the friendship of the late Rev. Joseph Doke.
I have said in an earlier chapter that I used to have my meals at a vegetarian restaurant. Here I met Mr. Albert West. We used to meet in this restaurant every evening and go out walking after dinner. Mr. West was a partner in a small printing concern. He read my letter in the press about the outbreak of the plague and, not finding me in the restaurant, felt uneasy.
My co-workers and I had reduced our diet since the outbreak, as I had long made it a rule to go on a light diet during epidemics. In these days I had therefore given up my evening dinner. Lunch also I would finish before the other guests arrived. I knew the proprietor of the restaurant very well, and I had informed him that, as I was engaged in nursing the plague patients, I wanted to avoid the con- tact of friends as much as possible.
Not finding me in the restaurant for a day or two, Mr. West knocked at my door early one morning just as I was getting ready to go out for a walk. As I opened the door Mr, West said: ‘I did not find you in the restaurant and was really afraid lest something should have happened to you. So I decided to come and see you in the morning in order to make sure of finding you at home. Well, here I am at your disposal. I am ready to help in nursing the patients. You know that I have no one depending on me.’
I expressed my gratitude, and without taking even a second to think, replied: ‘I will not have you as a nurse. If there are no more cases we shall be free in a day or two. There is one thing however.’
‘Yes, what is it?’
“Could you take charge of the Indian Opinion press at Durban? Mr. Madanjit is likely to be engaged here and someone is needed at Durban. If you could go, I should feel quite relieved on that score.’
“You know that I have a press. Most probably I shall be able to go, but may I give my final reply in the evening? We shall talk it over during our evening walk.’: I was delighted. We had the talk. He agreed to go. Salary was no consideration to him, as money was not his motive. But a salary of £10 per month and a part of the profits, if any, was fixed up. The very next day Mr. West left for Durban by the evening mail, entrust- ing me with the recovery of his dues. From that day until the time I left the shores of South Africa, he remained a partner of my joys and sorrows.
Mr. West belonged to a peasant family in Louth (Lincolnshire). He had had an ordinary school education, but had learnt a good deal in the school of experience and by dint of self-help. I have always known him to be pure, sober, God-fearing, humane Englishman.
We shall know more of him and his family in the chapters to follow.
XVII LOCATION IN FLAMES Though my co-workers and I were relieved of the charge of the patients, there remained many things arising out of the black plague still to be dealt with.
I have referred to the negligence of the Municipality regarding the location. But it was wide awake so far as the health of its white citizens was concerned. It had spent large amounts for the preserva- tion of their health and now it poured forth money like water in order to stamp out the plague. In spite of the many sins of omission and commission against the Indians that I had laid at the door of the Municipality, I could not help commending its solicitude for the white citizens, and I rendered it as much help as I could in its laudable efforts. I have an impression that, if I had withheld my co- operation, the task would have been more difficult for the Municipality, and that it would not have hesitated to use armed force and do its worst.
But all that was averted, at the Indians’ behaviour, plague measures was sim command with the Indians of the Municipality. It wa: that length, but I do no advice.
The Municipal authorities were pleased and much of the future work regarding plified. I used all the influence I could to make them submit to the requirements s far from easy for the Indians to go all t remember anyone having resisted my The location was put under a stron, being made impossible without permiss free permits of entry and exit. The decision was location population vacate i canvas with provi- e time, and a guard y before sending it to an remember, nearly sixty thousand pounds THE MAGIC SPELL OF A BOOK 219 were thus deposited. I advised such of the people as had enough money to place it as fixed deposit, and they accepted the advice. The result was some of them became accustomed to invest their money in banks.
The location residents were removed by special train to Klipspruit Farm near Johannesburg, where they were supplied with provisions by the Municipality at public expense. This city under canvas looked like a military camp. The people who were unaccustomed to this camp life were distressed and astonished over the arrangements, but they did not have to put up with any particular inconvenience. I used to cycle out to them daily. Within twenty-four hours of their stay they forgot all their misery and began to live merrily. Whenever I went there I found them enjoying themselves with song and mirth. Three weeks’ stay in the open air evidently improved their health.
So far as I recollect, the location was put to the flames on the very next day after its evacuation. The Municipality showed not the slightest inclination to save anything from the conflagration. About this very time, and for the same reason, the Municipality burnt down all its timber in the market, and sustained a loss of some ten thousand pounds. The reason for this drastic step was the dis- covery of some dead rats in the market.
The Municipality had to incur heavy expenditure, but it success- fully arrested the further progress of the plague, and the city once more breathed freely.
XVIII THE MAGIC SPELL OF A BOOK ck plague enhanced my influence with the poor Indians, and increased my business and my responsibility. Some of the new contacts with Europeans became so close that they added consi- derably to my moral obligations.
I made the acquaintance of Mr. Polak in the vegetarian restau- rant, just as I had made that of Mr. West. One evening a young man dining at a table a little way off sent me his card expressing a desire to see me. I invited him to come to my table, which he did.
‘I am sub-editor of The Critic,’ he said. ‘When I read your letter to the press about the plague, I felt a strong desire to see you. I am glad to have this opportunity.’ - Mr. Polak’s candour drew me to him. The same evening we got to know each other. We seemed to hold closely similar views on the essential things of life. He liked simple life. He had a wonderful faculty of translating into practice anything that appealed to his intellect. Some of the changes that he had made in his life were as prompt as they were radical.
The bla 220 MY EXPERIMENTS WITH TRUTH Indian Opinion was getting more and more expensive every day. The very first report from Mr. West was alarming. He wrote: ‘I do not expect the concern to yield the profit that you had thought pro- bable. I am afraid there may be even a loss. The books are not in order. There are heavy arrears to be recovered, but one cannot make head or tail of them. Considerable overhauling will have to be done. But all this need not alarm you. I shall try to put things right as best I can. I remain on, whether there is profit or not.’
Mr. West might have left when he discovered that there was no profit, and I could not have blamed him. In fact, he had a right to arraign me for having described the concern as profitable without proper proof. But he never so much as uttered one word of com- plaint. I have, however, an impression that this discovery led Mr. West to regard me as credulous. I had simply accepted