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EXPERIENCES OF A PLANTER.
VOL. I.
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–
THE EXPERIENCES OF
A PLANTER
IN THE
JUNGLES OF MY SO RE. .
ry
By ROBERT HAELLIOT,
WITH /ZZUSTRATIONS AAWD A MAA.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOIL. I.
LONDON :
CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193, PICCADILLY.
* 1871.
LONDON :
PRINTED BY VIRTUE AND Co.,
CITY ROAD,
PREFACE,
IN these pages I shall have occasion to differ very
... widely from many previous writers on India; but it
must not be considered that I mean, therefore, to set
myself up as a kind of Indian Pope. On the contrary,
and bearing in mind that it is just possible there may be
some truth in the 306th verse” of the “Dhammapada,
or Path of Virtue,” I wish it to be clearly understood
that I advise all Indian readers, or all readers who mean
to go to India in any capacity whatever, neither to
bélieve nor disbelieve any of my statements or conclu-
sibns about which there can be the smallest shadow of
doubt, but to hold them in abeyance in the mind, with
the view of carefully testing their accuracy as oppor-
tunities may occur. As for Englishmen in general,
I shall consider myself abundantly fortunate if they
will either believe or disbelieve, or go to the trouble
of forming any conclusion at all regarding the things
ift this book.
In conclusion, I wish to acknowledge my obligations

* “He who says what is not, goes to hell; he also who, having done a thing,
says, “I have not done it.” After death both are equal; they are men with evil
deeds in the next world.”—Wide Introduction to “Buddaghosha's Parables,”
pſ oxiul.
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to, and to thank very heartily, Colonel Meade, the Chief
Commissioner of Mysore, Dr. Forbes Watson, and
several other officers of Government, who have kindly
supplied me with valuable information. It is impossible
for me to mention here all the gentlemen to whom I
am under obligations; but I must not omit to add that
I am under particular obligations to Professor Gold-
stücker, Professor Anderson of Glasgow University,
and Mr. Dadabhai Naoroji.
t
vi AREFA CE.
|
CONTENTS OF WOL. I.
CEIAPTER. I.-MYSELF.
Myself—Munzerabad—Starting the Plantation .
Big Game Shooting—Jungle Pets—Native Visitors
CHAPTER II.—MY NATIVE NEIGHBOURS.
Wellesley's Occupation of Munzerabad
Scenery—Classification of the People—Cultivation
Farmers readily take to Trade &
Farm-houses—Farmers—Dress—Description
Tody-drawers º e © &
Whollyers, or Helot Class . © & o
Ethnological Division—Religious Notions .
Devils—Offerings to Devils
Segee Feast—Firebrand Fighting
Pulling the Idol Chariot . º * e -
Decay of Brahminical Influence—Other, Feasts .
Feast to the Dead
Gods and Goddesses—Causes of Devil-worship
Devil-worship in the Plains—Action of Devils
Disinterring Lepers to cause Rainfall—The Evil Eye
Increase of Marriage Expenses in various Castes e
Partly due to People hoarding Cash instead of Grain .
Dangers of this .
Marriage Ceremonies .
A Widow's Marriage Ceremonies
Funeral Rites
Canarese Language spoken e e º e e *
Food of the People—Knowledge of Plants and edible Fungi
PAGE
1
18
39
42
46
47
53
55
57
60
67
68
71
72
73
75
77
ºy
{
79
80
81
85
86
88
89
CHAPTER III.-NATIVE CHARACTER—PRIVATE RELATIONS OF
LIFE.
Gratitude and Ingratitude—Instances of º (a
Veracity—Exaggerations—No Truth where Fear prevails .
91
99
X COAVTEAVT.S.
Mr. Raikes's Remarks on the Evil Effects of Caste
Caste never an original Cause of Infanticide
Summary and Concluding Remarks
CHAPTER VII.—RELIGION.
Prevailing Features in European and Asiatic Religions
General Features of the Indian Popular Belief .
Causes of the prevailing Tone .
The Ancient Vedic Faith
Vedic Doctrines . - º
Vedic Teachings latent, not lost . e • •
Brahminism almost destroyed, and Nothing rising in its stead
Tukaram, the Maharatta Poet e e
His T).octrinal Belief and Calvinistic Tendencies .
Specimens of Tukaram’s Writings & -
He denounces the Ceremonies practised at Festivals .
Hindoo Theories of the ultimate Fate of the Soul
Tukaram's Opinion in favour of its Separate Existence
Tukaram's Farewell .
PAGE
280
282
283
287
288
289
291
293
294
296
297
299
301
303
304
305
306
Religion for the Hindoos e - e - e
Something needed to replace the present decayed Beliefs .
Deism the only Road to Christianity . -
Evil Effects of Missionary School Efforts e
Missionary Schools produce People with no Religion .
Missionary Reasons for preferring the Schools in Towns -
Missionaries should abstain from taking to other Callings in India
Missionary Luxury
Rebuking Idolatry - s - & -
Suggestions for effectually prosecuting Missionary Work
APPENDIX
307
308
309
310
311
312
315
316
317
3.18
ILLUSTRATIONS TO WOL. I.
*~
THE Illustration on the Frontispiece requires little remark, as it is
simply my bungalow, with the coolies, overseers, and European
manager assembled near the house before setting out for their day's
work on the plantation.
The Second Illustration, consisting of sixteen figures, is intended
to give the reader an idea of the odd variety in appearance between
the four principal castes in Munzerabad. The illustration was
lithographed from a photograph which was taken on the spot, and,
considering the smallness of the scale, the lithographer's work has here
been very successful. The four figures on the left are coolies, or the
Pariah caste. The Lingayets, or vetegarian farmers, are represented
by the four standing figures in the centre; the meat-eating and tody-
drinking farmers are seated, and two of them have long matchlocks;
and the four figures on the right represent the tody-drawers. Of the
vegetarian farmers the figure on the reader's right does not give a
correct idea of the original, and the last figure but one of the tody-
drawers is made a great deal more like a monkey than need be ; but,
with these exceptions, the picture is very successful, and a number of
the figures are almost perfect likenesses.
The Third Illustration gives a group of tody-drawers, most of
whom were my own tenants, who generally accompanied me when I
went out shooting. As the reader will observe, some of them are
armed with large hacking-knives, which are hitched into an iron catch
at the back of the belt. The central figure in the group is a man
about six feet in height. The last figure on the reader's right is a
good likeness as to face and figure, and so is the last but one on the
left ; but the remaining figures, though presenting some resemblance
to the originals, and faithful enough as to dress and figure, cannot be
correctly described as likenesses.
All the Illustrations have been copied from photographs taken on
the spot.
To face 2.7. Voſ. Z
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EXPERIENCES OF A PLANTER
—(?–
CHAPTER I.
MYSELF.
N the year 1855 Isailed for India, with a trifling capital,
and with that firm belief in my own capabilities which
is common to youth, and which one looks back upon in
after life with mingled feelings of Wonder and amusement.
With my capital and belief I landed at Bombay, and a
week later embarked for Mangalore in a salt-laden native
craft (Patama), the use of which I hired for the sum of
thirty-five florins. We sailed down the palm-fringed
coast, with that sublime indifference to time and progress
which is the wonder, and not unfrequently the envy, of
Europeans. The craft moved lazily onwards, the hubble-
bubble passed from mouth to mouth, and the crew whiled
away the evening hours with the aid of their monotonous
chants. Sometimes we stopped for fishing, sometimes
we ran into a little harbour to land some Salt and to take
in water and cocoa-nuts. At last, and after a nine days'
sail, we reached our destination.
The geographical position of the obscure port of
Mangalore may be most easily realised, by running an
imaginary line from Aden to that point of the western
WOL. I. B
2 A/PSEZF.
shores of India which lies midway between Bombay and
Cape Comorin. On nearing the coast and looking to the
eastward you will see a range of lofty mountains, run-
ning parallel to the seaboard, and at a distance of about
sixty miles inland. These are, as it were, the mighty
buttresses on which rest the table-land of Mysore,
which has an average height of 3,000 feet above the
level of the sea. This rugged and fantastic chain, now
receding into deep bays and again advancing boldly
like promontories into the sea, is called the Western
Ghauts, and forms the boundary between the plains of
the Mysore table-land and the lowlands which stretch
from the foot of the hills to the sea. But we have
to get from Mangalore to Munzerabad. Leaving, then,
the Arabian Sea behind us, and turning our faces to
the east, let us take the road which enters the Mysore
province by the pass of Munzerabad. Up to the foot
of the mountains we have to scale, Nature has thrown
few obstacles in the way, and the road winds pleasantly
along the banks of a river which rises in the frontier
land of Mysore. But as we near those dark defiles,
which are black with jungle and swarming with
elephants and bison, farther progress seems impossible.
The ingenuity of our engineers, however, and easily, it
appears to us, has overcome all the difficulties of the
route. The road winds, and twists, and turns, now
backwards, now forwards, sometimes steep, at other
times easy, but always tending upwards. We toil up
an ascent of about 3,500 feet, and at last to east,
north, and south we see the land old Hyder ruled
over, and which he often predicted his half-mad son
would assuredly lose. The western frontier shows little
of the signs of warfare; but towards the termination
A/UVZERA/3.4 D. 3
of the pass, the star Fort of Munzerabad and the grave
of the only English officer killed at an engagement
that took place in the vicinity, remind us of the
struggle which terminated with the fall of Seringapatam
and the death of Tippoo. And some miles to the south-
east the jungle of Arekerry is pointed out as the spot
where Arthur Wellesley quelled the last shadow of
resistance to British sway.
The talook, or county, of Munzerabad, which forms
part of the western frontier of the Mysore state, runs
north and south about fifty miles, and has an average
breadth of about twenty. It is bounded on the south
by Coorg, on the north by the Nuggur division of
Mysore, on the west by Canara, and on the east by the
adjacent counties of the province. The general features
of the landscape may be easily described ; but what
shall I say of that transcendent scenery which has often
gladdened my heart, and lightened a solitude that would
otherwise have been unendurable? What of those wild,
fantastic hills, and those pleasant, park-like glades 2
What of those sparkling streams which, tumbling in
Crystal cascades from inaccessible clefts and heights, rush
down the jungle-clad ravines to join the rivers which
speed towards the western sea 2 What of those gorgeous
sunsets, and that splendid cloud scenery which, when the
monsoon bursts along the Western frontier, presents such
a bewildering and fleeting series of combinations that
the eye can hardly catch them, and the memory fails to
retain anything but a vague impression, of all that can
be conceived of the sublime and beautiful? What of
the tropical verdure and the varied flora 2 What of
those combinations of scenery, which are probably un-
matched in any quarter of the globe 2 It would be
B 2
4. MPSAEZA'.
impossible, indeed, to exaggerate them; but there are
times when half is better than the whole. To him who
has an imagination the following sketch will suffice. To
him who has none no amount of word-painting would
answer my purpose.
After toiling up the Munzerabad ghaut we gained an
elevation of about 3,500 feet above sea-level. Let us
toil up some 1,500 more, and take a bird’s-eye of the
country from one of those lofty summits which overhang
the passes farther north. We choose the earliest dawn,
partly to avoid the tropical sun, partly for the chance of
a shot at a bear or bison, and climb through the region
of the morning mists into the purer atmosphere of the
highest peaks. At last the topmost height is gained, and
we look down on the misty sea which shrouds the land
below. But the milky vapour soon yields to the rays of
the fierce tropical sun, till peak after peak of the lesser
hills appear like islets in the ocean; and presently the
rising breeze and the fast-mounting sun dissolve and
dissipate those “aërial draperies” which hide the land-
scape from the view. And now we have a bright blue
sky, and that transparent atmosphere which is seldom to
be met with except at high elevations in the tropics.
Turning our backs to the Arabian Sea, and looking to the
east, the eye rests for one moment on the buildings of a
farm at the mountain foot, and then gazes delighted over
a foreground of parky undulating land, interspersed with
rice-fields in the hollows, and broken at intervals with
miniature mountains; then across a long line of mist
which still lingers over Hemavatty, and finally loses
itself in the wide-spreading plains of the table-land.
Pleasant is the prospect to those who love the signs of
civilisation and the haunts of man, but pleasanter far to
SCAEAVERP. 5
the sportsman and the lover of the wild solitudes of the
jungle is the westward view. Towards the east man is
going forth to his labour, and “the smoke's blue Wreaths
ascending in the trees” tell of many a jungle-hid hamlet;
but to the west that sylvan sea, which, commencing
3,000 feet beneath us, stretches miles away to the bright
green rice-fields of a village beyond the frontier, gives
forth no sound but the shrill call of the jungle-cock and
the discordant cry of the sawyer-bird. To the south
the view is bounded by the blue hills of Coorg, and to
the north by a chain of mountains, which, leaving the
range of ghauts at right angles, runs from west to east,
and so projects far into the table-land.
Having thus introduced the reader to the country,
and attempted to describe the general features of the
landscape, I shall now relate what took me to Munzera-
bad, and what I did there.
When I ascended the pass of Munzerabad, in the
year 1855, the only signs of European civilisation
consisted of the road I traversed, the travellers’ bun-
galows, and the residence of a single planter which
occupied a commanding situation at the head of the
ghaut. An accident had furnished me with an intro-
duction to the occupant of that lonely house, and with
information of what is hungered after by younger sons,
namely, a spot where a trifling capital can, with
industry and enterprise, be turned into a comfortable
livelihood. At that time the pay of a labourer was only
four shillings and sixpence a month, forest land was to
be had for the asking, on the condition that it should be
planted with coffee, and as the tax was levied on the
produce at the rate of two shillings a hundredweight,
the Government made consequently no call on a settler’s
6 A/PSAE/A"
resources until his estate came into bearing, or, in other
Words, till he was reaping the rewards of his labour. The
advantages of the situation were evident, and I imme-
diately applied to the Government for a grant, which,
however, I was unable to procure till the short clearing
season was over. But my time was usefully employed
in picking up Canarese, and acquiring what information
I could on my friend’s estate, though from the fact of
it being an old one the experience gained was of little
value; for it seems almost superfluous to add, that carry-
ing on an old plantation and opening a new one involve
very different operations. What was more to the purpose
was, that of two new-comers, who procured land and
commenced operations at the same time as myself, one
was a Ceylon planter of experience, and his example
and practice as to plantation management were con-
sequently of the greatest value.
The lands suitable for coffee may be divided into two
classes: firstly, village forests; and, secondly, what
may be called the ghaut forests, which clothe the slopes
of the frontier hills. The first are limited in extent,
but from their being surrounded by villages from which
labour can be drawn and food procured, are of course by
far the most desirable. The ghaut forests, on the other
hand, are generally remote from villages, and every-
thing, therefore, has to be brought from a distance to the
estate. Surrounding the village forests are rice and
raggee fields, and a weekly market is seldom far distant;
while from the ghaut forests not a sign of cultivation is
to be seen, and there may not be a bazaar within five or
six miles, or even farther. The forest lands in the
vicinity of each village were claimed as common by the
people of the village, but Government, after some hesi-
STAA’7”/AWG 7'HE PLAAV7'A TVOA’. 7
tation, finally decided on recognising no right in forest
lands whatever unless a grant from the State could be
shown, and thus was the question finally settled. The
land I had selected was one of the village forests, about
twelve miles distant from my friend's estate, and about
the same from the grants of the two new-comers, who, as
I before mentioned, commenced operations at the same
time as myself.
On my start as a planter it is difficult to look back
without a smile. My household establishment consisted
of one servant—a cook by profession—but who in addi-
tion to that duty did all the work that is usually done
by several servants in the south of India, and what only
a multitude will undertake in the north. His pay was
fourteen shillings a month. My plantation establish-
ment consisted of a lad of sixteen, of the farmer caste,
who had been taught some English in the school at
Hassan (the head-quarters of the district), and who
could read and write Canarese, and of a Mussulman,
who was by profession a gardener. The pay of the first
was ten shillings, and of the second fourteen shillings a
month. With this magnificent establishment I took the
road to my new home. My tent and cooking utensils
preceded me in a cart, and I followed on a Maharatta
pony. It was on the 1st of October, 1856, at the close
of the rains, and the commencement of the clearing
season, that I pitched my tent on a bit of grass land
adjoining the forest I had obtained a grant of. A farmer
from the adjacent village promptly undertook to procure
labour, and I at Once engaged him on a salary of ten
shillings a month. What he promised I really forget
at this moment, but I well recollect his arrival on the
following morning with the disheartening number of
8 J/PSAE/AW.
six men. To produce any sensible effect with such
a number was of course impossible, but I was at that
happy age which neither makes difficulties nor counts
odds, and at the head of my force I marched into the
forest and commenced cutting some preliminary lines
through the underwood. In a few days, however,
things wore a brighter aspect. Men dropped in
gradually, and my force soon rose to about thirty
people. But I had not been at work for more than a
few weeks when a very unexpected difficulty arose,
and in this way:—As I was sitting in my tent during
the heat of the day, news was brought me that a
number of the villagers were forcibly opposing the
clearing of the forest. I reflected for a few minutes and
then took the field armed, not with my gun and rifle,
but with pen, ink, and paper, which are very effectual
weapons when skilfully used. I found on my arrival a
scene which threatened to prove exciting. The opposing
force thought they had a right to the land I was clearing
as it was close to their village, and were determined to
resist my people, who, on an exhibition of force, had
desisted from clearing until they had my orders to
proceed. My opponents, who were merely armed with
knives similar to those used in clearing underwood,
were in the minority, and I could easily have disposed
of them had I wished to do so. But I caused my clerk
to explain to them that, if the leader would sign a paper
declaring that they forcibly prevented my clearing the
jungle, I would draw off my party. They assented, and
my clerk drew up a brief statement to that effect, which
they were imprudent enough to sign. I then drew off
my men to another part of the forest and at once
despatched the document to the native magistrate, who,
A)/FF/C U/C TV.E.S. Q
in the course of a few days, came down with a strong
force of police. He investigated the case, adjudged
that I was in the right, and ordered some of the forest
to be cut in his presence. When it came to the
question of punishment I begged for a free pardon.
My request was readily complied with. Some of my
opponents entered my service shortly afterwards, and
one of them rose from the position of labourer, and is
now the most valued and trustworthy overseer on my
property. -
The preceding incident illustrates a singular weak-
ness that I have often observed amongst these people,
and which impels them, though a very shrewd-headed .
race, into temporarily getting rid of a difficulty by the f
adoption of means which they must know will probably Yug-e
be used against them. They will make admissions |
when they are in a dilemma, and then trust to thinking
of something afterwards which will nullify their º
position. -
Having thus got over this little difference with my
native neighbours, things went on well enough for a
couple of months. But about the commencement of
December the rice harvest came on, my force in con-
sequence fell off, and I was again reduced to nearly the
same number of men that I had taken the field with
originally. I looked forward, however, to their return
to work at the conclusion of the harvest. But the
harvest wages, which were paid in kind, furnished them
with an ample supply of food for the remainder of the
fine weather season, which, beyond a little ploughing
and other trifling work, is usually taken up with feasts
and marriages, and, to our ideas, general idleness, which
is naturally encouraged by the hotter months of
I O Al/PSEZA'.
February, March, and April. The work of a planter,
however, goes on with little respite during any season
of the year, and in opening a new plantation these
months of idleness to the natives require the greatest
activity. For the land cleared in October, November,
and December, and part of January, must be prepared
for the reception of the young plants, which are trans-
planted from the nursery to the plantation about the
commencement or middle of June. I was now at my
wits' end for labour. I turned over stone after stone
without the smallest success. At last I hit upon an
unexpected vein of labour—a vein which had been
worked pretty freely in former times, but the very
mention of which must be surprising to modern ears.
In my extremity I wrote to the amildar for assistance.
He replied that he himself could do nothing, but he gave
me a note to a headman whose authority was then supreme
in my own and two adjoining parishes. He had recourse
to a process known as “bitee,” in other words, forced
labour, and sent me fifty first-class men, who were to be
paid at the rate of four shillings a month. These, added
to the people I procured voluntarily, enabled me to
get through the season's work, and by the end of July
I had planted about eighty acres, besides having
built a sun-dried brick thatched house, 30 feet by 20,
which I partitioned into two rooms. I got into my
house just before the rains set in, and considered myself
extremely fortunate. Of internal comfort there was not
much to boast of; but the climate during the monsoon
months required fires in the evenings, which, though
never absolutely cold, were chilly from the incessant
rain, and the most cheery thing inside the house was
the bright wood fire which lit up the roof and rafters of
AJA'A JVPA CATS OF 7'HZ' MAA'/'. 1 I
my cozy little dwelling. I had, however, some trouble-
some company, and, a substance that few people would
have cared to keep near large fires in a thatched house.
Rats were my company, and the substance alluded to
consisted of half a ton of gunpowder, which was stored
in large earthenware pots, the mouths of which were
merely covered with cloth or matting. The Govern-
ment had lately been selling off a lot of old stores, and a
friend of mine persuaded me to purchase some of the
gunpowder, with the view of selling a portion, and
partly to give away in presents to my native neighbours.
The powder arrived in bags, and it being necessary on
account of the damp to keep it in a dry place, and as
there was no room in the kitchen, my own house was
the only alternative. Shortly after the arrival of the
powder my house on two occasions narrowly escaped
a conflagration, and, if I may judge by the effect of the
Clerkenwell explosion, the result of living with half a
ton of gunpowder might have been rather astonishing.
Now that I had fairly settled down, and that the
novelty of the situation had in some measure worn off,
I began to experience some of the drawbacks and annoy-
ances of the life I had selected—the greatest, of course,
was the isolation from any white face. For weeks
---------------------> *-*T*
----— ----------
together I had often no opportunity of speaking my own
language, and so rare was a European visitor, that when
one of my three white neighbours found time to pay me |
a visit, I used to sit up on a hill near my house and
watch for his arrival as for a sail at sea. lº
As I rose early and attended to work all day, the
tedium of solitude was not much felt until after dinner.
Then, when I was left to the rats within and to the
jackals, who seemed to select the neighbourhood of my

I 2 A/PSELA'.
house as their special howling-spot, the life seemed far
from agreeable. The leaders of solitary lives, too, seldom
sleep well, and the reason of this probably is that a
certain amount of ideas accumulate during the day, and,
unless worked off in conversation, keep the mind busy,
and the body sleepless. The force of habit, however—
a force which people who have not been placed in
various situations in life can never realise, and which
completely upsets all one’s anticipations as to what
one would feel under particular circumstances—this
equaliser of all situations except cold, hungry, and
earthquaky" ones, soon made things tolerable, and in
time I think I rather got to like the rats. The main
body of them were field-rats, and at a certain time,
generally after I had got into bed and put out the
candles, I used to hear them regularly filing into the
house. The ceiling of my room consisted of loose planks
laid across the beams of the house, and the rats had
therefore a convenient race-course. Some of them used
to come on to my bed; and there is something not
unpleasant in the tickling sensation caused by a rat
sniffing about one's head and face, when one is half
asleep. After remaining about an hour they would
suddenly disappear, to return again the following night.
The fact of my becoming, at least, indifferent to the rats,
did not, however, prevent me from endeavouring to
reduce their numbers, and the coolie I had reserved for
water-carrier, feasted gloriously on the bodies of the
slain. Digging for field-rats at certain seasons is a
favourite pursuit amongst the coolies, who not only eat
* People, I may observe, never get used to and indifferent to earthquakes, as
they do to most other dangers, and this, I believe, arises from the effect produced
on the system by the condition of the atmosphere.
A/OA&AE ZOAA WAPA C K.S. 13
the rats, but consume the grain they have stored up for
future use.
The liability of everything and every animal to be
attacked is a constant source of annoyance. White ants
eat down your house, panthers carry of your dogs, and
tigers your cattle; jackals plunder one's poultry yard by
day, and various kinds of jungle-cats scratch or force
their way into your henroost at night. If you have a
dozen sheep you must have a boy to watch them. If
you send your ducks to the water you must have a
duck-herd. Even then they may not be quite safe;
and loud was the lamentation of my duck-herd one day
when he returned home with the marks of a jackal's
teeth in his leg, and one of the ducks missing. A jackal
attacked the ducks, and as the boy ran forward to defend
them another bit him in the leg. The diversion was
effectual, and the jackals ran off with their duck. The
jackal is the fox of Indian fable, and well does he
deserve the title. Nor was the preceding instance the
only one I could relate of their singular powers of
combination.
The long wet months, extending from the end of May
to the middle of September, though cheering as regards
the health of the plant, add little to the cheerfulness of
the life. Breaks of a week or even ten days occasionally
7ccur, but for many weeks continuously does the rain
pour on, sometimes dying away into light showers, but
always raining on, day and night. The longest stretch
of this sort that I remember was one of eight weeks'
duration. The unfailing resources of habit, however,
Cóme again to our aid, till at last the drenching rain
becomes as much a matter of indifference as the dreary
howling of the jackals, and day follows day with that

I 4 A/PSAEZA'.
similarity which must ever be the lot of those who have
to earn their bread by the sweat of their brow.
The old Hindoo philosophers taught that the world
is merely an ocean of illusion, that nothing is real,
and that everything a man sees is as an oyster-shell,
which appears to be silver, but is not. And, in sober truth,
there seems to be more in the idea than one could, at first
sight, possibly imagine; and year by year one is rudely
awakened from favourite and soothing reflections as to
the nature of things around us. Those flowers, you
thought, were of beautiful colours and fragrant smell, in
order solely that the eye and sense and mind of man
might be pleased and gladdened. At last, however, some
scientific observer touches you on the arm and says, “At
any rate it is as well to think so.” You may not be
quite convinced when he tells you that the reason of the
flowers being of gay colouring and fragrant smell is
merely to attract those insects which carry from plant to
plant that fertilising dust which is necessary for the
propagation of the plants themselves. Nor yet is con-
viction quite established when he points to the fact that
flowers with no gay colouring can be fertilised perfectly
by the wind, while those of brilliant hue cannot. But a
number of low doubts arise in the mind, and the illusion
you have so long enjoyed, if not quite shivered, is at least
broken. Those wondrous nests again, which you long
thought were at once made by some inscrutable order from
above, seem actually to have attained their present shapes
and perfect adaptability through the Vulgar agency º
experience. And the naturalist points to the fact of
gay-coloured birds invariably building nests with covers,
while brown birds build them without. The first from
the risk of the gay plumage attracting the eye of hawks
JZZ US/O/WS. I 5
and enemies in general; the second because no such pro-
tection is necessary. You read of the traveller, who,
sick and weary, lies down to rest under the scanty shade
of a tree so parched by the fierce tropical sun that its
shelter is almost a delusion, and when you read further
of his turning restlessly, and finding himself face to face
with some grinning skull, the picture of misery seems
complete. Here, at last, we think, is something like a
reality. But this too is an illusion. The reason why
more people do not discover the extent of illusion is,
that few have had their opportunities of observation
sufficiently extended. The consequence is that they pass
through the ocean of illusion without any opportunities
of discovering what the nature of their sensations would
be under particular circumstances. The study of one's
sensations is at once interesting and surprising, but it
has its disadvantages, and I am not at all certain that it
is not an advantage to add to one’s illusions, instead of
lessening them. Of one thing we may be certain, and
hat is that the awakening to realities has a tendency to
Jessen one's sympathy and one's sense of pity. But is it
worth while to indulge in artificial sensations 2 Is it
worth while to believe that people feel what you may
imagine they feel, merely in order that you may indulge
and practise your sense of pity ? A lady, well known in
the London World, once told me that a poor woman, on
whom she had been lavishing some evidently superfluous
pity, said, “My lady, don’t you make so much of all
this. We don’t feel these things half as much as you
think, and,” she added, “many of us wouldn't change
places with you if we could.”
To return to our traveller lying face to face with the
skull of some man who must evidently have laid down
I 6 MPSELA'.
to die by the roadside. Some years ago, when travelling
from Munzerabad to Bangalore, I was seized with low
fever, which commenced during one of the longest stages
on the route. Somewhat imprudently, I happened to be
travelling at mid-day when the season was at the hottest.
When I reached one of the halting-places, the bullocks
that ought to have been ready were nowhere to be seen,
and I accordingly despatched my servant to the nearest
village in search of them. The heat was intolerable,
and I left my grilling coach and threw myself down
under the delusive shelter of a scorched-up tree. Pre-
sently I turned, and there, face to face, was a clean dry
skull, which, somehow or other, I had overlooked at first.
I lay there and thought to myself, Here is the ideal
situation, how do I feel ? The thing was suggestive,
and, as I lay with the skull alone for company for about
half an hour, I am sure I had plenty of time for reflec-
tion. But, like everything else, the thing was an
illusion, which would have done very well for a tra-
veller's book, and produced perhaps a sensation at the
fireside. The circumstance, like many other circum-
stances in this world, seemed wretched, and pitiable, and
deserving of sympathy. But it was like our oyster-shell
we started with, which seemed to be silver, but was not.
And why, it may be asked, should I gossip on after this
fashion? Well, the gossip may not have the effect
intended, but it is simply to convince those who hope to
carve a fortune out of the jungle or the bush, that all the
circumstances they can possibly conceive as likely to
occur will turn out to be illusions. Their misfortunes will
certainly turn out to be illusions, and it is just possible
that their successes may turn out to be illusions too.
But we must now return to our account of the climate
of Munzerabad.
7"HE SEA.S.O.V.S. 17
The long wet months of the south-west monsoon,
which extends from May to September, add little, as we
have seen, to the cheerfulness of the life; but the mon-
soon rains itself out at last, and by the end of September,
and during October, November, December, and January,
we have fair cool weather, which is all the more Welcome
from the contrast it presents to the preceding wet
months. On a new plantation the fine weather is again
occupied in clearing and preparing more land for coffee;
but in the case of an old estate, or at least an estate in
bearing, the scene is a far busier one, for the crop ripens
in November, and picking is seldom over till the middle
of January. In March and April the weather is at its
hottest, and these months are commonly ones of great
anxiety to the planter, as the blossom-showers are then
expected, and on the supply of rain depend the prospects
of the season. A few Indian thunder-showers make
things quite safe, but a scanty downfall develops insuf-
ficiently the young buds, which, if the tree receives a
short supply of rain, fail to come into full bloom, and
are soon burnt off by the fierce tropical sun, just as our
peach blossoms in this country are often destroyed by an
untimely frost. But coffee-planting deserves, and shall
have, a separate chapter. My object here is to give some
account of the life. -
From what has hitherto been said, I am afraid the
reader will not think the life of an Indian settler a very
lively one. But it is a black cloud which has no light
lining, and the sports which lend a charm to the life
of a planter were enjoyed with a zest which I find it
impossible to repeat in civilised countries. I do not say
that it is advantageous to cultivate a state of violent
contrasts, but when accident has led one into a life that
WOL. I. C
I 8 A/PSE/LA’.
presents such vivid changes from monotony to excite-
ment, the desire to return to it is extremely strong.
Washington Irving's Captain Bonneville seems to have
been a quiet, peaceable sort of man, and yet he returned
to civilised life with reluctance, and had always alonging
eye for the wilderness. The adventurous life that he led
was of course very different from ours, but the difference
was more One of degree than of kind. His contrasts
were the most vivid attainable—monotonous camp life
and hazardous adventures. Ours consisted of monotonous
plantation life varied with the chase of the tiger, bear,
and bison. But I believe that with old hands the force
of habit is stronger than the love of those adventures
which at first are the great attraction to a wild life.
Unconsciously does the human animal strive after uni-
formity. Some from habit wish to be uniformly excited,
others seek after serenity, and others like to have a little
of both. But whether one’s groove be wild or tame—
travelling or stationary—it is not the less a groove which
One quits with reluctance and longs to resume. How-
ever all this may be, it is certain that our only pastime
brought with it an amount of pleasure which seemed
to compensate for all the drawbacks I have enumerated.
Nor were the pleasures of sport the only advantages to
be derived from our hunting expeditions; for not only
does success in the field increase one's popularity, but
it gives opportunities of obtaining an insight into the
manners and disposition of the natives which could not
otherwise be attained. And the way in which I went to
work brought me into closer contact with them than had
I pursued the usual course of going out with hired
beaters and shikaries. In my sporting expeditions every
one fought for his own hand, the party consisting of
SPORT. - I 9
the farmers and some of the todyman caste. Some
brought their long matchlocks, others acted as beaters,
but none sought any reward but their share of the meat,
or of the reward (£3 10s.) in the case of a tiger being
killed. Whoever shot a deer or a boar was entitled to
the hind leg; the remainder was cut into pieces about
two inches square, and carefully divided amongst the
rest of the party. Generally speaking, I went out alone
with the natives, but at rare intervals two or three of
the four planters in the district would meet at some
favourite hunting-ground in the mountains, and pass the
night in a rudely-constructed hut. This enabled us, of
course, to catch the game at dusk and at the earliest
dawn.
When I went out with but a few of the natives—
perhaps only six or eight beaters—we had to make up
by skill what was wanting in numbers, and it is really
astonishing to see how much can be effected by the
judicious efforts of a few determined men. This is more
especially the case with tigers, whose movements may
be calculated on with the greatest accuracy where they
are neither hurried nor worried by the beating of drums
and the shouting of beaters, which, where the country is
of a mountainous nature, with long strips of jungle along
every ravine, is a wholly unnecessary accompaniment.
The way I generally went to work was to post myself
and one of the natives, to whom Ilent one of my guns,
in the tracks by which the tiger would naturally go
when crossing the country on his own account. My
beaters then entered the jungle in silence, but walking
carelessly, and gently tapping a tree now and then. The
tiger would then imagine that it was merely aparty coming
for firewood, or some such purpose, and not liking to be
C 2
zo MPSE/LA'.
disturbed, would stroll out of the ravine into the next,
turning back every now and then to listen, till he
gradually came to the fatal bush or rock, when a single
bullet not unfrequently terminated his existence. When,
however, the shot does not prove immediately fatal, the
sport, from being comparatively safe, becomes positively
dangerous, for you have to run round to head him at
the end of the next ravine, and may perhaps have the
pleasure of meeting the animal at a disadvantage to your-
self. Breathlessness and excitement are unfavourable
to accuracy of aim, and I was once much amused at the
result of about half-a-dozen shots which I and my
native friends fired at a wounded tiger bounding in the
open. In the first instance the tiger had been wounded
by me, but the ball being slightly misplaced did not
prove immediately fatal, so we had to run and cut him
off at the next ravine. We were just in time, but the
only person who struck the tiger was myself, and the
ball took effect on the foot. He fell dead in the air at
the end of a long bound, and from the fact of there only
being one body-wound, and from the blood after my first
shot, it was certain that the second discharge was a com-
plete failure. Following a wounded tiger on foot into
the jungle is also dangerous; but I was always careful
of my people, and only lost one man out of thirteen
tigers I was in at the death of near my house. These
accidents are no doubt pleasantly exciting on paper, but
when you carry home a dead man along with your tiger-
skin the result is rather a gloomy one. Then there is
that rolling apprehensive eye, partly betokening pain,
partly the fear of that sudden death we all pray to be
delivered from. Not very pleasant to look at, too, are
those ghastly wounds which you charitably affirm can
7/GER.S. 2 I
easily be healed, but which you well know must soon
prove fatal. It is seldom that a man recovers from
severe tiger wounds, but recovery does sometimes happen
under very desperate circumstances, and in one instance
that fell under my own observation, a young farmer
recovered from no less than thirteen wounds inflicted by
a wounded tiger. To save his neck and head the Indian
thrust his doubled-up arms, elbow foremost, into the
tiger's mouth, and the long canine teeth went through
and through, causing a most curious complication of
wounds, and lacerating the sinews terribly. I had him
carefully tended in my own house, but his recovery took
a long time. His arms swelled to an enormous size, and
to allay the inflammation, cold water had to be dropped
on the bandages day and night. For about a year he
had not the use of one arm, but now he has the complete
use of both. His was the first bad accident we had met
with, and I was determined to get the tiger. We com-
menced on him on a Thursday, when the native was
wounded; wounded the tiger again on Friday; took up
the tracks again on Saturday, and killed him at about
three o'clock. The tiger is not an animal that ever
excites one's pity, but the melancholy, bedraggled ap-
pearance this animal presented after being hunted and
wounded for three days in succession, seemed really
deserving of some commiseration.
Tigers seem to me to be of more variable character
than any animal I have met with—in some instances
cowardly, in others quite disposed to take the initiative;
sometimes of vacillating temperament, at others evincing
great consistency and determination. The well-fed tigers
of the Western Ghauts are on the whole very well dis-
posed. They kill plenty of elk, bison, and boar, and
22 A/PSAE/L/7.
though they occasionally help themselves from the herds
of the natives, I have never known them attack man
unprovokedly.” Nor do they approach near to the
houses of the villagers to kill cattle, and it is generally
When the herds are grazing at a distance that the tigers
make their attack. I recollect, however, one exception
to this. When I was returning one day from a fruitless
tiger shikar, a farmer came running after me to say that
a tiger had killed a cow not eighty yards from his house,
which was surrounded with forest, the underwood of
which had been cleared, and the land planted with
coffee. I was a long way in front of my people, and
having only a single-barrelled rifle with me, was in some
doubt. As, however, the sun was just going down, and
the tiger would probably return to the carcass at dusk,
I said that I would go and have a look at the tiger,
though I had no intention of firing unless I could get
him at a disadvantage. I cautiously entered the jungle,
and there was the cow lying dead. I approached within
about twenty-five yards of the carcass, but could see
nothing of the tiger. All of a sudden there was a move-
ment amongst the coffee bushes on my right. I could
clearly distinguish something moving, and at once took
aim, when the farmer said very quietly, “Don’t fire,
that’s my mother.” And, Sure enough, there was the old
woman picking up firewood, and quite unconscious of
what had occurred. We had a hearty laugh. I went
home, and the tiger, for some reason best known to
himself, never returned for his meal. I could say a
good deal more about tigers, but the public has, I
* I happened to make this assertion one day to some natives in Munzerabad,
when one of them said, “It may be so, but a tiger once ate an aunt of mine not
very far from this.” This, however, is the only instance of man-eating, or
rather woman-eating, that I ever heard of in Munzorabad.
A/SOAV. 23
think, been sufficiently saturated with tiger-talk in the
numerous books which have been devoted to the sport.
One word, however, in favour of tigers—the only
one I ever heard spoken for them—and which shows
that even a tiger may be of some use. The superin-
tendent of one of the divisions in Mysore told me that
the natives complained to him of so many tigers being
killed, as they kept down the wild boars, which, as the
reader is probably aware, are extremely destructive.
The bison (Bos gaurus) roams over the mountains
and through the forests of the Western Ghauts, in herds
of from eight to twenty-three, the largest number I ever
met with. The bulls attain to a gigantic height, averag-
ing eighteen hands, and in two instances that have fallen
within my own observation reaching to twenty-one hands.
One of the latter I shot and measured myself. This
animal is not considered dangerous as a rule, but the
solitary bull is often excessively so. The suddenness
and rapidity of their charge, especially if they have the
advantage of ground, are such that I would advise most
people to get out of their way as fast as possible. Much
to my annoyance, a solitary bull some years ago killed
a very fine, plucky native overseer of mine; and con-
nected with his death there happened a very curious
coincidence. On the night previous my European
manager dreamt that he went out shooting with this
man, that the man was killed by a bison, and that he
found him lying stretched dead in a particular position.
The following morning the manager went out stalking,
and wounded a solitary bull. He sent the Indian on
the trail, and went himself to a spot where the bison
was expected again to break cover. My manager waited
a long time. He shouted, but no answer was made. He
24 MPSELF.
then took up the trail, with another native he had with
him, and they presently came upon the unfortunate man,
stone dead, and lying extended in the same position that
my manager dreamt he had found him. The wounded
bull went off, and the following year, I, in company with
a friend, killed the same bull, and it was more from
good luck than good management that he failed in
making an end of one or both of us. As regards man,
there is not a more harmless animal that roams the
jungle than the bison. It is seldom that they tres-
pass on the crops of the peasantry, and therefore the
thoughtless, heartless way in which the cows are often
destroyed is much to be deplored. The shooting of a
bull now and then affords sport, and does no harm to the
herd; besides, in the case of solitary bulls, getting rid
of the only dangerous members of the tribe.
The bear is an animal most of all dreaded by the
natives, and affords in many instances excellent and
amusing sport. In character the bear closely resembles
the wild boar, and, like the latter, though attacking man
with greater readiness, is seldom as fatal as the tiger.
But accidents occasionally happen, and the recommenda-
tions one sometimes gets as to the advantages of a
particular pass are frequently suggestive. “Stand here,”
said a native to me one day; “this must be a good place,
for at this very spot a man was killed by a bear last
year.” The rapidity and smartness of the bear's attack
are, considering the clumsy appearance of the animal,
very surprising, and if you want to test his speed you
need not run after him very far to learn how soon you
can be distanced. Our Indian Bruin, like all his tribe,
is fond of honey, and, from constantly prowling about
the villages in search of it, becomes familiar and often
A/EARS. 25
indifferent as to his proximity to man—plundering the
hives, in some instances, close to the door. He takes
himself off, though, in the day to some Snug cave in the
mountains, or to some out-of-the-way jungly ravine.
These caves are frequently on bare hill-sides, and as there
are few farmers who have not been robbed by Bruin some
time or other, they took a natural interest in marking
him down and bringing me the news. The boldness of
the natives in getting a bear out of a cave is great, and
the whole scene very amusing and exciting. Sometimes
the cave is not very deep, and with only a single and
rather narrow mouth. In that case Bruin can be poked
up with a long stick. But the bear knows the danger
of charging out, and is naturally averse to leaving home.
The native generally commences with a nervous, quiet
sort of poke, and the bear merely makes a demonstration
—a rush at the stick, and a furious growl at being
aroused out of his mid-day slumbers. Then the native
commences to abuse the bear and his remotest ancestors,
calls in question the purity of Bruin’s mother, and thus
exciting himself, pokes away in a more pronounced style.
At last the growls and rushes become fierce and menacing.
The Indian drops the stick and scuttles out of the way,
and bruin dashes headlong from the cave, to escape or be
killed as the case may be. At one of these caves there
occurred, some years ago, that mixture of amusement
and excitement so difficult to obtain in large game, or, in
fact, in any other kind of shooting.
About five miles from my house is a beehive-shaped
cave, projecting from one of the steep hill-sides. From
the upper side it is easily approached, but to get at the
mouth of the cave you have to step down from, as it
were, the roof of the beehive on to a ledge of rock,
26 - A/PSAE/LA'.
below which there is a drop of about ten or twelve feet.
From the absence of fresh signs I judged that bruin
Was not at home; but I thought I would gratify my
curiosity by looking into the cave, so I got down on to
the ledge with two natives, and rather imprudently
left my guns on the roof above. No sooner, however,
had one of the Indians penetrated a few feet into the
cave, which, at the entrance, was about five feet high,
than, with three furious growls, a bear charged head-
long, driving the intruder out with such force that
he went right over the ledge, and lighting (luckily) on
his side, rolled some way down the hill. Bruin then
With Wonderful readiness knocked down the other man,
who had not presence of mind enough to get out of his
Way, and inflicting a scalp wound of about five inches in
length on the back of his head, dropped over the ledge
and got off unharmed amidst a shower of bullets. In
the confusion that had occurred amongst the people on
the ledge, who were as much unprepared for the bear as
I was, some one had jostled my principal shikarman—
a testy, troublesome old man, though a fine sportsman—
and, to the great delight of every one, his shins had in
consequence been barked against a sharp piece of rock.
The fuss he made, and the amount of chaff he had to
sustain in consequence, quite rounded off the affair.
We all went home in high good-humour, and the
wounded man shows his scar to this day with consider-
able satisfaction. Some people might have objected to
the escape of old Bruin, but I confess that I did not
grudge him the victory he had earned so well, and we
fully consoled ourselves for our discomfiture with the
reflection that we would get the better of him next time.
Poking a bear out of a cave is a severe test of one's
A.ERVES. 27
nervous system, and principally, I conceive, because the
danger, while audible, is invisible. As far as my ex-
perience goes, the nerves are far more easily affected
through the ear than the eye, and I do not think I was
ever so much startled as I was one day when I put the
ramrod of my gun into a cave in which I thought there
was little chance of Bruin’s being at home. A she-bear,
all the fiercer because she had cubs, was, however, at
home, and when she rushed at the ramrod with a
furious growl the effect was by no means agreeable.
Nor has the danger you incur anything to do with the
matter. On the contrary, a bear in the open may run
right into you, and yet the effect on the nervous system is
as nothing compared with an invisible bear rushing with
a growl at the end of a stick. In the same way there is
nothing disturbing to the nervous system in seeing a tiger
Walk up within twenty-five yards, even if oné is seated
on ground of the same level; but there is something very
agitating in hearing the footfall of an invisible tiger
amongst the dry leaves of the jungle, or in hearing him
roar when you can’t see him. In fact, this action
through the medium of the ear is so much greater than
through the eye, that it is not too much to say that a
Dartridge rising close to one's feet is infinitely more
startling than the noiseless appearance of a tiger within
thirty or forty yards. - -
And here a few words as to the risks of large game
shooting may not be out of place, as it seems to me that
they have seldom been rightly estimated. A certain
amount of danger is, of course, indispensable, and you
may make the sport as dangerous as you please; but the
necessary and entirely unavoidable dangers are, it seems
to me, Very much exaggerated. Then the intentions of
28 MPSELF.
large game in making an attack are very often mis-
understood, and animals are often accused of deliberate
malice prepense when they are merely desirous of
securing their own safety by clearing you out of the
Way. It may be urged that, as long as you are charged,
the principle which actuates the animal will not affect
you one way or other. But a little consideration will
show that there is a very important difference, and the
following instance precisely illustrates my meaning.
Some years ago I was beating for a bear near my house,
and as the jungle was a large one, I put down my rifle
(a single barrel) and stretched myself at full length on
the grass, intending to conceal myself behind a tree
when the beaters came nearer. I was just thinking, of
I am sure I don’t know what, when, on looking up, I saw
a large bear attentively regarding me from the edge of
the jungle, which was distant about twenty yards. The
moment I moved he charged. I had just time to seize
my rifle, spring to my legs, dodge past him, and make
for the jungle from which he had been driven by the
beaters. But, as I anticipated, he only followed me a
few yards, when he turned and pursued his original line.
I then took my shot at him, which, from the surprise I
got, missed him. Had this been other than a clearing
charge, it is evident that I should have got the worst of
it; as it was, the risk I ran was comparatively trifling,
for old Bruin merely wished to remove an obstruction,
and had no intention of going a yard out of his way to
attack any One.
Then, again, a very small amount of caution at once
changes a possibly dangerous situation into one involving
a small risk, of which kind of situation the following
will serve as an illustration. On one occasion, when
A’/SATS OF A/G G 4 J//º SAMOOZ’/AWG. 29
out tiger-shooting, I was obliged to conceal myself by
sitting beside a small bush, which covered my person on
one side, but left it more than half exposed to view when
the tiger passed exactly opposite my front, which he did
on ground of about the same level as that I was seated on.
The bush in question was about one hundred yards from
the jungle, and the tiger, which had broken back through
the beaters, and therefore apprehended no danger at the
point where I intercepted him, came quietly along, and
stood for a few seconds within twenty-five or thirty
yards exactly opposite to me. When he had passed
my line by a few yards, and had therefore the coast
clear in front, I fired, and on he bounded, fatally
wounded. Now, had there been any danger in this case,
it would have been entirely of my own making. Had I
fired at the tiger as he came towards me, or perhaps
when he was standing opposite, he would have seen and
probably charged me; but the tiger's eyes are placed
well in front, and having only a forward vision, his
bound after my shot placed me far out of his line of
sight, and therefore entirely out of danger.
If, then, we take little account of clearing charges,
and estimate risks like the last-mentioned at their proper
value, we have then only to fall back on the aggravated
assaults of Wounded animals, and, from all that I have
seen or heard, the per-centage of attacks which result in
Wounds or death is extremely small. But if it is im-
portant not to over-estimate risks, it is equally important
not to undervalue them, and those who have asserted
that going into a jungle on foot after a wounded tiger is
not extremely hazardous have much to answer for. If,
however, we except that risk, the chances of your
meeting with a fatal accident in large game shooting but
3O A/PSAEZA' .
seldom occur. The people who really run most risk
are the beaters, and they are often accused of cowardice,
because they are unwilling to do what few of those who
taunt them would think of attempting.
If the preceding observations are well founded, it is
plain that anything approaching to headlong bravery is
seldom, if ever, required in large game shooting. What
is really required is a sort of calculating coolness, which
neither exaggerates nor under-estimates the risks that
have to be incurred. And this calculating coolness is
a faculty that may be cultivated, and very considerably
cultivated, too, even with people of nervous and excit-
able temperament. One of the best methods of cul-
tivating coolness is to try and distract the mind from
the matter in hand, so far as to consider the scenes you
are an active participator in as if you were merely a spec-
tator. Nor is superior safety the only advantage to be
derived from this way of hooking at things. The
picturesqueness of the situations that frequently occur
are often lost to the sportsman from excitement, or from
over-estimating the danger, and thus many a pretty
picture passes unseen, or rather unappreciated, and
entirely fails to leave a pleasurable and lasting impress
on the memory. In the majority of instances it is, of
course, impossible, unless with persons of extraordinary
self-possession, to take a pleasurable view of the situa-
tion, in consequence of the rapidly-shifting nature
of the scene; but pauses of a few seconds frequently
occur, which may be taken advantage of by people of
moderate coolness, to take as it were an outside view of
the position they occupy with reference to the animal
they are attacking, and to the general Surroundings.
The following is an instance where such a pause occurred,
CO/ ZYVA 7/AWG COO/CAVESS. 3 I
and the survey I had time to take showed me how much
I had lost in former sporting affairs, where I was too
much excited to enjoy the beauty of the scenes, or had
never thought of attending to them.
When I was returning one evening from an expe-
dition amongst the frontier hills, I unexpectedly came
upon a solitary bull bison grazing upon the side of a
very steep mountain. He had evidently just left the
forest below, and, as there was some cover between me
and him, I easily stalked up to within eighty yards or so.
At that point, however, my cover terminated; so, quitting
its shelter, I walked into a little open glade which sepa-
rated the jungly ravine I had taken advantage of from
the forest out of which the bison had come. The bison
was busy grazing, and did not observe me till I was
within fifty yards. By that time I had got exactly below
him, and was about twenty-five yards from the jungle
I knew he would be sure to make for, so that though
he would have to decrease the distance between us
before he reached the forest, I, being out of his line, ran
little risk of being charged. The moment the bull saw.
me I fired at the usual place, behind the shoulder. He
quickly turned, and confronted me, Snorting with rage.
But he presented no good chance for my second barrel;
So I paused, and he paused, and while we both stood
thus an accident made me look round towards my gun-
bearer, whom I had left at the edge of the cover, and
then I at Once took in the beauty of the entire picture.
The scenery was splendid—the faint rays of the setting
Sun gave light enough, and yet no glare—there stood
the bull, Snorting with rage, and apparently doubtful
whether to charge or not—there was myself in the
middle, and peering from the jungle edge was my
32 Al/PSE/LA'.
shikari, looking anxiously for the result. He was not
kept long in suspense. The bull slightly altered his
position. I fired my second barrel, and down he
charged into the forest. Although, however, my bullets
had taken effect, away went the bison, and we never saw
him again. But if I lost the bison, the picture remained
stereotyped on my memory, and affords at this moment
a more pleasant and vivid reminiscence than scenes far
more exciting and considerably more successful.
From what has been said, it seems evident that there
is a good deal more to be got out of sport than the mere
slaughtering of wild beasts, and while pointing out some
of the advantages to be derived from the chase, I might,
had I space, say a good deal on the many interesting
points that fall under one’s notice as regards the habits of
various animals. I shall here, however, only notice the
curious and interesting instances that I have met with
of feral animals not only being readily susceptible of
domestication, but of their at last preferring the company
of man to the society of their own species.
The first instance I have to notice is that of a stag
which belonged to a neighbour of mine. This animal,
which had been caught when a fawn, used to accompany
the coolies to their work and remain with them all day,
but in the evening it went away to the jungle regularly,
to return as regularly the following morning. It thus
roamed the jungle all night, and remained with man all
day. At last it became dangerous, as tame stags often
do, and had to be shot.
Another still more extraordinary instance was a pet of
my own—what the natives call a flying cat, but in
reality a flying squirrel—an animal that sleeps all day
and feeds at night, and is in habits somewhat like the
AZ7S. 33
bat tribe, though clearly of the squirrel order. Its
wings, if they can be called such, consist merely of a
flap of skin stretching from the fore to the hind legs.
When at rest this flap is not very noticeable, and the
animal presents, when on the ground or on the branch
of a tree, the appearance of a very large, grey-furred
squirrel. It cannot, of course, rise from the ground,
but when travelling from tree to tree, it simply starts
like a man on the trapeze—descending from one point, to
rise again to about a similar level on the opposite tree.
One of these animals was brought to me when it was
about half-grown, and soon came to consider my house
as its natural home. It soon found out an empty clothes-
bag hanging at the back of a door, and in this it slept
all day. It came out at dusk, and used often to sit on
the back of my chair at dinner, when it got fruit and
bread. After dinner away it went to the jungles, and I
seldom saw anything of it till about three in the morn-
ing, when it used to return to the house and curl itself
up at my feet. When I rose in the morning my pet
betook itself to the clothes-bag, and there spent the day,
to go through the same round the following night. This
interesting animal met with the usual fate of defenceless
pets, and was killed by a dog as it was making its way
to the jungle one night.
Another pet of mine was a hornbill, one of those birds
of discordant note, huge beak, and box-like crowned
head. This creature was also totally unrestrained, but
showed a decided preference for the society of man.
One day it joined some of its species which made their
appearance in the jungle near my house, but soon got
tired or disgusted, and speedily abandoned them. It
used to swallow its food like a man taking a pill; and it
WOL. I. D
34. MPSELF.
was surprising to observe the ease with which balls of
rice about the size of two large walnuts were despatched.
On one occasion it flew off with my bunch of keys, but
was luckily seen by my servant, who gave the alarm.
The bird threw back his head the moment he alighted
on a convenient branch, and it was only the ring that pre-
vented his bolting the entire bunch. Finding my people
close upon him, I had soon the satisfaction of seeing
him fly to a jungle some hundreds of yards off, where he
seemed to take a peculiar pleasure in dangling my keys
from the tops of the highest trees, and it was some time
before he let them drop, which I conclude he did merely
because he could not swallow them.
Now, none of the pets I have mentioned, it may be
observed, were made miserable by restraint; but it is
very remarkable that though all of them must have had
frequent opportunities of resuming the acquaintance of
their species, the force of habit seems to have chained
them to the places they had been accustomed to. It is
difficult to find any other reason than the force of habit;
but it is just possible that the following fact may have
something to do with their neglect of their own species.
It is well known that a great many animals and birds
refuse to, or cannot, propagate their kind when in a state
of confinement. Now, these pets of mine could not be
said to be confined in any sense, but it is just possible
that the altered conditions under which they lived may
have acted on their animal desires, and so have rendered
them indifferent to the society of their species. And
here I feel sorely tempted to gossip on about animals
and their habits. But it is time to bring this chapter to
a close, so I shall hurry through the remainder of our
jungle tenants as fast as possible.
PANTHERS–70VGLE-DOGS-SMAZZ GAME 35
The panther is an excessively troublesome and
destructive animal, coming frequently into the cattle-
sheds at night and carrying off a cow. It picks off also
calves, pigs, dogs, and even fowls. From its tree-
climbing propensities it is a most difficult animal to get
a shot at. The black panther (one of which was sent
from our province to Regent's Park) is extremely rare,
and I have only known of two being shot in the district
since my arrival in 1855. Though the panther can be
most dangerous if he chooses, I consider him the most
cowardly animal in the jungle, and the natives of
Munzerabad are certainly of the same opinion.
The jungle-dog hunts in packs of about six or seven,
but sometimes they hunt in couples. These animals seem
to confine their attention entirely to game; and though
it is alleged that they sometimes kill cattle, or rather
calves, no instance of their having done so has ever
come under my observation. -
Of deer we have four kinds—the sambur, spotted
deer, jungle-sheep (the barking deer), and a very small
animal which we call the hog-deer, though I am not
sure whether it is of the deer order. The wild boars are
numerous, and, the country being an impossible one for
the spear, they are invariably shot. Last of the four-
footed game comes the elephant, which generally con-
fines itself to the malarious and inaccessible jungles at
the foot of the passes. The elephant occasionally visits
the higher lands; but though one of a herd has been
shot on my land, I have never had the fortune to see
one, as they always happened to arrive during my
absence from the district.
Of small game we have pea-fowl, jungle-fowl, spur-
fowl, duck, teal, snipe, and several varieties of pigeons
D 2
36 - A/PSEZA'.
and doves, of which the imperial pigeon is the finest,
and by no means to be despised for the table. Hares
are seldom seen, and partridges only in the most eastern,
and therefore the driest, parts of the district.
Such, then, is the sport to be had ; and I need hardly
say that my natural fondness for it was of the greatest
consequence in making me acquainted with my nátive
neighbours as we went to the meet, or when returning
from the chase, or while resting in the jungle for an hour
or so to make our mid-day meal. In many instances, too,
it was convenient to sleep at one or other of the villages
which were contiguous to the best shikar grounds.
Sometimes I slept in the verandah of the house, my
sleeping-place screened off by a cloth which concealed
me from such of the family as occupied the verandah—
sometimes in the stack-yard in a little tent—and some-
times in the room that was used for pounding and
grinding rice. I whiled away the evening with talking
over what had been done during the day, laying our
plans for the morrow, and general gossip about the
country-side. Sometimes, when we were tired of this, a
shikari of mine, who had either a wonderful memory or
an active imagination, sang, in a sort of monotonous chant,
long stories of rajahs, ranees, and dancing girls, till at last
he used fairly to sing his audience to sleep. “When
will that tale come to an end?” I used sometimes to
ask, and the general answer was—“This tale, Wisdom,”
would need three days and three nights to finish it.”
Thrown thus on the natives for society, and on sport for
amusement, I made the most of the situation. I got
on with the people, and I have reason to think that
they did with me. I attended their marriages, feasts,
* The Indians usually address Europeans as Wisdom or Intelligence (Buddee).
AVA 77 VE V/S/7'OR.S. 37
and funerals. I have done what I could for them in
attending to the sick and dying. I was constantly a
referee in disputes amongst themselves. I have often
called them in to arbitrate between me and their own
people. I have employed people of almost every class
on my plantation, and have tenants who cultivate the
rice lands I found it convenient to purchase from the
natives, or obtain a grant of from Government. My
house towards sunset was the common lounge of farmers
from the villages. Some came to play quoits, some to
inquire the place of meeting for our next hunting
expedition, others merely for half an hour's gossip, to
hear the news of the day, the price of rice, the prospects
of the crops. Others, again, came to ask for medicine,
either for themselves or for sick members of their family.
On market-days, too, I had many visitors who used to
stop for a chat; and so in the course of time there was
hardly a thing in the country I was not acquainted with.
The women of the farmer classes were, when first I
settled in the neighbourhood, extremely shy; but, as the
people got to know me better, this gradually disappeared,
till at last, on the occasion of a marriage in one or other
of the adjacent villages, it became a common custom
for some of the women and children of the wedding-
party to visit my house, and gratify their curiosity by
a minute inspection of the interior. They looked at
the pictures and photographs, and at the deer and
bison heads on the walls; but women are never satisfied
if any place is withheld from examination, and they
invariably expressed a wish to look into my bedroom.
This wish being good-naturedly yielded to, the party
departed, well pleased with their visit to the white man’s
house.
38 MPSELF.
Enough has now been said to show that I have had
unusual opportunities of becoming acquainted with the
Indians of Munzerabad; and I need hardly say that
I have a good deal more to tell about them. But to
interweave an account of their institutions, customs, and
character with my own personal narrative would, it
seems to me, only confuse the reader. I shall, therefore,
divide the remainder of what I have got to say regarding
them into the following chapters.
CHAPTER II.
MY NATIVE NEIGHBOURS.
IN his Report of December 5th, 1804, the acting Resident
of Mysore, Colonel M. Wilks, observed that the “terri-
tories composing the present dominion of his Highness
the Rajah of Mysore had, from the remotest period of
tradition, been held by a number of polygars and petty
rajahs, whose possessions were incessantly enlarged,
diminished, or alienated, by a series of revolutions, which
it would perhaps be impossible to trace, and unprofitable
to describe;” and, as I entirely agree with him, I shall
make no attempt to trace the history of the province of
bullum, to which the county of Munzerabad originally
belonged. I shall, therefore, content myself with stating
that when Seringapatam fell in 1799, the Polygar of
Bullum, Wencatadry Naik, was only in possession of a
very limited portion of his ancestral country; and the
district over which his authority actually extended was
confined to the southern portion of the present talook or
county of Munzerabad. When, however, Seringapatam
fell, or shortly afterwards, this petty chief not only
refused to give in his adhesion to the new Government,
but even attempted to extend his authority further to
the north. The result of all this was that the new
Government could get no revenue from that quarter of
4.O MP AWA 7'ſ VE AWAE/GA/APOURS.
the ancient province of Bullum at all. Indeed, the -
natives of that part of Mysore seemed always to have
objected to the payment of taxes, and we are accordingly
informed by Colonel Wilks that, in the days of Hyder and
Tippoo, the presence of an army was always necessary to
enforce the payment of the revenue. For some time the
new Government seems to have had no leisure to attend
to that part of its dominions, and the natives no doubt
thought that they might as well keep their money till
an army of some sort arrived. Some ineffectual military
proceedings seem to have been taken against the country
not long after the fall of Seringapatam,” but it was not
till Colonel Arthur Wellesley took the field in person,
early in 1802, that the country was finally subdued.
His measures were complete and permanently effectual.
He first of all defeated the polygar and his followers at
the fortified jungle-village of Arekerry, which lay to
the south-east of the Munzerabad fort; and, as the chief
had succeeded in making his escape, Colonel Wellesley
pitched his camp at Hirimunday, a village in a central
part of the northern half of Munzerabad, and determined
to occupy the country till the polygar was captured.
The unfortunate chief was hunted from jungle to jungle,
till he was finally captured near the village of Oogahully.
In Montgomery's Report on Munzerabad, which has been
printed in the selections from the Mysore records, it
is asserted that Colonel Wellesley wished to treat the
polygar as a prisoner of war, and that he even caused
tents to be pitched for him, but eventually yielded to
the wishes of the poorneah (the able minister of the new,
* At least ineffectual as regards revenue, for, on looking over the Revenue
Accounts of Mysore, I find opposite the amount received from Bullum in 1801-2
this remark, “The first revenue received from Bullum.”
WEZZ ESZZP'S OCCUPA 7TWOAW OF MOZVZERAAEA/O. 4 I
or rather restored Hindoo dynasty), who urged the neces-
sity of an example to curb the rebellious disposition of
the people. No evidence is given in support of this, nor
can I find any allusion to it in Wellington's despatches.
The result is briefly told in Arthur Wellesley's letter to
Colonel Close, dated February 13th, 1802:—“We took
the rajah on the 9th, and hanged him and six others on
the 10th, and matters are brought to such a settlement
that I have broken up my detachment, and am on my
return to Seringapatam.”
In another of his letters, written on the 2nd of the
same month, he expresses an opinion as to the natural
strength of the country, which any one can easily under-
stand who has seen it, and which was as follows:—“I
don’t think that I ever saw a country naturally so
strong as this, and to the strength of which so many
additions have been made by the natives themselves.
Every village is a strong fortification, which it would
require regular troops to reduce.” But Wellesley was
not a man to do things by halves, and he accordingly
left a force behind him to occupy the country per-
manently, and issued orders as to the filling up of the
village ditches, and to opening up the country with
military roads. And in order that the villages might be
thoroughly accessible, it was ordered that a wide road
should be cleared through the jungle or forest which in-
variably surrounds them. In the Revenue and Expense
Accounts for 1801-2, I observe a charge for two thou-
sand men for ten months for “destroying the jungle in
Bullum ; ” and for some years afterwards a considerable
garrison was maintained in Munzerabad. But not even
an attempt at disturbance seems to have been made since
the time the country was occupied by Colonel Wellesley;
4-2 - MP WATIVE WEIGHBOURS.
and in Colonel Wilks's Report, quoted at the commence-
ment of this chapter, I find that “no part of Mysore has
been more tranquil than Bullum, since the period that
the actual authority of the Government was for the first
time introduced into that province in 1801-2.”
In the previous chapter I attempted to describe the
general features of the country, and a few remarks were
made on the extraordinary beauties of the scenery. It is
hardly necessary to add anything to what has been
already said, but I cannot help remarking that even
the Iron Duke, who seldom went out of his way to
notice any matter not directly connected with his
military undertakings, could not help, in one of his
despatches, making a passing remark on the beauty
of the country. Montgomery, too, whose Report has
been previously alluded to, says that “perhaps there is
no scenery in India more beautiful than the southern
parts of this tract, which, for the most part, resemble
the richest park scenery in England.” And, to one who
had long been absent from his native home, no doubt
this would naturally be the most attractive feature in the
general scenery; but, as I have previously pointed out,
the principal beauty lies in the wonderful contrasts
which may be seen at a single glance. Scenery stern,
rugged, and precipitous is always to be enjoyed; but
when you can contrast it, in almost a single glance, with
the softest features of an English park landscape, the
effect is heightened to an extraordinary degree. Even
amongst the hills themselves the contrasts are very
striking, and Nature seems to have furnished in a single
group every variety of mountain conceivable. In
Europe the Pyrenees are the Pyrenees, and the Cheviots
the Cheviots, with one common feature pervading each
CLASSIFICATION OF THE PEOPLE. 4-3
range of hills. But from a piece of elevated land not far
from the spot where Arthur Wellesley pitched his camp
of occupation may be seen a complete amphitheatre of
frontier mountains, presenting the greatest variety of
character: one an overhanging precipice of rock, from
which you may drop a stone thousands of feet into the
gorge below; the next all grass, and Softly rounded at the
summit, with cattle grazing on the slopes; a third rising
abruptly into a pointed peak, with feathery strips of
jungle clothing the lower ravines, and extending far up
the mountain-side; while to the north of the group
stretches a barren, serrated, rocky range, which in turn
is broken by hills of a milder type. But the reader has
by this time, no doubt, heard enough of the scenery of
Munzerabad, and we will now proceed to give some
account of its present inhabitants, and their ways and
methods of life.
The people amongst whom I lived may be divided
roughly into three classes: firstly, the farmers of the
country, who form, I should say, about one-half of the
population; secondly, the tody-drawers, or people who
extract and sell the juice of the Caryota urens palm ;
thirdly, the helot, or labouring class, who form, I should
say, about a quarter of the population. The tody-
drawer forms rather less than a quarter, I should think,
and the remainder is made up of potters, carpenters,
shopkeepers, and scattered members of various castes.
The farmers of the country are divided as nearly as
possible, I should say, into Lingayets, or worshippers of
Siva, and people who call themselves Wokkul Muckulloo. TN
The first are teetotalists and vegetarians; the second
may drink anything, and eat everything except the cow.
I have said that these men are farmers, but I should
44 MP AVA TVVE AWEIGHAEO UA’.S.
rather have said that, though some of the poorer are
merely the tenants of the rich, they are, for the most part,
landed proprietors, who do their own farming, sometimes
without, but generally with, the assistance of the helot
class. The people of Munzerabad, and also of the
northern division of Mysore (Nuggur, formerly Bednore,
till it was conquered by Hyder in 1763), seem always
to have been considered landed proprietors in every sense
of the word; and in Wilks's Report we read that “in
the provinces of Bednore and Bullum the property of
the soil is vested in the landholder; and the hereditary
right of succession to that property is held in as great
respect as in any part of Europe.” The land-tax seems
always to have been paid in money, and the various
Governments that claimed Supreme authority had nothing
to do but collect the tax when they could get it, which, as
has been shown, seems often to have been a matter of some
difficulty. But whatever may be the theory existing on
the subject, I fail to see that the people of these parts
enjoy any particular advantages beyond those of other
cultivators in the Mysore province. They have certainly
the right of selling their lands, but this is done in a way
which I conceive might be done in any other part of
India. A private understanding is come to between the
purchaser and the seller, and, after terms have been
agreed on, the holder sends in his resignation, and at the
same time an application for the land is made by the
purchaser, who receives a fresh grant from the Govern-
ment. In this way I have on several occasions pur-
chased rice-fields from people who, from various circum-
stances, wished to resign them.
It is difficult to imagine any set of people to be in
what may be called more comfortable worldly circum-
IVE/C/X-7'O-ZDO FAJ&J//ZR.S. 45
stances than the farmers of Munzerabad. When I first
went amongst them, some of the poorer, it is true, could
hardly find money to pay their annual tax with, and
often came to me for a temporary loan, to be paid off
after harvest; but after the rise in the price of grain,
which took place about the time of the mutinies, it was
seldom that I was asked to advance a shilling for
any such purpose, and this showed most conclusively
that not even the poorest were ultimately living from
hand to mouth. I have said the people were in com-
fortable worldly circumstances; but, in addition to this,
they are almost entirely deprived of the anxieties which
...A- - -- ~~:-"-" ºr *-ºs------------- *** *
usually worry farmers in other quarters of the globe.
Their cultivation was entirely a wet one, with the ex-
ception of the raggee, a small proportion of which is
annually grown on land under partial irrigation; and, as
the rice-fields are supplied from perennial springs which
never fail, your Munzerabad farmer may be said to be
independent of the weather. He simply turns on the
water, or turns it off, as he likes, and year after year
the same crops are grown on the land with hardly any
perceptible change. Some years, of course, one hears
complaints of the grain being light, or of slightly
improved or slightly deteriorated quality, but these
variations are so trifling as to be of little practical
importance. The rice harvest is generally got in by the
middle of December; and after turning up the soil to
expose it to the action of the air, the farmer has plenty
of time to go to feasts, fairs, and weddings, and to go out
shooting; and indeed he has, for the most part, one long
holiday from the close of the rice harvest till the begin-
ning of May, when he recommences his field operations.
Between the termination of the rice harvest and the
46 MP AWA 7/VE AWE/GAZAROURS.
recommencement of active field-work there are, however,
many odds and ends of work to be looked after, which
occupy at least some part of the year. Most families
have at least some coffee to pick and prepare for market,
and some grain to sell; and one of the family, or some-
times more, make an annual trip down the ghauts to a
place on the river near the western coast, some sixty
miles off. Here the rice and coffee are sold, and the
farmer, generally reloading his pack-bullocks with salt,
toils homeward again.
I may here notice a considerable change in the habits
of these farmers which has occurred within my own
recollection, and which has been alluded to in another part
of this book: I mean the readiness with which they
have taken to trading whenever opportunities occurred.
We are often apt to accuse the Hindoos of hoarding; but,
if I may judge from my own observation, there is pro-
\bably either a great deal of exaggeration in the common
charges made against them, or else a want of any safe
means of employing their money. When I first went
amongst these people there was little trade, and what
there was, was in the hands of the few native merchants
to be found at the villages at which a weekly market is
held. But the moment the farmers became better off—
partly from taking to coffee-planting, partly from the
rise in the price of grain—they took to trading,
and I have heard the native merchants assert that the
farmers had taken the trade of the country into their
own hands. The moment the rice harvest is over, the
well-to-do farmers who have money enough for the pur-
pose buy up as much coffee or grain as they can, and
make an expedition down the pass with all their own
surplus stock of rice, and any coffee they may have
A EA/D/LP TURAW TRADER.S. 47
grown on their own lands. They then return with what-
ever will pay best, and sell that to their friends at home.
After the season’s operations are over, the money is
hidden away till the close of the next rice harvest, to be
again used in a similar manner. These farmers are first-
rate men to deal with, and come to the point at Once as
to what they will or will not give. It is our custom to
sell a portion of the tail-end of the crop on the spot, º
the purchasers of my last year's coffee were entirely
farmers. This ready change of habit seems to be a very
satisfactory answer to those who are constantly deriding |
the Hindoos as a people bound down by a slavish)
adherence to hereditary customs.
One of the first things that strikes a stranger on
arriving in Munzerabad is, that on taking a bird’s-eye
view from one of the minor hills in the most populous
parts of the country, it is impossible to see even the
vestige of a house. You may look all round, and scan
every hollow, without being able to see even the smallest
signs of human habitations. On the slopes which are
free from jungle you will see the cattle grazing; and
along the hollows and margins of the numerous streams
that intersect the country you will see long strips of
bright green rice-fields; but these are all the signs of
life generally to be seen. If, however, you descend into
the hollows, and work your way along the edges of rice-
fields, you will come at last—and leading into the jungle
—to a lane worn deep with the tread of cattle and the
torrents of the South-west monsoon, and with banks on
either hand from ten to twenty feet high. On ascending
this lane, sometimes for a short and sometimes for a long
distance, you wind your way upward through the forest,
till at last you see in front of you the thatched buildings

48 ATP WA 77 WE AIE/GAZAROORS.
and Outhouses of a native farm. For some little distance
round the house the ground is generally clear of under-
Wood, and planted with jack and plantain trees, amongst
which some coffee bushes, all wild and straggling, are
commonly to be seen. Sometimes the cattle-shed is in
a separate building; but the house of a well-to-do farmer
generally is on One side of a square, the other sides of
which are composed of cattle-sheds; and entrance to the
courtyard is made through the sheds opposite the frontage
of the dwelling. The house is invariably thatched, and
varies in size, of course, with the means of the owner.
In the ordinary houses there is little or no attempt at
ornament; but the open verandah of the houses of the
richer classes is generally supported with handsomely-
carved pillars of wood. This verandah, which, whether
the house is built on the fourth side of a square or not, is
invariably closed at the sides, and open only at the front,
is the place where visitors are always received, and
where the unmarried members of the family generally
| sleep. In the interior of the house are the sleeping
apartments, and towards the back the place where food
is cooked. In wet weather a small fire is always kept
burning on the floor of the front verandah. The farm-
houses are nominally in villages, but in Munzerabad no
two houses are to be found together, as each dwelling is
surrounded by its own reserve of jungle land, which is
the property of the family. The houses are situated
with reference to the cultivation, and, as this is in long,
narrow, straggling patches, their houses are necessarily
far apart; and in some parts of the country half a mile
occasionally intervenes between one house and another.
The tody-drawers also have their houses entirely isolated,
and the only villages, in our sense of the word, are the
coolie hamlets.
FARM-HOUSES AND FARMERS. 49
I have often slept at these native farms when I
wished to shoot in a part of the country at some dis-
tance from my house. Sometimes I slept in a tiny
tent in the stackyard, with my mattress on a heap of
straw; sometimes in the room devoted to pounding and
winnowing the rice and other grain; sometimes at the
end of the verandah, with a cloth hung up as a screen.
It was impossible to help envying the simple habits º
these mountaineers, and their independence of all the
paraphernalia we are obliged to carry about with us
At one house where I often slept, the only signs of
luxury were the preparations made for the grandfather
of the family. For this old patriarch a plank used to
be produced, on which the thinnest of mattresses was
placed. For his head a hollow block of wood was pro-
vided. These were all put down close to the verandah
fire. The old man then commenced to undress, or, in
other words, undid the belt and cloth which girded his
blanket round his loins. This was superintended by his
youngest and favourite son, a lad of about fifteen, who
then dutifully hand-rubbed his father most carefully.
This sort of shampooing process being accomplished, the
old man stretched himself out, turned his back to the
fire, covered himself with his blanket, and was soon fast
asleep. As for the rest of the family who slept in the
verandah, and the people I had brought with me to a
as shikaries, they were at liberty to take six feet of
verandah wherever they liked; and, unbuckling their
belts and covering themselves with their blankets, the
whole party were soon asleep.
These farmers, have often large families, and com-
monly by a single wife. The old man above-mentioned
had, I think, nine or ten children from one wife.
WOL. I. E
50 MP WATIVE NEIGHBOURS.
A second wife is only taken, or nearly always so, when
the first proves, after some years' trial, to be unfruitful.
The natives do not care to have more than one wife;
and I have often been told that the quarrels arising
when there are more than one are a sufficient reason for
this. When the family remains united, the number of
people living under one roof is often very great; and
one old patriarch in Munzerabad had some years ago
no less than about eighty in family. This old gentleman
had no less than twenty-three children, and from only
two wives. -
The dress of the people is extremely simple, and con-
sists, like the very ancient Highland dress, of a single
blanket, invariably black, so disposed as to present the
appearance of a kilt at the knee, and girded round the
waist by a belt, with an iron catch at the back, into
which is hitched the large hacking-knife. The upper
part of the blanket is so disposed as to cover the left
shoulder and the chest, leaving the right shoulder free.
In some parts of the country the kilt has a fringe, which
hangs rather below the knee, but in our parts this is
seldom worn. From living in a hill country the men
have naturally deep chests, and calves to their legs
which would do credit to a Highlander. The women
are dressed also in a single piece of cloth, which is
wound round them in such a way as to cover the person
entirely down to the calf of the leg. It will be observed
here that the practice of men and Women is exactly the
reverse of ours. The men of Munzerabad wear low
and the women high dresses, while here the ladies
at least endeavour to dress as low as they decently can,
and the men are all covered. In Chambers's “Domestic
Annals of Scotland ” (vol. iii. p. 270) the figures of the
JD/ESCA’7P7/O.V AZE/GA/7' AAWD WEIGHT. 5 I
ancient Highland men and women are dressed very
similarly to the people of Munzerabad.
I have had six of the meat-eating caste weighed and
measured. In weight they varied from 8 st. 6lbs. to
10 st. 6 lbs., and in height from 5ft. 3in. to 5ft. 9in. In
the opinion of my manager, one of the number weighing
9 st. 8 lbs., and measuring 5 ft. 7 in., is about an average
specimen. I knew the individual in question, a man
who has been often out shooting with me, and agree
with my manager in thinking him a fair average man of
his race. Of this caste men as tall as six feet, or nearly
so, may occasionally be met with.
The vegetarian farmers (Lingayets) neither weighed nor
measured quite so much, and the result accords with my
observation, as they are generally of slighter build, and,
perhaps from seldom taking an interest in field-sports,
of more sedentary habits. In height those measured
varied from 5 ft. 3 in. to 5 ft. 74 in., and their weight
varied from 7 st. 12 lbs. to 10 st.
I have had no opportunity of weighing or measuring
any of the women; but they seemed to bear the same
proportion to the men, as to weight and height, which is
common in most countries. -
The men vary a good deal in feature, but as a rule
their features may be said to be regular, with straight
noses and thin lips; and many of the men are,
according to our motions, very handsome. Their manner
is at first somewhat reserved, and, as was observed in
Montgomery's Report, they well know how to pay respect
to those above them, as well as to exact it from those
beneath them. There is one respect in which they differ
very much from the natives of the open country of
Mysore, and that is in their habit of never becoming
E 2
52 MP WATIVE WEIGHAPO URS.
familiar. With natives of the plain you cannot be
familiar without their becoming disagreeably so with
you, or, in other words, without their losing a proper
respect. With the Munzerabad farmers, on the other
hand, you may be as familiar and friendly as you please
out shooting, without the slightest risk of losing their
respect for you, and I have often had occasion to admire
their tact in this respect. In complexion the men vary
a good deal, and generally in accordance with the
amount of exposure to the weather—the richer being
fairer, and the poorer somewhat darker, as a rule.
Their complexion is a light brown, and from that
to darker shades, but rarely approaching to black.
Instances occasionally happen of men with bluish-grey
eyes, and moustaches of a reddish tinge, but these are
very rare. The women are, many of them, very good-
looking, and fairer, of course, still than the men, being
but rarely exposed to the weather. It is seldom that
Europeans see them to advantage, as they are very shy,
and therefore appear to us to be a great deal heavier and
less intelligent than they really are. They generally
look happy and contented enough ; and, as widows left
in charge of a family, are treated with great respect, as
has been observed in another chapter of this work.”
Neither of these castes of farmers—the vegetarian Lin-
gayets, or the meat-eating Goudas, or Wokkul Muckulloo
—admits of any superiority on the part of each other,
and the head men, or potails, are sometimes of one caste
and sometimes of the other. The senior potail in the
talook, or county, however, is of the Lingayet caste.
Neither of these castes will, of course, intermarry, nor
will the vegetarian Lingayet eat of food prepared by the
* See remark in Chapter III., p. 120.
TOD P-DRA WERS. 53
meat-eating farmer, though the latter will eat of food
prepared by a Lingayet. This fact seems to show a
practical admission of superiority on the part of the
meat-eaters (at least as regards habits), though, as I
have said before, they are unwilling to admit of any
inferiority.
The next division of the people calling for notice is
that of the tody-drawers. These are divided into two
castes—the Daver Muckulloo and Bhilaroo. Both of
these will partake of food in the houses of the farmer
caste, but not in each other's. Curiously enough, the
first-named people, notwithstanding their pursuit, will
not partake of alcohol in any form. In habits, as
regards food and drink, the Bhilaroo people are exactly
the same as the meat-eating farmers.” The manner of
extracting the juice of the sago-palm is extremely simple;
and without entering into details, which would only be
tedious to the general reader, I may observe that, on
passing through the jungle, you will see a black pot
hanging to the end of a branch or shoot which has been
cut off. Into this pot the juice runs, and a single tree
will in this way give from two to as much as four or five
quarts a day. Early in the morning this juice is of
about the thickness of muddy beer, with a pleasant
Sweet taste. As, however, the day goes on, fermentation
sets in, and by two or three o’clock in the afternoon the
liquid becomes frothy and intoxicating. Most of the
farmers have some of these trees in the piece of jungle
land which is allotted to every house to be used as
garden land, and the tody-drawers cut the trees, giving
* The meat-eating farmer will not partake of food in the house of a todyman,
but when travelling the meat-eating farmer may partake of food prepared by the
Bhilaroo caste of todymen.
S4. A/P AWA TIVE AWEIGHBO URS.
half the produce to the farmer, and reserving the other
half for themselves. Numerous accidents occur in
climbing the trees, and hardly a year passes without the
occurrence of some fatal result. These tody-drawers are
all fond of sport, and as they require to remove their
tody very early in the morning, and the last thing at
night, they have naturally the best opportunities for
shooting, or else for bringing in news of game. I had a
great deal to do with this class of men, and had from
four to six families of them in constant employment on
my lands, in which are numerous tody-trees. I took
my rent entirely in service, which they were very
willing to give; and the conditions were simply that
one man out of each house should accompany me when-
ever I went out shooting. These men are generally
poor; though, from planting coffee-trees round their
houses, renting a few acres of rice land from one of the
farmers, and, in some instances, from having got a grant
direct from Government, todymen are occasionally to
be found who are in very comfortable circumstances.
When I first settled in Munzerabad the tody was invari-
ably sold for an equal measure of unhusked rice. This
may seem an inconvenient method of exchange, but it
had advantages which will be pointed out in another
part of this chapter.
These castes of tody-drawers are dressed similarly to
the farmers, with the exception that their blanket is
worn a little shorter in order to facilitate their climb-
ing the trees. Their women, too, are dressed like the
farmer-women. In size I should say that these people
are somewhat smaller than the farmers. Their general
appearance gives the idea of a much more mixed race;
and they present more variety of feature and of colour
WAZO/L LJPERS OR HE/COZ’ C/CA.S.S. 55
than the farmers. Some of them, however, are tall and
good-looking, and the central figure in the group I
have given, a man with blue eyes and moustaches tinged
slightly red, though gaunt to a degree, is a fine,
Well-featured man.
Passing over the artisan and other miscellaneous
castes which, as I have said, form but a very small
proportion of the population, we will now notice the
Whollyers (from wholar, a field) or helot class, the
Pariahs of Southern India, who form, I should say,
a fourth of the population of Munzerabad. These
people are popularly supposed to be the aborigines of
the country, who were conquered and reduced to slavery
by the superior castes.” They present a very marked
difference from the better classes of the community, being
extremely black, often quite as much so as the darkest
negro, with thick lips, and having an extremely stupid
expression; and not to enter into further particulars,
I may say that they are black, squat, and ugly.
Those I have had weighed and measured varied from
7 st. 4 lbs. to 8 st. 12 lbs. in weight, and 5 ft. 1 in. to
5 ft. 4 in. in height. A fair average specimen would be
about 8st. 5 lbs. in weight and 5 ft. 3 in. in height, or
more than a stone lighter and about four inches shorter
than the average of the meat-eating farmers. These
people live in villages, and in huts without even mud
walls, and I remember that it was thought a great inno-
vation when one of my coolies, who was of this tribe,
built a small house, or rather an enlarged hut, with mud
walls. Previously the walls consisted generally of split
pieces of the Sago-palm (Caryota urens), with twigs or
* See paper by Sir Walter Elliot. “On the Characteristics of the Population of
India,” in Journal of Ethnological Society of London, published July, 1869.
56 MP WATIVE WEIGHBOURS.
rather sprays, of the palm interwoven. Their dress is
the same as that of the upper classes, though generally
of a scantier and always of a poorer description.
When I first settled in Munzerabad the whole of this
helot caste were still in the position of hereditary
bondsmen in which Montgomery found them in 1839.
They were fed, clothed, and married at the expense of
their master's family; they were feasted and received
presents at his festivals; and mourned as members of
the family when deaths occurred in it. They seem in
former times to have been liable to be sold, but, with
rare exceptions, they seem only to have been sold along
with their master's estate. According to Montgomery,
these hereditary bondsmen (who appeared healthy and
well fed it, may be mentioned) expressed no wish to
change their condition, when asked if they ever repined
at their lot in life. This may seem to the reader to
be a curious fact, but it proves what Montgomery
asserts to be the case, namely, that these bondsmen were
quite as well off as free labourers, the latter in former
times being paid in food and clothing of nearly the
same sort. My own experience amply confirms this
statement as to their condition of life; but, considering
the great rise in the price of wages, and the knowledge
that the freedom of the individual is entirely unre-
strained, it is certainly surprising that so few of these
hereditary bondsmen should leave their old masters.
Some, of course, took advantage of the arrival of Euro-
pean planters to desert bad masters, but many of my
native neighbours never lost a man.
It is a common practice with the missionaries to
represent the Pariahs as outcasts; and I may remind the
reader that Mr. Arthur, in his “Mission to the Mysore,”
saevae aelo）.-（））· · · - （№ſſ （ ）
.
-_-
ſaesº：|-


F7"HAVOZOG/CAI, D/VISIO/V. 57
adjures the British public to think of “the eight millions
of wild men who haunt the woods and hills, and of the
twenty millions of outcasts whose lot is vile and bitter.”
Assuming that the Pariahs are included in the last (and
it would be impossible to make up any such number
without them), the statement is entirely calculated to
mislead people in this country. Your Pariah has his
caste just as much as any one else has his, and in Mysore
there are two castes at least of whose food the Pariah
will not eat. These are the Cootumbroos, or fortune-
tellers, and a caste called Vashtmy, a low caste of
priests.
We have now taken some account of the great sections
of society in Munzerabad—the farmers, the tody-drawers,
and the labourer or helot caste, or, to call them by
their common name, the coolies. The remainder of the
population consists of potters, carpenters, silversmiths,
weavers, washermen, barbers, and the small number of
Brahmin priests required to officiate at the only temple
of note, and to solemnise the marriages of the middle
and upper classes.
As to race, the whole society may be divided into
Turanians” more or less pure, and those of distinctly
non-Turanian or aboriginal extraction. The last are
represented by the coolies of the country, the former by
the castes I have already specified. The distinctions
* The ethnology of India, or at least of Southern India, seems to be far from
conclusively settled, and the word Turanian used here is merely to distinguish
these people from the pure Aryans of the north, and the aboriginal tribes repre-
sented by the Pariahs of Southern India. The term Turanian, though sufficient
to answer my purpose here, is, I am aware, far from a satisfactory one. Accord-
ing to Mr. James Ferguson the term is of Persian origin. “In their simple
system of ethnography,” he states, “the inhabitants of Central Asia divide all
the world between two races—Iran and Turan; or Iranam, or as we call it,
Aryan, meaning themselves, and Turanian, meaning everybody else; or, as they
otherwise express it, Iran and an-Iran, Aryan and non-Aryan.”—Journal
Ethno, Society of London, July, 1869, p. 141.
58 MP AWATIVE AWEIGHBOURS.
between the people of Turanian descent, and the
aborigines who were reduced to serfdom, are exactly
similar to those described in Hunter’s “Annals of Rural
Bengal” as existing amongst the inhabitants of that
province. The Turanians are, comparatively speaking,
fair, with thin lips, well-proportioned features, and
intelligent faces. The aborigines, on the other hand,
are black, squat, and thick-lipped, with ugly coun-
tenances, and a generally stupid expression. And the
institutions and religion of the respective races differ in
like manner. The Turanians have their village system;
Brahmin priests, without whom no marriage can be
solemnised, and through whom are offered up things
pleasing to the benign deities and the universal God;
and have at least the tradition of a future state. The
aborigines may be said to have no religion at all, unless
the offerings occasionally made to evil-working spirits
can be called such. But in Munzerabad the Turanians,
repeating the actions of the Aryan Indians of the
north, have drunk deeply of the aboriginal rite, and
the same man who goes forth to offer to the benign
deities -
“Sweet-smelling gums and fruits and flowers,”
will at midnight betake himself to the gloomiest
recesses of the forest, and there, at the foot of Some
chosen tree, pay bloody homage to the demons through
whom alone, in his opinion, come sickness and mis-
fortunes. In their state of civilisation, at least, people
are more easily sent to their knees by their fears than
their desires; and, so long as they imagine that calamities
are caused by evil-working spirits, so long will they
cling tenaciously to the rites of superstition, and
neglect the comparatively speaking purer worship of
A&AE/L/GYO OVS AVO TVOAVS. 59
which they may now be said to hold merely the
tradition.
I have said that the Turanians have at least the
tradition of a future state, and their belief is that there
are altogether seven worlds; that we occupy the central
one; that there are three above and better than this
world, and three below very much worse. The good,
they think, will go to the worlds above, while the bad
will descend to the inferior worlds, where they will be
punished for their sins. Such, at least, is their oral
tradition. Dut their anticipations of what will happen
in a future state extend no further. Nor, as far as I
can discover, do they trouble themselves so far as to
think at all on the subject; and, if you speak to them
of a future state where the good will probably * be
happy together, they answer, “It may be so, but who
has returned from thence P”
These people have also the tradition of the deluge,
but with a slight variation. They imagine that the
whole world was destroyed by a sea of fire, and that
two people alone were saved by taking refuge in a cave.
In Munzerabad there are devils and demons without
end, and the firm belief evinced in them by the Indians,
together with the innumerable ways in which the wrath
of a devil may be excited, has often caused me no little
trouble. If fever, for instance, breaks out in the village,
some devil is sure to have caused it, and nothing will
satisfy him but a sacrifice of blood. A good many
years ago, and in one of my estate villages, I drove
out a devil at the cost of seven shillings, and for this
sum several cocks were sacrificed, and other ceremonies
gone through. The site of the village in question is
* I say probably, for “it doth not yet appear what we shall be.” (1 John iii.)
60 MP WA 7/VE AWE/GA/BOOAS.
a particularly healthy one, and this sacrifice lasted,
accordingly, for a number of years; but another devil,
or the same one, is said to have broken out, and the
people are, I am informed, deserting the spot. I must
say that I had some doubts as to the propriety of
yielding to the fancies of the people, but in times of
sickness almost anything that allays fear or affords
hope should be encouraged; and I may here mention
that a civilian once informed me that, when cholera
broke out in a gaol under his charge, he sacrificed a
pig and two sheep with excellent effect.
The laying on of devils, too, has often troubled me
not a little, and complaints of this kind are frequent.
One man will allege that another man has bewitched
him, and that all sorts of misfortunes have happened
to him in consequence. The remedy in this case is to
get the bewitcher and bewitchee to eat together. This
recipe may, perhaps, be of use in this country, and I
recommend it accordingly to the notice of Devonshire
and Somersetshire clergymen, as in these counties in
especial, cases of belief in witchcraft are far from
uncommon; in fact, one came before the magistrates
not long ago, a man having bitten a woman who he
thought had bewitched him.
Another class of special devils caused a neighbour
of mine (an English planter) a good deal of annoyance,
though I luckily escaped, my house lying somewhat out
of the route by which they were got out of the country.
When cholera or severe small-pox breaks out in a par-
ticular parish, the inhabitants gather themselves together,
and by some process, the exact nature of which I never
learned, cast into a wooden image the spirit which causes
the disease. The image is then carried, generally at
AXA' VIZ,S. 61
midnight, into the next parish, the natives of which
despatch it with all speed out of their boundaries. The
route of epidemical devils with us is from the western
to the eastern portion of the country, which is bounded
by a large river, into which the image is thrown, and
thus is disease carried out of the district. My neigh-
bour's estate is contiguous to the river, and in the direct
route of devils, which invariably arrived at some unsea-
sonable hour of the night. If the devil was in any way
delayed, it was imagined that infection would spread, or
the disease break out; and the people had therefore,
night after night, to get up and carry the images down
to the river.
Malicious demons are also supposed to haunt par-
ticular pools of rivers or streams, and I well recollect
how I was once entreated to desist from bathing in a
deep rocky pool some miles from my house. I was
surprised at the firmness of their belief, and one of the
party even suggested that they should all go home, in
case my death should be laid to their door. But the
day was hot and the pool tempting, and T plunged into
the (to them) dread and gloomy waters. I had a plea-
Sant swim, but I failed in persuading the boldest of the
party, a man of known and tried courage, to follow my
example. 4
Singularly enough, these devils do not seem to be
thought capable of being disturbed or in any way
offended by the intromissions of a foreigner; and on
my estate there exists a singular instance of what an
Englishman may do who gets on with neighbours, and
of the tenacity with which the Indians cling to a par-
ticular worshipping place. In a block of forest I had
cleared for coffee it was found expedient to drive a road
62 MP AWA 77 VE WEIGHAPOURS.
between two of the sacrificial trees, and, in fact, right
over the place where the sacrifices were made. I
explained to the villagers principally interested, that
it would be extremely inconvenient to me to make my
road anywhere else; that the road could be no loss to
the devil; that it would be a convenient place for them
to sacrifice on ; and that the advantages hitherto enjoyed
by the devil would be increased rather than diminished.
To these propositions they good-humouredly assented,
and the place, if I may judge from the fresh blood-
stains often to be seen early in the morning, seems
to be more popular than ever. My carts and people
pass along by day, the devil is worshipped at night,
and all parties seem equally pleased.
Notwithstanding this universal belief in and dread of
evil spirits, the natives do not seem to attach any impor-
tance to a place of sacrifice that has been long deserted.
The only sign that denotes a demon-worshipping spot
consists of three small stones, generally of white quartz;
and, when cutting a road through forest remote from
villages, we once came upon these marks of worship.
I was in a doubt as to removing them, but one of the
Indians said it was only a ruined devil, and solved
the difficulty by shovelling the stones aside without the
slightest ceremony. -
I have said that in Munzerabad there are devils and
demons without end, and being desirous of ascertaining
their number, I requested one of my managers to send
me a list of all the devils in the country. To this he
added, by my request, a list of gods and goddesses, so
that I have now a complete account of all the deities
and devils worshipped by the natives of Munzerabad.
Were I engaged in writing the statistics of the gods
Al/OA&E DEV/Z.S. 63
and devils of India, I should certainly have an excellent
stock in trade to start with ; but, as my object is merely
to give the reader an idea of the general life of my
native neighbours, I shall glance but very briefly at
the information before me.
The devils of Munzerabad may be divided roughly
into two classes, the first of which contains eighteen,
and the second nine devils. These eighteen devils come
under the general head of Bhūta, Diah, Chowree, and
Juttigă ; and besides these devils and their variations,
these being apparently different principles of the same
fiend, there are two others specially devoted to the
tody-drawers, mamed Cardelworriah and Mullay Moo-
diah: the first of the last-named injures the tody-trees,
while the second revenges itself on any one who annoys
a tody-drawer. The first four devils on my list injure *
the body, and produce a variety of symptoms which are
not traceable to any particular disease, and the offerings
consist of tody, sheep, fowls, rice paste, plantains, and
cocoa-nuts, slightly varied, however, according to the
taste or power of each particular devil. One devil, for
instance, puts up with only from five to nine rice cakes,
two fowls, plantains, cocoa-nuts, and tody, while others,
again, require mutton. Devil No. 5 appears in a dream
in the shape of a tiger, generally to children, and seems
to be quite satisfied with the modest allowance of one
fowl and three measures of boiled rice. Devil No. 6
spoils milk, curds, and cream, and sometimes takes to
. . In New Zealand each disease was regarded as being caused by a particular
god; thus Tonga was the god who caused headache and sickness: he took up
his abode in the forehead. Moko-Tiki, a lizard god, was the source of all pains
in the breast; Tu-tangata-Kino was the god of the stomach; Titi-hai occasioned
pains in the ankles and feet; Rongomai and Tuparitapu were the gods of con-
sumption; Koro-Kio presided over childbirth.”—“Origin of Civilization and
Primitive Condition of Man,” by Sir John Lubbock, Bt., p. 131.
64. MP WATIVE AWEIGHBO URS.
men and cattle. Devil No. 7 affects the whole family,
as well as the cattle and poultry, all of which it kills
unless found out. The way in which it is found out
is in this manner:—Certain plates of brass, which are
solely used for this purpose, are placed on the floor in
the centre of the house. After a few ceremonies, the
potter (the village potter seems generally to preside at
these devil ceremonies) places two thin rods against the
plates, and pushes them along. Wherever the plate
stops, it is supposed that the devil is there. The spot
is then cleaned, and offerings of a pig or two red cocks
with boiled rice are made. These plates for finding out
the residence of the devil are only to be procured at two
villages in our neighbourhood. Devil No. 9 kills in an
instant, and is very difficult to discover. The other
devils up to No. 17 call for no particular remark. No. 18
affects children, causing them to be restless and con-
tinually crying. In this case a fowl with boiled rice is
offered on a stool in the house. If, after the offering,
the child does not become better, a thin silver plate
with figures which make fifteen taken any way

8 3 4
1 5 9
6 7 2
is hung round the child's neck, the number fifteen being,
it is believed, the favourite figure of this devil.”
* In another part of this book I have said that with us the devil has quite
gone out of fashion, but I have since seen reason to think that I am probably, at
least to a certain extent, mistaken. Monsignor Gaume, at any rate, and the
Pope seem to have a belief in devils and demons that rivals the belief of my .
OFFER/WGS 7"O DE VILS. 65
The devils previously alluded to seem to be respon-
sible to no particular head devil, as far as I can learn;
but the next class, numbering in all nine devils, are all
under a female chief, who is supposed to send the infe-
rior devils on their deadly errands. The chief is called
Hidir–Bidra-Umma, and the whole of this tribe of devils
come under the general name of Māra. The chief devil
is held in particular dread by the natives, and is Sup-
posed to have existed from the beginning. The whole
of these devils seem to be thought to be simply a set of
malevolent fiends whose wrath had to be incessantly
appeased by sacrifices, and the only one worthy of any
particular notice is the Rutcha Cuttin Māra, to which a
sacrifice is annually made at a particular village in
Munzerabad in order to avert cattle disease. The cere-
mony is as follows:—A three or four-year-old buffalo is
brought before the temple of the Māra, after which its
hoofs are washed, and unboiled rice thrown over its
head, the whole village repeating the words Māra
Quână, or, in other words, buffalo devoted to Māra.
It is then let loose, and allowed to roam about for a
year, during which time it is at liberty to eat of any
crops without fear of molestation, as an idea prevails
native neighbours in Munzerabad. In Monsignor Gaume's work,1 which has
received the special commendation of the Pope, we are told, p. 295 (I quote from
the Pall Mall Gazette), that “in the present age millions of demons surround us,
and are more enterprising than ever, and we are apt to be too familiar with them.
The circumambient air is full of demons (p. 305), and to these demons the Church
attributes most of the tempests, waterspouts, and hurricanes that take place.
Haunted houses and places are especially infected with devils (p. 317). Flights
of locusts, blights, plague, cholera, potato disease, cattle disease, and vine disease
are enumerated as works of these demons.” Holy water, it appears, has the
power of driving away these devils and all the evils they cause, and this method
seems at least, as far as cheapness is concerned, to have the advantage of that
pursued by my native neighbours.
* “L’Eau Bénite au dix-neuvième Siècle.” Par Monsignor Gaume, Protono-
taire Apostolique. Troisième édition. Paris.
WOL. I. F
66 MP AVATIVE WEIGHAPOURS.
that to interfere with the buffalo in any way would be
sure to bring down the wrath of the Māra. At the end
of that time it is killed at the feast held annually in
honour, or rather to divert the wrath, of the Māra.
I regret much that I have no further particulars as
regards this feast, which is evidently the same as that
alluded to by Sir Walter Elliot (see his interesting paper
“On the Characteristics of the Population of India”) as
prevailing in the Dekhan, the Nizam's country, Mysore,
the Carnatic, and the Northern Sircars, though it appears
that there are some differences of detail. This sacrifice
of a buffalo is supposed to be in substitution of the
ancient practice of human sacrifices, which were prac-
tised by the Konds up to so late a period. It seems,
I may observe, to be assumed, in the paper alluded to,
that certain aboriginal peoples of India sacrificed human
beings in the first instances, and then used buffaloes
instead, owing to the influence of the more civilised
people they came in contact with. But we have no
means of proving that they did not commence with
buffalo, and take to human sacrifice as an improvement.
But whatever the order of precedence might have been,
it seems certain that, as regards the object of this sacri-
fice, a buffalo is thought to answer the purpose quite as
well as a human offering; and it is stated by Captain
McVicar that amongst the Konds those who detest
human sacrifices offer up buffaloes and bullocks with
precisely the same ceremonies. In Montgomery's Report
on Munzerabad, previously alluded to in this chapter, it
is alleged that human sacrifices were said once to have
been common in that part of the country. But the
statement is made in a very vague way, and no evidence
* Wide Journal of the Ethnological Society of London, July, 1869.
SEGEE FEAST –F/REBRAAWD FIGHTING. 67
of any sort is brought in support of it. I may add that
during my intimate intercourse with the people, I never
even heard of the tradition of such a thing. This fact
of course proves very little except that human Sacrifices,
if ever customary in Munzerabad, must have been prac-
tised in very remote times indeed.
As the reader has probably by this time heard enough
of these devils, I will now proceed to notice the cere-
monies at the two great feasts in my neighbourhood.
One of these is called the Segee feast, held in honour
of a goddess of that name, and this feast is held at one
place in every parish in Munzerabad, as well as in the
next country. This feast lasts no less than fourteen
days, five of which, however, are taken up with prepara-
tions of one sort or another, and I have no space to enter
into any lengthened description of the proceedings, which
consist of dancing, offerings of fowls, rice, and fruit,
walking barefooted through burning charcoal, and a num-
ber of ceremonies. One part of the ceremonies, however
—and of a kind that would delight most Irishmen—
seems worthy of notice, as there are only three places in
the country where it is kept up; and, curiously enough,
these villages are all in one part of the country. On
one of the days of the feast all the villagers present—of
the farmer and tody-drawer caste—provide themselves
with firebrands made of dry plantain leaves, twisted
close round the green pith of the plantain-tree. These
brands measure from five to six feet in length, and are
about six or seven inches in circumference. The whole of
the people of the castes indicated then divide themselves
into equal numbers, and, their heads being protected by
a blanket wound round the temples, fall to with the
brands all lit. At first this firebrand fight goes on
F 2
68 MP WATIVE AWEIGHAOURS.
pretty evenly ; but as the combatants get fewer, four or
five will attack a single man, and probably one who has
made himself obnoxious in some way or other to his
assailants. This feast affords an excellent opportunity
for paying off old scores, and as it occurs once a year,
accounts may be settled with great punctuality. The
blows are often very severe, and I have little doubt that
on these occasions something much harder than tightly-
bound plantain fibre finds its way into the brands. The
natives themselves can give no account of the origin of
this singular custom, and I have never heard of one
similar to it in other parts of India.
The great event of the year in Munzerabad is the
Dagoonday feast, held in honour of Rāma. At Dagoon-
day is the only temple of any size in the county, and it
is the only one that has what is commonly called by
Englishmen a Juggernath chariot. This feast, which is
a general fair as well, lasts about a week, and the great
event is the pulling of the chariot. I once received an
invitation in due form from the senior potail, or head
man of the county; and an open hut, to protect me from
the sun, having been erected in a commanding situation,
I had a good view of the whole proceedings. The first
thing that struck me was the very orderly way in which
things were managed, so as to prevent collisions between
rival villages. On this day the people of each village
enter the feast in a regular order of precedence, and
march three times round the temple, preceded by the
village band, playing on instruments delightful, no doubt,
to an Asiatic, but sufficient almost to rend the drum of a
European ear. The villagers, having paid their devotions
at the temple, then disperse amongst the booths of the
fair, to be followed by the villagers next in precedence.
AUZZZAWG 7'HAE / DOZ CAR. 69
The villagers, with their respective bands, remain quite
outside the boundaries of the fair until they receive an
order from the senior potail to enter.
Though Englishmen in India certainly do curious
things occasionally, I have some doubts as to whether
I shall not appear to have somewhat exceeded the
curious in superintending and directing the movements
of an idol car. Nor do I think that I should have
meddled with the said car had it not been for a strong
belief on the part of the natives that a devil had been
laid on it by a head man from a distant parish, who, to
the annoyance of the people in my part of the country,
had been exalting his horn at the feast the year previous.
This gentleman, on that occasion, not only entered the
feast with torches by day, but with two umbrellas, on
the ground that he had a royal firman authorising the
assumption of these dignities. The people in our part
of the country said they knew nothing about that ; that
they didn’t believe he had any authority of the kind,
and very justly observed that he had better keep his
umbrellas till he went to court. In short, they were so
strongly of that opinion that a furious mélée ensued.
Many heads were broken, and so were the umbrellas,
and the general confusion was such that the Government
prohibited the man with the umbrellas from appearing
at the feast in future unless he left his paraphernalia
behind him.” It was therefore supposed that he had
* To some the fact of a serious mélée ensuing from the introduction of two
umbrellas at a feast may seem a ludicrous matter; but at the French Court,
rather more than two hundred years ago, subjects as trifling were as gravely
discussed and as seriously disputed. What rank justified a noble entering the
Louvre in a coach, who should put on the King's shirt or the Queen's shift, and
who should hand the King his napkin at dinner, were matters of serious dispute.
A matter, too, of precedence of little more importance caused a duel between the
Dukes de Beaufort and De Nemours, which ended in the death of the latter.
(Wide Buckle’s “History of Civilization,” vol. ii. pp. 169-70.) Trifling as these
70 MP WATIVE WEIGHAPOUR.S.
revenged himself by laying a devil on the Juggernath car.
This huge machine, which was pulled by about five hun-
dred people in front, and started by levers being applied
to the wheels behind, showed at the very outset a dispo-
sition to go wrong, and, when being pulled back to its
place, one of the inner wheels took the ground, and the
more the people pulled, the faster it of course stuck.
With extraordinary perseverance they tugged at the
huge structure from twelve to nearly three in the after-
noon, but with no other result than that of making the
car more immovable than ever. At last, in despair, the
head of the feast sent a deputation to me and my manager
(who had accompanied me to the place), and begged us
to assist them. We accordingly went down, and soon
saw where the difficulty lay ; but with all the force
available, though directed in the right way, and so
vigorously that I thought the people would shake the
car to pieces, failed to move it one inch. It then
occurred to me that the weight of the Brahmin priests
and their friends, who were seated quite comfortably on
the car, might make some difference, and I proposed to
one of the farmers that it would be a good thing to get
rid of them. He assented at once, and I immediately
directed a six-foot hill-man to clear the car. A priest
threatened and expostulated from the top; but the hill-
man, who, by the way, was a tody-drawer, soon clam-
bered up one of the huge wheels, dashed into the car,
and speedily dislodged a number of these holy men. At
that moment a tremendous effort was made, on rolled the
incidents may seem, they are the bricks and mortar of the history of the human
mind; and perhaps, a hundred years hence, some Hindoo historian will illustrate.
the feelings of to-day by pointing with grave wonder to those disputes which
once seemed so serious in the eyes of his ancestors, and will perhaps apologise
for even alluding to matters which will then appear silly to the poorest Pariah.
A) ECAP OF APRA A/MVAW/CA/C / WFZ UAEAVCAE. 71
huge machine, and I hastened out of the way lest I
should fall an unwilling victim to Rāma.” The fact
was that the people were sick to death of the car and
the priests, and everything connected with them, and I
do not think I could give a better illustration of the
contempt into which the Brahminical religion has fallen.
In Munzerabad, however, it does not appear that what
is called Brahminical influence ever prevailed very much,
and it certainly had little power over the people in recent
times. Montgomery, I may add, in his Report on Mun-
zerabad, remarks that “the constitution of society seems
to differ from that of the plains, in the general absence
of Brahminical influence.”
After the chariot had been got back to its place, I
wended my way home, feeling in a state of low doubt as
to whether I had not been committing idolatry in some
shape or other, but consoling myself with the reflection
that I had been merely assisting at an annual ceremony,
which had almost entirely lost its religious character,
and degenerated into a mere game.
To describe all the other feasts held by my native
neighbours would entirely exhaust my space and patience,
and Weary the very soul of the reader. There are feasts
to the household gods, to the god of crops, to implements
of all sorts, to cattle, to the new moon before a certain
feast, to the post around which the corn is trodden out,
and to the dead, besides several other feasts of which I
have no detailed particulars. The feast to the dead
seems to me to be the most interesting, and I shall accord-
ingly describe it as briefly as possible.
* It is commonly supposed by Englishmen that some people invariably throw
themselves under the wheels of these cars, but I could not even hear of the
tradition of such a thing having been done in our part of the country.
72 MP AWA TVVE AWE/GAAPOURS.
The feast in commemoration of the dead is held by all
sects except Mahommedans, and may be said to be held
by the head of the family almost entirely. It is held
chiefly in memory of the father of the head of the
family, and any particular dish to which the deceased
was partial is made on that day. The ceremonies are
performed at about seven or eight o'clock in the evening,
when the house is carefully cleaned and prepared.
Plantain leaves (the ordinary plates of the Hindoos) are
then spread, and a little of every dish is placed upon
them. A lamp is then lighted, and some sweet-smelling
gum ignited. After this the whole of the people go
into the verandah, and the door of the house is then
shut. A strict silence is then preserved, and not even
a whisper is allowed for the space of about five minutes,
during which time the spirit of the dead is supposed to
have satisfied his appetite. On re-entering, the portions
set aside for the spirits of the dead are eaten by the head
of the family, and the rest eat of the food, portions of
which had been set aside for these sacred rites. To this
feast friends of the family may be invited. -
I have now to notice an appalling list of no less than
thirty-seven deities worshipped by all classes in Mun-
zerabad except the Pariahs, wh9, however, are allowed
to make offerings if they wish to do so, but in a very
roundabout way, as the offerings must be handed to a
farmer, in the first instance, to be carefully washed
before being given into the hands of the priest. The
list, as sent me by my manager, reads rather oddly, and
it is curious to read, under the head of “Residence of
Deity,” that god No. 1, the god of the Brahmins, resides
in heaven; while god No. 2 resides at Dagoonday, the
village at which I superintended the chariot-dragging.
GODS AAWD GO/D/OESSES. 73
Of the thirty-seven gods and goddesses, twenty-eight
are presided over by Brahmins, and the remainder by
priests of other Hindoo castes. None of the offerings to
these deities are of blood, and as none of these deities are
supposed to injure man or beast, their worship is much
neglected; and this is necessarily more especially the
case in a wild, jungly country, where the grand, but
often gloomy forests, the majestic nature of the scenery,
and the sweeping blasts of the south-west monsoon fill
the uneducated mind with awe, and people the air with
stormy and malevolent spirits. *
As for these benignant gods and goddesses, I have no
space for even a list of their names and places of resi-
dence, and the reader who is curious on these subjects
can fully inform himself as to the nature and history
of most of them by a reference to the valuable work
of the Abbé Dubois.
Looking backwards on all these deities and devils,
two general facts stand out very prominently. One is
that there are a number of benevolent deities from
whence no harm can arise ; the other is that there are
a number of devils who work all the evil in the World.
But when you come to inquire further, and, in short,
cross-question the people (see chapter on Religion), you
will find that behind and beyond all these benevolent
deities stands a general belief in one great Author of
the universe, who has merely delegated a portion of his
authority to numerous gods and goddesses. As to the
devils, they simply seem to be evil spirits, and, with the
exception of the various Māras, who are all under one
common head, are thought, for the most part, to act
quite on their own responsibility.
How the people of Munzerabad came to have such
74. MP WATIVE AWE/GAZAROURS.
an extraordinary number of deities and devils is a
question that now naturally arises, and which seems to
me to admit of but merely a conjectural explanation.
When the first settlers immigrated from the interior
of Mysore into Munzerabad, shortly after the subversion
of the Hallibede dynasty in 1326,” it is certain that
they must have carried with them the Brahminical
Worship which they at present have, as well as all the
feasts and observances which they still hold in common
with people of the open plains of Mysore. Now, the
people of the plains do not at present worship any of
the devils that are worshipped in Munzerabad, except-
ing the Māra, and generally on occasions when cholera
or small-pox breaks out; and we are therefore left to
conclude that the people who immigrated from the plains
must have either borrowed this devil-worship in a great
measure from the aborigines of the country, or that the
general surroundings must have developed their limited
devil-belief to an extraordinary extent. It was, however,
probably a mixture of these two conjectures which pro-
duced the state of things at present existing. They no
doubt borrowed something from the aborigines, and deve-
loped by degrees their originally limited belief in the devil.
It seems worthy of remark that on the occasions
when devil-worship is had recourse to in the plains,
the Pariahs must be sent for, and they seem to be the
sole people through whom the devil can at all be
influenced. When the Pariahs are called in to get an
epidemical devil out of the country, the first thing to
be done is to give them plenty of tody, sheep, and
rice. After the meal is over drums are beaten, and
the Pariah supposed to be the favourite of the devil
I take this date of the immigration from Montgomery's Report.
f) EVIL - WORSHIP IV THE PLAINS. 75
receives its spirit, or, in other words, becomes possessed
of the devil. He then commences to dance and rave,
and after this the people ask what is to be done. If
cholera happens to be the epidemic to be got rid of he
tells them to make an image, which is supposed to be
like the devil himself, and to make offerings to it of
grain, &c. The image and the offerings are then taken to
the next village, where offerings are again made, and
the Māra passed on till, after visiting many villages, it
takes about thirty people to carry the offerings. In the
open country there seems to be no terminus for the Māra,
as there is in Munzerabad, where, as I may remind the
reader, the whole affair is thrown into the river, and the
general result is that some one wiser than his neighbours
appropriates the image and everything belonging to it.
In cases of epidemic small-pox, the offerings to the Māra
are of an inferior description, and the image and food
are merely placed near some running stream.”
This Māra the reader has heard so much of is evi-
dently the devil, the evil spirit, and the tempter of the
Buddhist scriptures;t but, to the natives of Mysore,
* “He led the boy o'er bank and fell
|Until he came to a woodland brook—
The running stream dissolved the spell.”
Lay of the Last Minstrel, Canto III.
The virtue of a living stream in all matters connected with devils and spirits
was a firm article of popular faith in Scotland.
f “Māra, the tempter, the great antagonist of Bhuddha, as well as of his fol-
lowers, is a very important personage in the Bhuddhist Scriptures. He is in many
places the representative of evil, the evil spirit, or, in Christian terminology, the
devil, conquered by Bhuddha, but not destroyed by him. In the Dhammapada
his character is less mythological than in other Bhuddhist writings. His retinue
is, however, mentioned (v. 175), and his flower-pointed arrow (v. 46) reminds
one of the Hindoo god of love. We read that Mära will overcome the careless,
but not the faithful (vv. 7, 8, 57); that men try to escape from his dominion
(v. 34) and his snares (vv. 37, 276, 350); that he should be attacked with the
weapon of knowledge (v. 40); that the wise who have conquered him are led out
of this world (v. 175).”—Max Müller’s “Introduction to Buddaghosha's Parables,”
pp. xxviii—ix.
76 MP AWA 7TVE AWEIGHAPOURS.
he and his followers seem simply to be thought of as
causes of pain, disease, and loss to man and beast. But
the character of Māra must, no doubt, vary considerably
in accordance with the education of the individual and
the state of civilisation he is living amongst. And here
I cannot refrain from uttering one word of caution to
those who wish to form accurate ideas of native concep-
tion of various gods and devils, and that is simply that
they must never take the interpretation found in books
to be the real belief of the people as a whole.” In fact,
to ascertain at all what the body of the people of any
part of India really believe is extremely difficult, and it
is probable that the belief of the people is nearly always
at variance with the written expositions of their faith.
We have now really done with these deities and devils,
and I have now only to notice a few of the superstitious
fancies of my native neighbours. The first fancy of
this kind worthy of notice is the idea that if a leper be
buried instead of being burnt (which all lepers ought
to be), rain will not fall. A good many years ago the
usual April showers held off, and the cause of this was,
in the opinion of the natives, clearly to be traced to
the fact of two lepers having been buried in the
vicinity of my property. Now, though every one ad-
mitted that they should have been burnt, it seemed to
be nobody's business in particular to dig them up again.
As the natives generally ran to me with their difficulties,
I was plagued to death about these lepers, till at last I
* As an illustration of this it may be mentioned that the Nirvāna, or what may
be called the Heaven of Heavens, of the Buddhists, has one meaning for the
educated classes, and another for the masses of the people; the first holding
that the soul, in entering Nirvāna, is freed from all wishes and desires, and has
an entire indifference to joy and pain, to good and evil; while the masses Jook
upon Nirvāna rather in the light of a Mahommedan paradise, or of blissful
Elysian fields.—Wide Max Müller's “Introduction to Buddaghosha's Parables,”
p. XIV.
DZSZWZTERRIAWG ZEPERS 7"O CA USAE RAIAWFAZ.Z. 77
sent a request to the potail of the village that he would
have them disinterred. This was done, and rain having
fallen copiously the following day, I have no doubt the
instance will last the country for the next hundred
years. The natives, I may add, have an idea that
lepers, instead of decaying like people who have died in
other ways, dry up into a sort of mummy, with the
skin turned into a substance like leather.
In many of the fields in Munzerabad you will see the
blackened stump of a palm-tree stuck into the ground
roots uppermost. This is to keep the evil eye off the
crop, and it certainly has the effect of attracting one's
attention. Almost anything that attracts attention is
useful for this purpose, and I may mention that the
pictures out of the Illustrated London Mews were often
given by me to my native neighbours; and at last one
man, who seemed anxious to have as many as possible,
said that they would be useful to put up on the walls of
his house to keep off the evil eye. My native neigh-
bours have many other superstitious fancies, but none
deserving of any particular notice.
In this country it is well known that there is no surer
test of the prosperity or adversity experienced in par-
ticular years than the number of marriages contracted.
In India society is so constituted that the mere number
of marriages contracted would never form any guide by
which to gauge the national prosperity. But the ex-
penses incurred in marriages in India form a guide
which tells its tale with mathematical accuracy. The
Englishman, when he becomes richer, is fond of daily
display, or at least of many permanent additions to his
daily expenses. So, too, the Mahommedan. But, as a
rule, the Hindoo cares to make a show almost solely on
78 MP WA TVWE WE/GAZAROURS.
his wedding-day, or rather, I should say, on the days
which are devoted to the celebration of marriage feasts
and ceremonies. The expenditure, therefore, on wed-
dings are the surest test as to whether the country is
getting richer or poorer, and being desirous of com-
paring the state of my native neighbours now with what
it formerly was, I have lately had a number of tables
made, showing all the expenses incurred by twenty-two
different castes at the present moment, and also showing
the expenses incurred by the same castes fifteen years
ago, or before the breaking out of the great Indian
mutiny. These lists are extremely interesting, partly
from their showing, in the items of expenditure that are
permanently fixed, the relative position as regards wealth
of the various castes in ancient times, partly from their
showing the rise in the price of food, and partly from
their showing how much some classes of the commu-
nity have progressed in means, and others remained
comparatively stationary. But however interesting this
may be, I suspect that the general reader would not
thank me for going into details, and I shall simply con-
tent myself, therefore, with stating that the farming
classes show an increase of prosperity far exceeding that
of the other classes. Many of these have, indeed,
doubled their expenses; but if we take the principal
item in the account, the expenditure on jewels, we
shall find that the farmer classes have considerably more
than quadrupled their expenditure, having advanced
from £3 12s. to £16. The Bhilaroo caste of tody-
drawers seem also to have advanced considerably, and,
as regards this item, have risen to a little more than
three times their former expenditure, or from £2 10s. to
48. Masons, potters, and other castes fall far behind
INCREASE OF MARRIAGE EXPENSES. 79
this, and the weavers have only advanced from £2 to
42 10s. The Pariahs, who used fifteen years ago to
spend only 8s. on jewels, now spend from 10s. to 148.
The information obtained as to marriage expenses was
collected by a gentleman who was thoroughly well
qualified for the task, and the expenses were taken from
the body of each class, omitting the very rich and the
very destitute. After the farmers and tody-drawers
alluded to, I should say that the Pariahs, whether
employed on estates or not, have made the greatest
relative progress; and I may mention that one of my
coolies once spent £10, or nearly two years' wages, on
his marriage. I must here, however, caution the
general reader against concluding that these evidences
of prosperity are all sheer gain. A large increase of real
wealth has no doubt accrued to all classes throughout the
province of Mysore by the increase of cereals and coffee,
and when the profits have been preserved in the shape
of the precious metals—in other words, in jewellery or
in coin–We have a direct and saleable representation
of substance extracted from the soil. But the coin and
jewellery in the country have been, I am persuaded,
largely supplemented from another and a very un-
desirable source, as we shall see. When I first went to
Munzerabad in 1855 (and it is probable that this was
even more the case in more ancient times), the prevailing
medium of exchange was grain. The labourers were
entirely paid in kind; a pot of tody was bought for an
equal measure of unhusked rice; the man who wanted
to buy pots took grain to the potter to purchase them
with ; and even in the weekly market near my house
one kind of grain used to be exchanged for another.
The blacksmith was paid with grain, so were the barber
8o MP AVA TVVE AWE/GP/APOUR.S.
and the washerman. The farmers and the people in the
country hoarded their values in grain, and not in cash
and jewels. When a native clerk, who was for many
years in my service, succeeded his father (a farmer in
the open country), he came into, amongst other things,
a large pit full of raggee (a grain which will keep for
almost an indefinite period), which lasted him and all
his belongings for I forget how many years, and enabled
him, besides, to entertain the people from my estate who
had business in the plains. Now his case was just an
instance of what generally occurred. But all this is
changed now. Communications have been opened, grain
can readily be sent to the sea-coast, and the result is
that a farmer leaves his son more cash and jewels, and
but little grain; and it is this fact which accounts in no
small measure for the greater quantity of money the
farmers have now at command. Formerly he had a
command of values in grain; now he has it in coin and
jewels, which have taken the place of grain as media of
exchange. This, of course, is very natural and extremely
convenient; but in India there is one tremendous dis-
advantage connected with it, which must readily occur
to the reader. You can’t eat money and jewels; and
when dearth and famine come, what then 2 Not only,
then, is the accession of wealth, as shown in the ex-
penditure on marriages, not so great as it would at first
sight appear to be, but the risks arising from dearth and
bad seasons have been enormously increased. In Eng-
land it would hardly matter in what shape a man held
his values, as he could always exchange his gold for
grain at a moment’s notice; but a single glance at the
map of Asia will show the reader that no corn can
come to India from the countries lying to the westward,
THE BETROTHAL. 8 I
while from the countries to the east, as British Burmah,
but a small quantity can be depended on, and even for
that, competition is likely to arise, if it has not already
arisen, from other quarters. Under these circumstances
it seems plain that, to be safe, India ought to have food
for many years in advance; and until extended informa-
tion shall have shown the people the importance of
not being in too great a hurry to convert their grain
into gold, it seems plain that it is the duty of Govern-
ment to take the most careful precautions with the view
of averting dearth. As, however, I shall have occasion to
revert to this subject in another part of this book, I
shall therefore reserve a portion of what I have to say
on this subject. -
To return from what may be called a slight digres-
sion, we will now take some account of the marriage
ceremonies of my native Ileighbours. And here I must
confine myself to a very limited outline, as a full account
of all the details would require a great deal more space
than I can possibly devote to the subject.
Preliminary inquiries having been made by the women
of the family, and a young lady of suitable family fixed
upon, the first thing to be done is to call in a Brahmin
priest, who consults the Shaster, or is supposed to do so,
and determines as to whether the marriage will be a
profitable one or not. If the Oracle be favourable, and
the young lady’s parents consent to the match, another
consultation occurs as to the most favourable day and
hour for the projected bridegroom to go to the girl’s
house and seal the engagement by putting on the tallee
(a flat piece of silver) and chain. This is done by the
priest, and is equivalent to publishing the banns. It
may be mentioned here that there are many unfavour-
WOL. I. G
84. MP AWA TYPE WEIGHAPOUR.S.
is done to show that she has a right to the house. On
the same evening certain ceremonies are gone through
which no man is allowed to witness. These ceremonies
are performed by the women, and every effort made on
my part to discover what they are has been ineffectual.
On the next day a great number of ceremonies have to
be gone through, and one of the most curious, and cer-
tainly the most disagreeable, consists in the bride and
bridegroom pelting one another with saffron-coloured
water. The vessels containing the saffron-water, I
should have mentioned, have bunches of flowers floating
in them, and the pelting commences with the flowers.
At the close of this day the ceremonies are concluded,
and, if of a suitable age, the couple live together as man
and wife. Up to the close of the day when the marriage
is celebrated by the priest, the ceremonies are the same
all over the country; but the ceremonies gone through
subsequently are peculiar to Munzerabad and the adja-
cent country. -
When I first went to Munzerabad marriages were
usually contracted at ages which in this country would
be equivalent to a girl of sixteen or seventeen marrying
a man of twenty or twenty-five years of age; but mar-
riages before the age of puberty have since become far
from uncommon, and seem to me to have a tendency to
increase amongst all classes. -
A widow can re-marry, but if she chooses to do so,
must submit to very inferior ceremonies. The progeny,
too, of the second marriage lie under several Social dis-
advantages, and find great difficulty in getting married
into a respectable family. No priest attends at the
tying on of the tallee, or betrothal plate, and chain, and
this office is performed by an old widow, who receives a
A WIDO W.S MARFIA GE CEREMOMIES. 85
small fee for officiating on the occasion. The people
who attend this kind of wedding go simply for the wed-
ding breakfast, and depart immediately after it is over.
The guests are only from the widow’s village, and alto-
gether the assembly is extremely small. Should she
have any children by her former husband, they are
taken from her and kept by her first husband’s relations,
and the marriage tallee and ornaments are also made
over; in fact, she is stripped of everything belonging to
her that came through her former husband. Notwith-
standing all this, however, and the low estimation that
a marriage of this sort is held in, there are still expenses
to be incurred for jewellery and food, which amount,
I should say, in round numbers, to about a fourth of the
expenditure of a regular marriage. When a widow be-
comes such without having attained the age of puberty,
I suspect that the restrictions as to her re-marrying,
except as a widow, are sometimes evaded. I know of
One case of the kind having occurred in my own village,
and though the mother of the girl was fined by the head
of the caste, nothing more was said about it. .
We will now proceed to bury my native neighbour.
When the members of a family have finally decided
that one of the house (we will suppose the member to
be a man) is absolutely dying, or that his chances of
recovery are extremely small, notice is sent to his friends,
and they, having dressed themselves not quite in their
best, but a great deal better than usual, come to take a
last look at the dying person. They come, sit and look
for some time at the dying man, and depart. As it is
considered unlucky that any one should expire in the
house, the dying person is then removed to one of the
outhouses, and the moment he is dead a funeral cannon
86 MP AWA TIVE AWEIGHAROUR.S.
is fired off. These funeral cannons, though small, make
a very loud report, and, lying awake, as in these climates
One often does, there is something rather impressive in
that message of death as it booms in long waves through
the still night air. When all is ready for the funeral,
four or five of these cannons, which are always fired
muzzle upwards, and are fixed into the ground by means
of an iron spike welded on to the breech, are placed in
order on one side of the grave, and the village band
takes its stand on the opposite side at a little distance off.
The deceased is then seated in a sort of extemporary
arm-chair, with a clean cotton cloth around him, and his
right arm placed in an easy position, with a silver bracelet
on the wrist. The female relatives of the family sur-
round the body, and, from time to time, raise a lament-
able sort of wail, while the cannons are fired off at
intervals, and the band plays some funeral air. The
grave is dug some six or eight feet deep, and a hole is
tunnelled in one side of it, into which the body is placed
sitting, with the arms across the chest, and facing towards
the north. The grave is then filled in, and the body
is thus walled up with earth. Some plantain stems
with boughs across are placed over the grave, and the
thing is done. If the deceased was a man I cared about,
I used often to contribute some gunpowder for the
cannon-firing, to which they seem to attach considerable
importance. About the time of the mutinies an im-
pression got abroad that the Government did not like
all this cannon-firing, and one old farmer, who thought
his end was near, spoke to me about it, and seemed to
be uneasy at the prospect of being buried without the
usual honours. As the natives had no pickaxes, digging
these graves must have been a laborious business at One
A'UAVERAZ A&M 7ES. - 87
time; but since my arrival the people in my neighbour-
hood at least have had the best means of setting to
work, and the deaths that occurred were regularly
reported to me by a demand for pickaxes and crowbars.
All classes bury with their faces to the north, and the
following is the tradition on the subject. The people
say that four of their priests started on a journey to the
four cardinal points. Those from the east, west, and
south returned (as they easily might have done, by the
way, without going very far), but the one who went to
the north did not return, and they therefore bury their
dead facing the north in expectation of his arrival.
The funeral ceremonies in the plains differ a good deal
from the above, as no guns are fired, and the dead are
always buried lying at full length, with their faces to
the north.” In Munzerabad unmarried people are buried
in this way, and there is no sitting in state. In both
the plain and hill countries of Mysore, the spirit of the
deceased is believed to linger about the house up to
the twelfth day, when the last funeral ceremony is
performed.t .
The language spoken in Munzerabad is Canarese, one
of what are called the Dravidian languages of Southern
India. I may state here generally, that the leading
difference between the Northern and Southern languages
is, that in the Northern Sanscrit-derived words pre-
dominate, while in the Dravidian languages they are
in the minority. Canarese, I believe, has so many
Sanscrit-derived words, that it could not get on without
* In Ward's work there is an account of a native burial in Bengal, with the
face to the north, but perhaps this custom is common all over India.
f This notion of the spirit lingering about the house for some time seems
common amongst the negroes, who believe that the spirit lingers about the place
where the body has been buried, and some of the Hudson's Bay Indians share
the same belief–Pide Lubbock's “Origin of Civilization,” p. 139.
88 MP WATIVE NEIGHBOURS.
them at all; but it is alleged that the Tamul language
has been sufficiently developed to enable it, were it
necessary, to stand alone without any assistance from
Sanscrit whatever. Such a thing as a Canarese literature
does not, and probably never did, exist. I dare say,
Thowever, we should have known more as to what books
did exist in that language had not that madman, Tippoo,
£, burned up the whole of the royal library at Mysore.
, , ; He was asked what was to be done with the books and
papers which filled several long apartments in the
`-- palace. “To the stables with them,” said Tippoo;
“they will do to boil the horses' food with.” And thus
perished, with the exception of a few documents pre-
served by the artifice of a Brahmin, the whole of the
valuable collection left by Chick Deo Raj (in 1704),
who had added largely to a library which was extensive
when he inherited it. Amongst other valuable docu-
ments, the library held a copy of all inscriptions then
extant in his dominions.”
In the earlier part of this chapter I have said that a
certain class of farmers is strictly vegetarian, and that
the remainder of the population indulge in meat; but,
practically speaking, the food of the people is almost
entirely farinaceous, and consists of rice and raggee in
about equal proportions. The meat-eating farmers and
tody-drawers get meat, of course, occasionally when they
are successful out shooting, and now and then they come
in for a few fish dinners, but meat with them may be
looked upon as merely an occasional treat. The climate
all along the western frontier of Mysore is too wet for
sheep, and none but the Pariahs will touch the flesh of
cattle. Nor, with perhaps, of course, a few rare excep-
# WilkS.


SAPEAK CAAWARESE. 89
tions, will any of the upper classes in any way be
accessory to the killing of cattle. They have an equal
objection, too, to firing at bison. I recollect once stalk-
ing a herd of bison in the wet weather when I had
only a single rifle with me, which steadily refused to go
off. There were two natives with me, one of whom had
his matchlock. Now, I was so concealed behind a rock,
and had the wind so much in my favour, that the bison
were hardly startled by the sound of my cap going off,
and I proposed to the native that he should aim the match-
lock, while I pulled the trigger. But he was not to be
taken in in this way, and positively declined to touch
the matchlock while it was being fired at the bison.
I may add that, in consequence of the powder in the pan
being ignited so close to one's eye, and from the hang-
fire, it is very difficult for a European to make anything
of a shot with a matchlock. Y.
The natives are very fond of going visiting about
amongst one another, and their method of getting rid of
people who are inclined to pay what are called in this
country Galway visits is certainly extremely practical,
and in some cases, no doubt, worthy of imitation in these
islands. “What do you do when a man stays too
long ** I once asked. “If he stays longer than the
usual time, we say, ‘Come along, brother-in-law’ (this
term is used commonly, just as we would say ‘my good
fellow’), ‘and cut some firewood.’ “Come along, brother-
in-law, and give us a hand with the ploughing, or other
farm work.’” - -
I have often been surprised at the extensive know-
ledge my native neighbours have of the various plants
and trees that grow Wild in the jungles. When forest
is cut down, allowed to dry and burned off, with the
QO MP AWA TVVE AWAEIGHBO URS.
first rains there springs up a great mass of vegetation,
a Whole army of plants, none of which had grown on the
land before, as far as can be ascertained. Now, there is
hardly one of these that the natives cannot readily name,
and tell you the properties of. I once commenced
making a list of these plants that sprang up thus spon-
taneously, and soon got up to about eighty specimens.
I regret that I never completed the list, for there were
no doubt many more which escaped my observation.
Equally accurate, too, is their knowledge of the various
kinds of edible fungi which abound in these jungles in
the rainy season. This knowledge, however, is only
at first sight surprising, for we find an equally accurate
knowledge existing amongst the Australian Savages;
and this no doubt arose from the necessity they must
have been under, in times of scarcity, of experimenting
on everything that came within their reach. What is
more surprising is to find that in this country the
edibility of so many species of fungi is unknown. And
this fact, to my mind, tends very greatly to prove that
in ancient times the natives of these islands could never
have suffered from serious famines.
In this chapter I have attempted to give some account
of the life and customs of my native neighbours. In
the next chapter I purpose going at considerable length
into the character of the people. -
CHAPTER III.
NATIVE CHARACTER.—PRIVATE RELATIONS OF LIFE.
THE commonest charge brought against the Indians is
that of ingratitude, and the fact that they have no word
in their language exactly corresponding to Our Word
thanks º is commonly brought forward as an undeniable
proof of this moral deficiency. We find Dean Trench
concluding a similar deficiency in the Brazilian vocabu-
lary to be a clinching argument in support of the verdict
passed by a Jesuit missionary on some tribes of that
nation. And I here quote the entire passage, as it
affords a good instance of the way in which people form
conclusions from what I cannot but consider to be very
equivocal data. Says the Dean :-‘‘Dobrizhoffer, the
Jesuit missionary, in his curious History of the Abipones,
tells us that neither these nor the Guarinas, two of the
* “The Hindoos have no word for ‘thank you' in their common language,
and gratitude itself appears to constitute no part of their virtues. The greatest
benefits conferred very rarely meet with even the least acknowledgment. I have
known European physicians perform the most extraordinary cures on the bodies
of the natives gratuitously, without a solitary instance occurring of a single
individual returning to acknowledge the favour. Amongst the highest orders of
Hindoos, however, the master of a house sometimes says to a guest on his
departure, ‘You will excuse all inattentions;’ and the guest replies, ‘Oh, sir,
you are of a distinguished caste! what shall I say in return for the manner in
which I have been entertained P Such foodſ such a bed! But this is like your-
self. No one entertains a guest as you do. May Lükshméé (the Goddess of
Riches) ever dwell in your house.’”—Ward's “History, Literature, and Religion
of the Hindoos,” p. 286.
92 AWA TVVE CAAAA CTEA’.
principal native tribes of Brazil, possessed any word in
the least corresponding to our thanks. But what won-
der, if the feeling of gratitude was entirely absent from
their hearts, that they should not have possessed the
corresponding word in their vocabularies? Nay, how
should they have had it there ? And that this is the
true explanation is plain from a fact which the same
writer records, that although inveterate askers, they
never showed the slightest sense of obligation or grati-
tude when they obtained what they sought; never saying
more than ‘This will be useful to me,” or, ‘This is what
I wanted.’” Now, these Brazilians may, for aught I
know to the contrary, be a very ungrateful set of people,
but the facts adduced by the Dean at least do not prove
them to be so. His reasoning sounds very conclusive,
but it will not bear examination. The absence of a word
in our language which we are obliged to supply by the use
of the term “ennui,” would hardly be thought to prove
the original want of such a sensation amongst the British.
I might argue, and, to an ordinary reader, very conclu-
sively, that the people of Munzerabad are an ungrateful
race; for, though not inveterate askers, they occasionally
beg the loan of a crowbar, a present of a little lead or
gunpowder, leave to take firewood out of my clearing, or
material for building their houses, and when they have
got what they want they express no sense of obligation;
not only do they not say, “Thank you”—for they have no
such word in their language—but they often turn away,
saying merely, “Very well,” and sometimes give utter-
ance to nothing but a sort of satisfied “humph”—a sound
by which they express assent to, or satisfaction at, any-
thing. And it is just by the expression of conclusions
like these that the minds of people coming to India
AVA 77 WES OF7'EAV CAZZ ED UAVGRATEFUZ. 93
are fatally prejudiced. From all that he has read and
heard, an Englishman concludes that gratitude is a
feeling unknown to the people, and he therefore thinks
it unnecessary to put their character to the test in that
respect. And truly said Elphinstone, with a subdued
and exquisite irony, “The natives of India are often
accused of want of gratitude, but it does not appear
that those who have made the charge have done much
to inspire such a sentiment.” Years ago, and when there
were only four planters on one side of the province, the
treasury ran dry, and we could not, therefore, obtain cash
for the bills we had presented for payment. To me the
matter was nothing, for I simply sent into the villages
round about, and borrowed from my native neighbours.
But when I visited a friend, some twelve miles off, I
found him disconsolate, and without a rupee to pay his
coolies with. I told him I had no difficulty in obtaining
money. “Here,” he answered, “the disobliging, un-
grateful beasts won’t lend me a farthing.” “I)id you
ever lend them one when they wanted money?” I asked.
“Well, no,” he answered, and evidently staggered, “I
never did.”
People, again, are often surprised and disgusted
at natives expressing little or nothing on receiving
trifling gifts. I am not, I confess, at all surprised.
When I come to consider their notions of the wealth of
Europeans, I would as soon expect a native to express
any sense of obligation for a trifling gift as I would
expect a dog (if he could speak) to express any parti-
cular gratitude for bones thrown him by a man who
had plenty to spare. I have often in Scotland heard
complaints made of the Want of signs of thankfulness
for trifling gifts; but I confess I do not attach par-
94. AWA TIVE CAAAACTER.
ticular importance to failings of that sort, which are
oftener failings of speech than failings of heart. But
suppose that you extend your experiments, or suppose
that you try your native neighbours with something
more substantial than articles that you can easily spare,
and that you would never for one moment miss, and I
do not think you will have any reason to complain of the
result. Go and visit his sick child, give it medicine,
and give it kindly, and you will be as much satisfied
with the tone and manner of his grateful salaam (an
expression of respect, but which, when said with a par-
ticular tone and manner, stands for thanks) as if he had
affirmed that he thanked you from the bottom of his
heart. Ask that man in turn to do any little thing for
you, to bring his cattle and plough up a bit of garden,
to lend a hand to thatch your house, or any little thing
which lies in his power, and see how ready he is to
oblige you in turn. Lend a man money in his need, and
see if he will forget the obligation, though he may not
say much at the time. When I come to consider what
I have done for my native neighbours, and they have
done for me during the many years I lived among them,
I must admit that the balance is pretty even. I have
often lent money for short intervals without interest
(and, unless the amount was considerable, without even
taking a receipt), and they, when, as sometimes happened,
the treasury was exhausted, have often lent me money
without charging a farthing for the obligation. On one
occasion I kept money, borrowed in this way, for a
longer period than usual, and I told my manager to send
the money to the farmer's house, and give him some-
thing additional for interest. Next morning came the
farmer, and, without a word, returned the interest to my
PLEAVTP OF GRATITUDE. 95
manager. We were at work in the plantation at the
time, and when I saw my farmer friend looking for my
manager, I at once guessed his intentions. No, he would
not take it. “You don’t take interest from us,” he said,
“and we are not going to take it from you.” To this I
could add many other incidents of a similar kind, but I
will not trouble my readers with other instances of those
offices of good neighbourhood, which are, I fancy, more
evenly distributed over the world than travellers would
have us believe. It is sufficient to say that the people
did anything in reason for me, and that I, in turn, did
everything in reason for them. Were I to judge of our
hill-men by their words, I should pronounce them to be
as deficient in gratitude as the Brazilians are said to be.
Judging them by their acts, I, at least, have no reason
to assert that they are wanting in that virtue.
It must, however, be borne in mind, that where we
would give vent to the deepest expressions of gratitude,
they say nothing. We place the highest value on life,
while they, being blessed with a comfortable fatalism,
which assumes that each man’s destiny is written on his
forehead in invisible characters, and being, besides, un-
troubled with any doubts or thoughts as to the nature of
their reception in the next world, take matters of life and
death a great deal more unconcernedly, and, compared
with our ideas, they may be said to present an almost
apathetic indifference on these subjects. I have seen a
man save another from drowning, and in exactly one of
those situations where most risk has to be incurred, and
hardly a remark made on either side; and, as an instance
of what we would consider to be an act worthy of some
notice, but which they think little of, I may mention /
the following incident. -
*
96 NATIVE CAHARACTER.
Some miles from my house there is a cave so deep that
the longest sticks we could procure would not reach to
the end of it. Into that cave one morning a bear was
marked down, and as we could get him out in no other
way, we lit a large fire at the entrance, with the view
of smoking him out. There were, however, so many
crevices in the roof of the cave that I felt sure that
Bruin need not come out unless he liked. I accordingly
sent all the people away to some distance, and, with a
single man, sat over the mouth of the cave. The result
that I anticipated soon followed. Imagining that we
had given up the thing in despair, and being desirous
of leaving such questionable quarters, Bruin presently
appeared, looking cautiously about him. I fired, and
wounded him somewhere in the throat–seriously, but
not fatally. He plunged into a jungly ravine close to
the cave, pursued by a bull terrier, which detained him
sufficiently long to enable me to run round and cut him
off. A hill-man accompanied me, armed with a general
officer's sword which I had brought out—why, I really
forget now, for it was as blunt as a poker. The bull
terrier rejoined me; and, in company with two other
natives who had run after us, I got tºr) on a piece of rock
about three feet high. The man with trie sword was on my
right, and the two natives—who were unarmed—on my
left. Sore and angry, the bear presently made his appear-
ance. I fired at and hit him ; he turned round, took a
look at us, and charged. As he came on I fired my re-
'maining shot; the man with the sword struck him on the
back, and in a single second more old Bruin had tumbled
us all off our eming ce. There we were—four men, a
wounded bear, and a bull terrier—all on the ground
together. The man of the sword, though, laid about him
A EAA AAVECDOTE. 97
right manfully, and the bear, being either alarmed at
so many people tumbling about, or exhausted with his
wounds, retreated into the ravine out of which he had
emerged. By this time a loaded gun was handed me:
we soon despatched him, and I have the skin at home,
with the sword mark on the back of it. The man who
had shown so much pluck was a young farmer from the
adjacent village, and I at once offered him the Sword
with which he had defended me. But he seemed to
think he had done nothing, and positively declined it,
saying that his neighbours would be jealous of his having
such a fine-looking thing. I had, however, a knife made
after the native fashion, and gave it him in commemora-
tion of the event. - -
Though, however, natives will have their own lives
saved and save other people's with the same indifference,
it must not be supposed that under no circumstances will
the saving of life affect their feelings. Where the saving
of life involves a great deal of trouble and attention, they
express, in their own way, as much gratitude as would
satisfy any reasonable man. And, as a case to the point,
... I may recur to that of the farmer who was mentioned in
the first chapter as having been wounded severely by a
tiger. He was car, led to my house, and laid on one of
my beds, in the next room to myself, and, for the first
night, in the same room with a friend of mine, who
fortunately had beerf educated for medicine before he
betook himself to the service. The Indian's arms were
almost torn to pieces by thirteen lacerated wounds; but
the wounds were skilfully dressed, bandages were applied,
and water was dropped on them tºy and night. The
man, however, had a good constitution; no fever came
on; and, to the astonishment of myself and of the whole
WOL. I. H
98. AWA 7/VE CAAAACTER.
country-side, he completely recovered. Ever afterwards,
when I returned from a visit to one of our cantonments,
or after an absence from home, he was one of my first
visitors, though his house was four or five miles from
mine, and brought me little presents of honey, fruit,
and eggs.
Nor are they wanting in those small returns for small
favours which sufficiently indicate their appreciation of
kindness; and though at the risk of exciting a smile, I
may mention that I have frequently had a soda-water
bottle that had been given full of medicine returned
full of honey. -
Cases of ingratitude must, no doubt, have occasionally
occurred; and, in the ordinary average of affairs, it is
certain that a proportion of unfavourable examples must
have cropped up, but at this moment I can only recollect
the following one. A farmer from a distant village once
came to me for medicine. I gave him the medicine in a
wine-glass, and told him that if a cure resulted from the
dose I should expect to be paid for it. He went away,
and I never saw him or the glass from that day to this.
I conclude these remarks on obligations in general by
informing the reader that my native neighbours supplied
me with straw to thatch my house with the first year, and
that not a man came to be paid. I asked my native
clerk and overseer how that was, and he said that as it
was my first year the farmers did not mean to charge
anything for the straw; and I was accordingly obliged
to send for them and insist on their taking the money.
Years afterwards, when I opened a new estate ten miles
from my original one, the farmer who supplied me with
straw for thatching wanted to give it me for nothing.
It would be easy to attribute interested motives for this;
VEA’AC/7P. - 99
but to what can interested motives not be attributed P
“Do good even to the wicked” seems a position difficult
to turn; but “it is best to stop the dog's mouth with a
morsel.”
Turning now to the subject of veracity, I am insensibly
reminded of the text a worthy Scotch clergyman of the
olden days preached from, and of the remark he first
made thereon. “‘I said in my haste, All men are liars.’
Ay, David, and had ye lived in this parish ye might
have said it at your leesure.” In saying that David might
have extended his remarks to my native neighbours,
had he lived amongst them, I might, if I chose to
indulge in a little suggestio falsi, at once dismiss the
whole subject of veracity. But this matter is not to be
so easily got rid of. In truth, of all the subjects I have
undertaken to write about, this is the most difficult; for
who can tell the proportion of lies to truth in any
country or in any class? And the subject, moreover, is
so clogged by the variation in the current value of
words, that it becomes very difficult to draw the line
between lies and exaggerations. Talking of variations
in the value of words and modes of expression, it may
not be amiss if we turn back a little in the history of
our phraseology, and listen to the complaints that Til-
lotson made many a year ago, and which were quoted by
Addison on the 21st of June, 1714. Said the worthy
archbishop:—“The old English plainness and sincerity,
that generous integrity of nature and honesty of dis-
position, which always argues true greatness of mind,
and is usually accompanied with undaunted courage
and resolution, is in a great measure lost among us.
The dialect of conversation is nowadays so swelled
with vanity and compliment, and so surfeited (as I may
H 2
foo AVA 7TIVE CAAAACTER.
say) with expressions of kindness and respect, that if a
man that lived an age or two ago should return into the
world again, he would really want a dictionary to help
him to understand his own language, and to know the
true, intrinsic value of the phrases in fashion; and
would hardly at first believe at what a low rate the
highest strains and expressions of kindness imaginable
do commonly pass in current payment; and when he
should come to understand it, it would be a great while
before he could bring himself, with a good countenance
and a good conscience, to converse with men upon equal
terms, and in their own way.” Following that, we
have a letter of Addison, which he gives as exemplifying
the foregoing passage, and which is so pleasantly written
that I am sure the reader will prefer it to any remarks
I might make to the same effect. The letter is supposed
to be written by the Ambassador of Bantam to his
royal master a little after his arrival in England.
“Master, The people where I now am have tongues
further from their hearts than from London to Bantam,
and thou knowest the inhabitants of one of these places
do not know what is done in the other. They call thee
and thy subjects barbarians, because we speak what
we mean ; and account themselves a civilised people,
because they speak one thing and mean another; truth
they called barbarity, and falsehood politeness. Upon
my first landing, one, who was sent by the king of this
place to meet me, told me that he was extremely sorry
for the storm I had met with just before my arrival.
I was troubled to hear him grieve and afflict himself
on my account; but in less than a quarter of an hour
he smiled, and was as merry as if nothing had happened.
Another, who came with him, told me, by my interpreter,
FXAGG ERA 7/O/VS. I O I
he should be glad to do me any service that lay in his
power. Upon which I desired him to carry one of my
portmanteaus for me; but, instead of serving me accord-
ing to his promise, he laughed, and bid another do it.
I lodged, the first week, at the house of one who desired
me to think myself at home, and to consider his house
as my own. Accordingly, I the next morning began
to knock down one of the walls of it, in order to let
in the fresh air, and had packed up some of the house-
hold goods, of which I intended to have made thee a
present; but the false warlet no sooner saw me falling
to work but he sent word to me to give over, for that he
would have no such doings in his house.” After some
more lamentations in the same strain, the imaginary
ambassador says that he does not know how he shall
negotiate anything with this people, since there is so
little credit to be given to them; and, as an instance
of their lying disposition, observes that he is often told
that the king's scribe is not at home, though perhaps he
saw the scribe aforesaid go into his house the very
moment before. But the whole letter is an amusing
illustration of the current value of terms, and a little
reflection as to the value of expressions in his own
country will perhaps help to teach some of our country-
men to distinguish between lies and complimentary
falsehoods of language which are not intended to deceive.
I have dwelt upon this point to what may appear to
many to be an unjustifiable length, but prejudices are
so easily acquired from the want of reflection, and young
Englishmen acquire so readily a universal distrust from
inferring that the language of compliments is necessarily
an evidence of a general intention to deceive, that it
would be difficult to enter too fully into this part of
I O2 MATIVE CA/AAA CTER.
the subject, which is well illustrated amongst them-
selves by the proverb–º If the king saith at noon-
day, It is night, you are to say, Behold the moon and
the stars;” and I accordingly proceed to give a few
instances of their way of speaking. A native will
perhaps tell you that he has seen a wild boar as big as
a bull buffalo, or a tiger with a tail as thick as an
elephant's trunk, which, being interpreted, means simply
that he has seen a large boar or a full-grown tiger.
When a man tells me, on my return home, that the
country has been enveloped in an impenetrable dark-
ness during my absence, and that light has returned
along with me, it is merely another way of saying that
he is glad to see me back again. When a man observes
that he has hidden himself in my stomach, he merely
means that he has come to me for protection, and he
means to infer the same when he says that he is sitting
in my shade. This language of exaggeration and of
compliment is naturally distasteful to Englishmen, and
I think, on the whole, that from its frequent recurrence
it goes a long way to prejudice our countrymen against
the Indians.
Having thus fairly settled in the mind of the reader
the current value of Asiatic phraseology, I may now
turn his attention to the causes of so many lies being
told to Englishmen in India. This for once being finally
settled, and being provided against by Englishmen
going to India, will do more to add to their comfort,
and to aid them in managing any business they have to
undertake, than anything I could possibly tell them.
The cause, then, of so many lies being told is simply
that the natives generally are afraid of us, and look
upon us as some curious animals whose principles of
AVO 7"RUTH WHERE FEAR PREVA/ZS. I O3
action it is impossible to discover, and whose ire may
at any moment be unexpectedly aroused. In the old
fable it is written, “That is not a council where there
are no elders; those are not elders who declare not the
law. That is not law in which truth is not ; and there
is no truth where fear prevails.” Fear and uncertainty,
then, are the principal reasons of so many lies being told
to Englishmen; and, as a rule, it may confidently be
said that the more violent the character of the English-
man is, the worse will be his opinion of Indians. To
illustrate this connection between fear and lying I
may mention the following incident. On my estate
we employed a considerable quantity of labour, which
comes from the interior of Mysore. These men come in
gangs, which constantly shift from one estate to another.
One Sunday I met three or four of these open-country
coolies in the neighbourhood of my property. One of
their number, a lad of about sixteen, had an estate
spade in his hand. I asked him sharply where he got
that from. “Oh 1” he answered, “one of the local
coolies lent it to me.” Another of the party, who
seemed to know me better, said, “Not at all; we
borrowed it yesterday from your manager to do some
work about our huts, and we have just been out digging
for rats with it.” The lad here simply lied from fright.
It is a fact that I have very seldom found the natives
On my estate lie to me; and my late manager, who did
not leave Scotland till he was twenty-six, and who has
been a factor and a farmer, and has had a great deal to
do with the labouring classes, told me that the people
in India told him no more lies than people of the
same class at home. Whether this is the case or not
I have no means of judging. The evidence of this
IO4. AVA 7/VE CA/ARACTER.
t
§
gentleman was certainly the best I think it would be
possible to procure, and the only thing that I think
could possibly have affected the result was the extra-
Ordinary influence he had over the Indians in general.
But this assertion, after all, is only a confirmation of
what I have previously stated, namely, that the better
the character and tact of the Englishman, the better
will his opinion be of the people he has to do with.
The disturbing influence of fear will be withdrawn, and
the natural bent of human nature, as shown in the
ordinary affairs of life, will come out; and, as in these
affairs lies are unnecessary and superfluous, a scarcity of
lies will assuredly follow.
Another thing is, that Indians generally get very
little encouragement to speak their minds, and the con-
sequence is that they often speak, as most Europeans
have discovered, merely to please the man they are
addressing. If, when I went out shooting with my
native neighbours, they thought I had missed an
animal that I was confident I must have hit, an opinion
adverse to mine would be stoutly maintained. But
the Indians in general would never dream of maintain-
ing their opinion against that of an Englishman, or, if
they did, they would soon learn to suppress their senti-
ments for the future. I was once out shooting in the
neighbourhood of my estate with a gentleman who had
a couple of peons with him. Two bison were beaten
out, my friend fired right and left, declared they were
hit, and his attendants of course agreed with him. The
bison broke back, and were with difficulty turned in
the open by a plucky old farmer, who waved his blanket
at them, and then drove them back into the jungle,
which was again beaten, but this time without success.
O7A/EA CA USAES OF LP/WG. 1 O5
When we were assembled after the beat, my friend
observed that he had hit the bison at any rate. But
the old man, who had had no experience of Englishmen
beyond myself, observed that the balls must have struck
the ground, for the bison had not a mark on them. My
friend turned to me and said in English, “What on
earth does that old fool mean by contradicting me?”
Much to my amusement, the old man, thinking he had
not been clearly understood, said, “They escaped with-
out a wound.” My friend now got really angry; the -
old farmer at last understood what the matter was, and
f
experience have long ago arrived at, namely, to speak
to please, or not at all.
We have now spoken of three kinds of lies—the lies
of exaggeration, the lies of fear, and the lies which,
based generally on fear, are told to please the person
addressed. As I have shown, the lies of the first descrip-
tion, being not lies of deception, need be taken no
account of ; and as to the lies arising from the other
two causes, the European may just have as little or -
as much as he chooses. For all time forward, then,
I think it should be clearly understood that the supply
of lies will be always exactly in proportion to the cha-
racter of the individual European; that they will increase,
if his disposition is violent and unreasonable; and that \
they will fall to a minimum if his character is humane )
and reasonable.
These I believe to be undoubted facts, and they are
the results of long and attentive observation. But the
reader must not therefore understand that the people
I have to do with on my plantations are at bottom as
truthful as the working classes in Scotland, because the


I off AWA 7/VE CAAA’ACTER.
proportion of lies you are told may not be greater. The
lower classes in Scotland would not, I conceive, exhibit .
a greater or lesser amount of truth under various masters,
and the reason of this is partly that they would not be
influenced by fear, and partly because their moral sense
has been raised by their religious and educational oppor-
tunities. Now, the moral sense as regards truth has not
been developed amongst the natives on my property, nor
amongst the natives in general, and therefore, having no
Solid ground to stand upon, they would always, under
Severe and capricious masters, lie without the smallest
scruple. To this remark occasional exceptions may be
found, but I have no doubt of its general truth as
regards the Indian labourers of Munzerabad, or of any
other district similarly situated.
As regards the difficult subject of comparative lying,
I have given the only reliable evidence I have ever met
with—I mean the evidence of a man thoroughly expe-
rienced as regards labour in Scotland and as regards
labour in Munzerabad. To this I now think it desirable
to add some opinions and evidence as to the proportion
of truth existing amongst the English lower classes, and
I do this in order that people going to India may be
shown that “it is hard for empty sacks to stand up-
right,” and that it is not advisable to go looking for
pears on elm-trees in any quarter of the globe.
Mr. J. S. Mill has declared “that in Great Britain
the higher classes, for the most part, speak truth, while
the lower classes, almost without exception, have fre-
quent recourse to falsehood.” And in quoting him, the
author of “The Recreations of a Country Parson,” after
recording an opinion somewhat to the contrary, adds,
“Still I must sorrowfully admit that I have found in
z/ZS WO7. UVKNOWN IN ENGLAND. 107
many people a strong tendency, when they have done
anything wrong, to justify themselves by falsehood.”
What value to attach to these opinions I can form no
idea, but it seems to me that the person I am now going
to quote ought to be as near the mark as we are likely
to be able to go. The author of “Habits and Customs
of the Working Classes” was himself really one of
them; and though he seems to talk of lying as “framing
plausible answers,” and cheating as doing “corporation
work,” or works of their own, at a time when they have
sold their time to their employer, we must not conceal
from ourselves that lying and deception, in some form
or other, seem to be common amongst the English
working classes. At page 85 in his work we are
initiated into the most important duty of an appren-
tice, which is called in the trade “keeping nix.” His
capacity for keeping guard and warning skulkers,
readers, Smokers, or “corporation workers,” seems to
be the highest test of merit, and it is not pleasant to
read that a neglect of this duty will result in “a stout
stick and his back probably being made acquainted.”
But examine human nature where you will, and it is
difficult to escape from the conclusion that wherever
lying and deceiving are found to answer, the tone of
opinion will easily accommodate itself to the require-
ments of the moment, till cheating and lying, where
cheating and lying pay, will come to be regarded as
venial offences. And that this fact is unfortunately
too true we have ample evidence in this country, when
We come to glance at the proofs of adulteration of almost
every article, and the numbers of convictions for false
weights and measures. In short, to be an English shop-
keeper is tantamount to saying that you must both lie
I O3 AVATIVE CA/ARACTER.
and cheat directly or indirectly; and so universal is this
melancholy necessity, that a clergyman once told me
that a conscientious hairdresser's apprentice had con-
Sulted him as to what he should do when he was called
upon to sell preparations for the growth of the hair
which he well knew would have little effect.
It is with real pleasure that I quit this vague, uncon-
genial, and unsatisfactory subject, to offer my experience
as to the general honesty of my native neighbours, or, in
other words, of the farmers of the villages round about
my house. Whatever variation in truth there might be
amongst the people in general, there was none here.
“Well, Rāma,” I would say to a farmer who came to
speak to me, “what do you want?” “I want twenty
rupees. A bullock of mine has just died, and I must
buy another. I’ll pay you back after harvest.” In this
way, and for marriages and different purposes, I re-
peatedly lent money (nearly always without a receipt,
excepting where the sum was large), from ten shillings
to £20 and £30. And not only did I never lose a
farthing by doing so, but I cannot remember their ever
failing to keep their word as to the time of payment.”
In fact, it was a pleasure to have to do with them in any
matter of business; and in selling anything to them, or
in buying grain from them, I cannot remember a single
instance of any difference or dissatisfaction between us.
If I opened my money-bags to them, they were equally
free with me. When a new arrival in our district came
to my house, he was astonished to see a farmer walk
into the room, money-bag in hand, put perhaps 4:10
* The oldest planter in Mysore, who had lived amongst these people for
fifteen years before I entered India, told me he had often lent money in the
same way, and had never been a loser by the transactions.
GAEAVERAZ SEWSAE OF FA/RAVES.S. I O9
on the table, and walk off. As I explained in a previous
part of this chapter, the treasury sometimes ran dry, or
some unexpected demand for money would arise, and
I had occasion often to borrow money for ten or fifteen
days. I have great pleasure, too, in bearing testimony
to their general sense of fairness, and I am always will-
ing to have any dispute between myself and my native
neighbours settled by an Indian punchayet, or court of
arbitration—my opponents to choose two farmers, my-
self two, and these four a fifth, and the majority to
decide. When my cattle and the cattle of my servants
and native overseers have trespassed on a farmer's field,
I have simply sent a jury to assess the damages, and
then levied them on myself and my people. When, for
instance, the cart-men who take our coffee to the coast
fail to deliver the exact quantity delivered to them, the
result is that the merchant at the coast deducts the value
from the balance of hire due. The men, perhaps, return
and declare they can’t account for the loss, and that there
must have been some mistake. In that case the remedy
is to offer to appeal to a punchayet, and my manager in
India has standing orders to settle all disputes by means
of a punchayet. And to this institution every native is
willing to appeal who has got a fair case, and nothing is -
more common than to hear a man conclude an account
of his grievances by saying that he will stand by the
decision of a jury. I once referred a dispute about some
coffee to a jury, which decided in my favour. Being
willing to please the cart-men, I then said that I would
toss up whether I should pay half the loss they had
sustained, or nothing at all. With imperturbable
gravity the foreman tossed up seven times. I won,
and my opponents, though they got nothing, went away


I IO - AWA TVVE CA/ARA C 7TEA’.
A well Satisfied. I shall have more to say about this
institution of punchayets in another part of this work,
but I think it here quite worth while to urge upon any
man who is settled amongst the rural populations that he
&:
>n:
had far better prefer a settlement of disputes by a jury
to referring his disputes to the courts. -
The general impression arising from all my dealings
and all my intercourse with the farmers in the neighbour-
hood was, that they were a very honest and trustworthy
set of people. Some amongst them there were, of course,
that I would not have trusted as far as I could throw
an elephant by the tail; but, with these exceptions, the
general result was as I state it. Of this farmer class
I have employed a few of the poorer on my estate as
labourers, and of these several were promoted to be
overseers; and in that capacity I have found them
extremely intelligent, honest, and industrious, and
thoroughly to be depended on in every way.
I may here remark that, judging from the accounts I
have often read, and from the remarks I have often
heard made, people seem to be under the impression that
natives have little or no appreciation for moral worth and
general honesty and goodness of character. But I can
assure the reader that this is quite a delusion, and, as a
case in point, I may mention the following incident.
I once went to see a poor todyman, a tenant of mine,
who was supposed to be dying, and I could not help
being struck with the fact that, though of the lowest
caste but one in the country, there were people of every
caste present, who had come either to inquire after, or to
see whether they could do anything for him. Though
his house was in an isolated part of the jungle, there
also was the mother of the village head man, who was

AWA 7TVE AAEAEREC/ATIO/W OF CAAAACTER. I I I
of the Lingayet caste (people who neither eat meat nor
drink tody). I asked why it was that this poor man
should receive such marks of attention and respect, an
the answer simply was, that he was a good man who
had never harmed any one. The fact is that an honest,
truthful man is just as much respected by his neigh- |
bours as he would be in any part of the world.
Having thus glanced at the character of the people
about me as regards their gratitude, the Veracity of the
labourers on my plantation, and the general honesty and
veracity of the farmers amongst whom I lived, I shall
now proceed to take some notice of the way they take
dying in general, including hanging ; and, after having
done with that, I shall proceed to say something as to
the way my native neighbours treat their wives and
children, and as to their general manners in various
other particulars.
When I first settled amongst my native neighbours
I brought with me a certain troublesome principle called
sympathy, which induced me to relieve the sufferings
of others whenever I could. As medicines for fever and
dysentery were unknown, I had ample opportunities of
indulging the sympathies aforesaid, which were no
doubt aided insensibly by the love of exhibiting one's
power over the symptoms of disease. Naturally and |
beneficially these sympathies gradually disappeared,
partly from over-use, partly, no doubt, from insensibly
catching the principles of my native friends, till at last y
I could look upon suffering and dying people with an \
almost complete indifference. By that time, however, "
the operation of a beautiful law of nature came in;
the habit of relieving the sick became confirmed,
and operated more comfortably, more powerfully, and



112 AVA TVVE CA/ARACTER.
far more regularly than the original principle with which
I started. The result of all this was, that, it being
impossible to resist the force of habit, I gradually became
a sort of physician-general. When they were sick, the
farmers round about came to me, and when they could
not, I went to them ; and thus it was that I came to
have a very intimate acquaintance with the circum-
stances I am now going to talk of.
Taking an outside view of the matter, the first thing
that strikes an Englishman is the apparently heartless
indifference with which the probable result of illness is
talked of in the presence of the sick person. “Do you
think he will live or die?” would be asked me quite
coolly, and quite within the hearing of the sick man.
When last I went to India, in 1867, I went to see the wife
of a tenant of mine. She was in much pain, and, with
the view of lessening it, I advised a change in her posi-
tion. This caused her to cry out, upon which her husband
said, “Don’t call out—you'll die soon.” This seemed
certainly a very matter-of-fact way of taking things,
and the inference therefrom would naturally be unfavour-
able. But nothing, after all, is more deceptive than the
argument from outward signs, and, in proof of that state-
ment, I think I can point out an illustration not very
far remote from our times, nor very far remote from the
spot I am now writing these Indian reminiscences. Dean
Ramsay, in his admirable “Reminiscences of Scottish Life
and Character,” in reference to the way the older genera-
tion of Scottish people took death and its surroundings,
tells a very similar tale. “In connection,” he says,
“with the awful subject of death and all its concomi-
tants, it has often been remarked that the older genera-
tion of Scottish people used to view the circumstances
WAP OF ZOOK/AWG. A 7" D/EA 7/7. II 3
belonging to the decease of their nearest and dearest
friends with a coolness which does not, at first sight,
seem consistent with their deep and sincere religious
impressions. Amongst the peasantry this was some-
times manifested in an extraordinary and startling
manner. I do not believe that these persons had less
affection for their friends than a corresponding class in
England, but they had less awe of the concomitants of
death, and approached them with more familiarity. For
example, I remember, long ago at Fasque, my sister-in-
law visiting a worthy and attached old couple, of whom
the husband, Charles Duncan, who had been gardener
at Fasque for above thirty years, was evidently dying.
He was sitting on a common deal chair, and on my
sister proposing to send down for his use an old arm-
chair which she recollected was laid up in a garret, his
wife exclaimed against such a needless trouble. ‘Hout,
my lady what would he be duin’ wi' an arm-chair 2
He's just deein’ fast awa’.’” -
And if the reader chooses to read on, he will find a
Quaint matter-of-factism, as regards these matters of
death and the life beyond, which might lead him to
very unpleasant inferences.” But these things, being
explained away, diminish the mass of illusion which it
is our destiny to Wade through, if we choose to examine
minutely the affairs of life.
Continuing my observations on death, I now come to
a hanging which I went to, partly as the hanging took
place from my house, and partly as I was fond of observ-
ing native life from every point of view.
It was on a fine day in October that I set out with
* And similarly it was with my native neighbours, but by many a sign I knew
and saw that they often felt deaths as acutely as we do.
WOL. I. I
I I 4 AWA 7TIVE CAAFACTER.
the English magistrate of the district, and a brother
planter, for the place of execution, which was distant
about three miles from my plantation. We found, on
our arrival, a considerable crowd collected, amounting,
I should say, to about five hundred people, all of whom
were boys or men. The place of execution was the
summit of a piece of sloping, open grass land, which
commanded a tolerable view of the surrounding country.
Dotted here and there about the crown of the slope were
a few moderate-sized trees, and from a projecting bough
of one of these swung a cotton rope, immediately below
which was a rude bench about six feet high, with a
smaller one below it, by means of which the prisoner
was to step to the larger bench above, which was to
be suddenly withdrawn when the cord was adjusted.
The scene was extremely striking. On one side were
ranged the silent crowd, around the tree of execution
were posted a few native horse in their gay uniforms,
and on the side nearest to the crowd, and within a few
yards of the fatal noose, sat the prisoner, calm and col-
lected, though by no means indifferent to the fate that
awaited him. A hundred yards below, you could see
through the date bushes the freshly-turned mould of
the grave in which his remains were to be interred.
When we reached the ground, the village blacksmith
was engaged in removing the prisoner's fetters: the
operation took some time, and the clink of the hammer
sounded strangely loud and clear in the fine rarefied
atmosphere of the elevated ground on which we stood.
While the fetters were being removed, the prisoner,
who was surrounded by his relatives, handed betel to
them occasionally, and chewed some himself now and
then. Several papers relating to his property were handed
AAAVG/WG A MOWA’/D/E/& ER. II 5
to him, and he signed them with unshaken composure.
At this time I was within two yards of the prisoner,
and, though I watched his demeanour very attentively,
could detect no sign of either remorse or bravado in his
manner or countenance. When, however, he stood up
and looked around on the crowd, a slight quiver of the
lip, a sign of emotion which can hardly be suppressed,
though the eye be unmoved and the cheek unblenched,
showed clearly that the man’s mind was not deadened
by apathy, but animated with that fortitude with which
the Asiatic generally meets the decrees of fate. He
remained standing but a few seconds, and then, having
covered himself from head to foot with a thin cotton
cloth, immediately sat down with his back towards us.
“He is going to say his prayers,” said my brother planter.
“He is going to eat his breakfast,” I rejoined, as I
observed a brass lotah full of milk handed under the
cloth. There was something horribly ludicrous in the
whole scene. Here was a man on the verge of another
world, composedly breakfasting as it were on the very
scaffold itself. Imagine, reader, the expectant crowd;
the native officials, civil and military; the now some-
what impatient magistrate; the fatal tree with its dan-
gling noose; the newly-opened grave; and then imagine
the man for whom all these preparations had been made,
deliberately eating away, and occasionally washing down
his repast with a draught of milk. It was now getting
late, and we had been standing all this time under the
fierce tropical Sun. I thought it the longest meal I had
ever attended, but at last it came to an end. The pri-
soner was then asked if he had anything to say; but, in
answer to this, he merely begged that his family might
be looked after. He then took leave of his wife and
I 2
I 16 AVA 77 VE CA/AAA C7'EP.
female relations without a sign of emotion. As he was
moving towards the scaffold, or what answered as such,
he was told to take off his turban, and, as he did so, and
threw it down, a slight gleam of contempt shot across
his Swarthy features. He then ascended the scaffold,
where he was again asked if he had anything to say.
The prisoner replied, “Call Marnty Gouda.” Marnty
Gouda, the head man of the prisoner's village, came
forward, and accompanying his observation with a
respectful salutation, the prisoner said, “Give me leave,
I am going.” His hands and feet were then tied, and a
white cotton bag tied over his head. Then came a
scene which filled every one with horror and disgust.
The rope was found to be too short ; it was ordered
to be lengthened; and, in the confusion that ensued, the
policemen who were supporting the prisoner both com-
menced to fumble at the rope. The bench was not
eighteen inches wide, and the consequence was that in a
second the prisoner lost his balance, and fell with stun-
ning force on his face. He uttered no cry, but groaned
heavily two or three times. As they raised him, appa-
rently half insensible, I shall never forget the impres-
sion made upon me by the sight of the sinking limbs,
and the blood which, streaming down his face, stained
crimson the white cotton cloth with which his head
was enveloped. The rope had now been lengthened,
the unhappy man was half lifted, half supported on to
the bench, and he died without a struggle. I turned
immediately to scan the countenances of the people,
in order to gather, if possible, the impression the scene
had made on them; and, as I looked at man after man,
and expression after expression, I felt convinced that
these, at any rate, were not the apathetic Asiatics I had
AVATIVE WOTIONS REGARDING MURDER. 117
read of, and that, on the whole, they felt much as
I did.
On the way home I went chatting along with my
native neighbours. I asked one what he thought of
hanging a man for murder. He briefly replied in a
saying of four words, which, being interpreted, means,
“It shall be done to a man as he hath done: death
to the murderer.” I asked another if it was not a
remarkable thing that the prisoner had showed no signs
of fear. “Would the Government have released him if
he had been afraid P” was the answer. I said, “Certainly
not.” “Then,” said my practical friend, “what would
have been the use of his being afraid” Another man
said that it was a good thing that he was hung, as there
was no knowing who he might have murdered next.
I do not know what change the ideas of my native
neighbours may since have undergone, but when I first
settled among them they seemed to have some curious
notions as to the way we would probably regard murders,
and of the reward murderers ought to meet with. On
one occasion a coolie in one of the villages contiguous
to my property murdered the village carpenter. The
murder happened in this way:-On the day previous a
brother of the coolie in question was herding some cattle,
which, Owing to his negligent look-out, trespassed on
the carpenter's field. The carpenter accordingly thrashed
the negligent cowherd, who told his brother, and who,
the day after, struck the carpenter on the head with a
stake, and, as he was falling to the ground, stove in two
ribs with the same instrument. Now, the murderer was
the hereditary serf of the principal farmer in the village,
who accordingly came to me and narrated the circum-
stances. He certainly seemed to think that the worst
II 8 AWA 77 VE CA/AAA CTER.
use you could put a man to was hanging him, and he
proposed that the difficulty should be got over by my
begging the magistrate to let him off: “And,” said the
worthy farmer, “I’ll give him to you, and he can work
for you till he dies.” How they managed the matter
I don’t exactly know, but the murderer got a year's
imprisonment, and certainly seemed none the worse for
it. The fact was that such cases had then to go for
trial to the head-quarters of the division, which were
about eighty miles off, and the result was that it was
extremely difficult to obtain a conviction for murder.
In those days, too, one's native overseers had rather
curious ideas of the way of doing one a service. On
one occasion, after an absence of two days from home,
I found that there were warrants out to apprehend two
of my coolies for rioting in the weekly market, which
was held three miles from my house. The native I had
left in charge looked upon his share of the transaction
with considerable satisfaction. Some coolies, he said,
had gone to the market, and had engaged in a mélée
with some tody-sellers. The coolies, finding they were
getting the worst of it, sent to the plantation for assist-
ance. “And what did you do then P” I asked my
native overseer. “Oh 1” he said with a triumphant air,
“I at once sent off all the people who were at work,
armed with clubs; they drove the opposite party out of
the market, and all the shops were shut.”
Turning now to the way they treat their wives and
children, I shall have something to say that is doubtful,
but a good deal that is pleasant both to witness and to
tell. Let us look at the doubtful first. Said a farmer
to me one day, “What do you do with your wives in
your country when they scold, and you can’t get them
A EEPZWG WIVES MAW ORDER. I I 9
to hold their tongues 2 Do you take a stick to them as
people here are sometimes obliged to do 2 The tongue of
a troublesome woman,” he truly added, “is as persistent
as the falling of a waterfall.” And I dare say that it
is not impossible that a virago may have come in for a
thrashing now and then, though amongst my farming
friends I never heard of an instance of it. With the
lower classes, though, I have heard of occasional ex-
amples of wife-beating—a practice which seems not to
be altogether unknown in civilised countries. But the
Women of our coolies require, I imagine, at least the
dread of a thrashing to keep them in order. During
my absence from home, my late manager, who was a
very tender-hearted man, had warmly espoused the cause
of some coolie woman who had either been thrashed, or,
at least, alleged she had been. The news of his woman-
supporting tendencies had evidently spread; the con-
sequence was, that on my return home I found that
nearly every woman on the estate had risen against her
husband; and I found, ranged in front of my manager,
a whole row of complainants and defendants, the women
complaining of their husbands, and the husbands assert-
ing that their wives, without leave asked, had been
absenting themselves from home, and resorting to the
tody-shops. To the horror of my manager, I at once
said, “You don’t understand these people at all;” and,
addressing the coolies in general, I said, “Let every
man on this estate take his wife and thrash her when-
ever she does wrong.” This at once settled the ques-
tion, order was restored, and things went on peaceably
for the future.*
* This may seem to be a curious way of getting rid of a difficulty, but the
women well knew that I would firmly support them if they had any well-
founded grounds of complaint. -
I 2 O AVA TV VE CAAA’ACTER.
To revert to the women of the farming classes, what-
ever my friend may have hinted about the sticks, I am
sure that their wives were, on the whole, treated ex-
tremely well. They had no hard work to do of any
sort, except assisting at the rice-planting season and at
harvest, all the ploughing and hard work of every
description being done by the men. Then, as to the
subordinate position they are supposed to hold, I am
satisfied that that is equally a delusion. A Hindoo
widow of sense and discretion is respected and attended
to by her grown-up sons as much and, I imagine, even
more than a widow would be in most parts of the world.”
The ladies of England will be glad to learn that feminine
influence exercises often a happy effect amongst these
people, and two of the best native families in my neigh-
bourhood were entirely brought up by widows. They were
both of them, and one in particular, sharp, clear-headed
women, and the influence they had with their family
would have satisfied the most exacting in any country.
In many respects Hindoo women are quite as well off,
and in some better off than Englishwomen. A Hindoo
widow not only succeeds to a share of the husband’s
property, but property that may have become hers
* In some recent works we find certain Hindoo texts quoted by English
writers as evidence of the subjection of women. But what is often taken as
evidence of one class of facts is, I am persuaded, nothing really but evidence
of what man, indulging at once his imagination and his literary propensities,
has written and handed down; and this written law is certainly evidence of
what some one has written, but to quote it as a proof of anything else is a
delusion. “Is it not the practice of women of immaculate chastity to eat after
their husbands have eaten, to sleep only after they have slept, and to rise from
sleep before them P’’ And again, is it not written, “Let a wife who wishes to
perform sacred ablutions wash the feet of her lord and drink the water P’ All
this reminds me very much of our marriage ceremony, which certainly reads
uncommonly well, but I do not think, from my own observation, that it could
well be quoted as evidence of that implicit obedience which the British matron
usually pays to her husband. In the same way, laws concocted by Brahmins
are quoted as evidence of what really occurred, instead of as evidence of what
the priestly classes would like to have enforced.
JAWA'LUEAVCAE OF HIVDOO WIDOWS. I 2 I
before marriage, as well as gifts bestowed on her at
the time of the marriage, are retained for her separate
use, though property acquired afterwards belongs to the
family. Hindoo women can even succeed to an official
position (as in England a woman may become a church-
warden), and the potail of a village in my neighbour-
hood is a widow who holds it till her son grows up.
In the Rig Veda there are many expressions of tender-
ness, which show that their women and homes Were
highly prized.
The way in which children are treated by these
people is certainly the most amiable feature in their
character. Nor does this treatment extend merely to
their own children. If you see a well-dressed, well-
fed, spoilt farmer boy, you may be sure that he is an
orphan. Our practice of shutting up or cutting short
boys who may wish to express their opinions is entirely
unknown; and nothing has often amused me so much
as to find a boy offering opinions and attempting to give
directions to a whole party of men. The men, of course,
pay no attention to them, and the only notice perceptible
would be, perhaps, an amused smile. But on this
feature in the character of the people I need not detain
the reader any longer, as the severest maligners of the
Indians generally admit that, in this respect, they can
set any people in the world an example.
The political opinions of my native neighbours need
not occupy much space. In fact, the narration of them
need take up little more room than was occupied by a
Norwegian naturalist in enumerating and describing the
Snakes in that country, the heading of snakes being
simply followed by the remark, “There are no snakes
in Norway.” Being desirous, however, of ascertaining
I 2.2 MA 7'IVE CA/AAA CTER.
the sentiments of people on public matters, I once asked
an old farmer what he thought of the question as to
whether the Rajah of Mysore should be allowed to
adopt an heir to succeed him, or the country be taken
over as Queen's territory on his death. “Phoo!” said
the old man, “Rajah here, Queen there; whoever comes
we must grind corn.” Another man said, “What can it
matter as long as we are let alone?” These, then, are
their political sentiments, and I fancy their existence, or
rather non-existence, in most parts of India would be.
expressed in very similar language.
I now have something to say as regards general
manners and a few other points concerning my native
neighbours which can be brought under no particular
classification.
Just as you never know an Englishman thoroughly
unless you get him on board ship, or till you have
thawed him five hundred miles south of Paris, so do
you never know what a native is whom you only see
when he pays you a visit. Visits are always considered
somewhat ceremonial, even by these hill-farmers, and if
you only saw them then you would imagine them to
be a grave and serious people, somewhat dignified,
and altogether immovable. To exhibit any particular
emotion, to speak in a hurry, to give vent to their
thoughts with any degree of freedom, would be con-
sidered bad taste; and, in short, to make themselves
as stupid as possible seems as much a matter of impor-
tance as it is in the most freezing society in England.
Nor, with some rare exceptions, will any degree of fami-
liarity in the sporting-field break through this habit.
A friend of mine, of impatient and enthusiastic tempera-
ment, once came out from Bangalore for a few weeks'
MUWZERAAEA D MAAWAVER.S. I 23
shooting, and his fretting at this custom often afforded
me considerable amusement. On one occasion I recol-
lect seeing a farmer—a real good sportsman—running
down a hill near my house in a style which told me that
he must at least have news of a tiger. I communicated
the probabilities to my friend, who was all on fire to
hear the news. When, however, my native friend got
within a hundred yards of my house, he stopped to take
breath. When he had composed himself to his satisfac-
tion he came to the doorway, and looked in with the
air of a man who had simply come about nothing in
particular. After we had talked for a little, my friend,
who knew no Canarese, broke in with, “What's the
news? Is it a tiger ?” But I told him that we had not
nearly come to that yet, and that I had been inquiring
after the farmer's family, and talking of the state of the
weather and other matters. Affairs had now progressed
sufficiently, and the farmer said, “By the way, a tiger
killed a couple of bullocks near our village this morn-
ing.” “Did he indeed?” I replied, with becoming in-
difference. “I suppose that it would be as well to go
and see if we can find him.” “Yes,” replied my friend,
“perhaps it would ; and now I think of it, the people are
already assembled, and are only waiting for you.” Out
shooting, though, this manner is entirely thrown aside,
and laughing, chatting, and joking is all the rule when
going to and returning from cover, or where there is
no necessity for silence. There is something in the fel-
lowship and pleasure of sport that shakes people up,
and makes even the most reticent and reserved throw
aside their usual caution, and change for the moment a
taciturn for a communicative disposition. Then, when
you get individuals entirely alone, holding your second
I 24. AWA 7TWVE CAAA’ACTER.
gun, or showing you the way to some post at which the
game is likely to break cover, you will learn more of the
ins and outs and of the ways and doings of your native
neighbours than you would in months and years spent in
the ordinary routine of every-day life. Many a curious
bit of native life has thus been communicated to me,
and often have I surprised the farmers about with my
knowledge of things they thought I would have little
chance of hearing; and, as I made it a rule never to
tell the name of the individual from whom I might
happen to hear these odds and ends, my knowledge
seemed all the more extraordinary. On this point of
never disclosing the name of an informant, even on the
most trifling matters, I shall have more to say in my
chapter on the management of natives in general.
Another peculiarity in the manners of my native
neighbours was their habit of never urging their own
cause, stating their own case, or preferring their own
complaints in person, or, I should rather say, without the
intervention of a friend. A farmer who had any par-
ticular case or grievance to relate to me, invariably
brought with him some one who stated the case, while
his principal looked on with apparent unconcern, and
seemed to take no part in the matter at all. The result
of this system was, that a general principle of what we
would call interference was universally established, and
for a man to offer an opinion on what might seem to be
no affair of his, would not be thought at all extra-
ordinary. From not understanding this system, English-
men are generally rather surprised at first, and not
unfrequently inclined to be angry. I shall never forget
the astonishment of a young manager who had lately
arrived in India, when, after my native clerk reading
AAA/TS OF WAVTERFE/REVCE. I 25
out in Canarese a letter I was writing, or rather had
caused to be written, a todyman, or farmer, who hap-
pened to be present, struck in with “That's all wrong;
you must not write like that.” My manager, who was
not yet up in the language, wanted to know what he had
to do with the matter, and was very much surprised to
learn that he had no more to do with it than the man in
the moon. As he very justly remarked, “Fancy a clerk
reading out a letter which he had been ordered to write
by a merchant, and some man, who had come in on
chance, stopping the clerk aforesaid, and telling him
that he had better have written the letter in some other
way.” My native interferer, however, gave his reasons,
and these were so much to the point, that I ordered an
alteration to be made in the letter. To us this may
seem, at first sight, a very inconvenient habit, but I very
soon came to find it precisely the reverse; and, as any
man who came to see me turned on somebody to talk for
him, I found it equally convenient to turn on some
bystander to talk for me, and in this way I have found
that things are often far more fairly and impartially
discussed, not to mention the trouble you are saved by
the process. In matters of this sort I recommend
Englishmen invariably to fall into the native way of
doing things, as it is far easier to adapt yourself to
them than to get them to adapt themselves to you.
I am now going to say something on a point that I
hardly think I should have noticed, or which I easily
might have overlooked, had my attention not been called to
it by some remarks in Shore's “Notes on Indian Affairs.”
I mean the memory of my native neighbours. When-
ever I had occasion to mention the subject in conversa-
tion, I have often remarked on the accuracy displayed
I 26 AVA 7/VE CAAFACTER.
by natives as regards remembering anything that it was
of importance to them to bear in mind, or, in short, re-
collecting any circumstance or particular which attracted
their curiosity or attention. Now, Shore has come to an
exactly contrary conclusion, and Elphinstone remarks
equally on the deficiencies of memory amongst the Indians.
The former, in remarking the inaccuracy of native
memory, says that “certain prominent facts usually re-
main well impressed on their minds, but in details their
want of observation or of recollection is very remarkable;”
and, in corroboration of this opinion, he gives the illustra-
tions which an Indian judge must so constantly meet with.
BHe tells us that it is hardly possible to find a man who
knows his own age, that events are often described as
having occurred yesterday that really happened a year
or two ago, and that to an occurrence of a considerable
time past they will apply a term, the most literal
translation of which is “yesterday, a long way off.”
Now all this, I grant, may prove that a man does not
remember what he is not likely to have any occasion to
call to mind, and that, as regards events in general, he is
in the habit of indulging in inaccuracy of expression, but
defects of memory are not proved thereby. I have fre-
quently observed the same inaccuracies, and, had I been
merely a judge, it is possible that I might have accounted
for them by considering that in these people there was only
another inherent defect to add to the number of special
shortcomings which are supposed to make up what we
call the Asiatic character. But having had occasion to
put them to the test in this as in many other respects,
I have come to the conclusion that few are blessed with
as accurate memories as my native neighbours. And,
as instances of what I mean by accuracy of memory, I
AOWERS OF MEMORP. 127
may mention the following cases out of many which
came within my own observation.
In the first case I have to mention, a native overseer
of mine, who could neither read nor write, used to keep
a check-roll of from thirty to forty men, and, I have
every reason to believe, with perfect accuracy. The
names were written down by me, and opposite each name
were spaces to mark present and absent for the number
of days which made up the month. In order to test
him, I used to write out the names at the beginning of
the month, call them out to him, and ask him to pick
out this or that name, taking them at random—a thing
he hardly ever failed to do, even at his first lesson. He
simply remembered the order they were called out in,
and thus kept the account by simply marking 1 for
present, and 0 for absent; and, in paying the accounts,
I don’t remember having had one disputed.
Another overseer on my estate would be sent to the
open country to collect labour amongst villages some
thirty or forty miles away. To each man he would
give an advance, sometimes 2s., sometimes 2s. 6d.,
sometimes 3s., and so on, in various amounts up to
8s. or 10s. On his return, with perhaps eighty or
one hundred people, he would stand in front of my
desk, give me the name of each man, the name of his
father (for particular identification), and the amount of
advance, and all of this with perfect accuracy.
A third instance I cannot resist mentioning. A con-
tractor, who could neither read nor write, sawed timber
into all sorts of shapes, at the rate of forty-eight feet the
surface foot, he built mud walls for me at a certain rate
of measurement, and he dug an immense quantity of
ditch round my estate by the cubic foot. He carried
I 28 AWA 7TWVE CAAAA CTER.
on all these works at the same time, and he kept all the
accounts in his head, including, of course, those of the
men he employed. The timber accounts were the most
difficult, as one tree would be sawn into rafters, another
into planks, a third into reapers, and so on. I kept the
account of each tree, and, when we came to close
accounts, there was very little difference between us. The
worry and trouble of all these mental accounts, coupled,
I suppose, with anxiety as to whether his undertakings
would pay, drove the unfortunate man half crazy, and
One of my people told me that the contractor thought
of nothing but his accounts day and night; and no
Wonder.
As an instance both of curiosity and of memory, I
may add one instance more, which was certainly more
remarkable than any of the foregoing. For many years
I had no European on my estate, and the only man who
could speak English was my native clerk. Under these
circumstances, you would think it very difficult for any
of the people about me to pick up any English; and
accordingly, when one day I made a remark in English
to my clerk, whom I imagined to be behind me, I was
certainly a good deal surprised to hear a native chime
in in Canarese. I said, “This is very good land,”
and the native said, in Canarese, “’Yes, this is the best
land you have got.” I was struck with what I then
thought was merely a coincidence, but my clerk told
me that the native in question used to pick up whole
sentences of English by ear, and bring them to him
for translation. The native in question was a poor
farmer's son who worked on the plantation, but who,
being of the better classes, was always taken out
shooting, and kept a good deal about with me. When
INSTANCES OF COURAGE. I 29
I had a friend out shooting, he used to listen atten-
tively to what we said, and take home whole sentences
for translation.
Amongst the numerous opinions I have read on
natives and their characteristics, I have met with
frequent appreciation of the courage shown by Indians
of almost all races, excepting the effeminate Bengalese,
who seem to have been credited only with that passive
quality which some people call fortitude, and others
an apathetic submission to the inevitable. My native
neighbours, as far as my experience went, showed
certainly no want of active courage, and many of them
had courage of the coolest and truest type. This was
especially evinced out shooting, and could be supported
by numerous instances that came within my own obser-
vation. There were, of course, occasional cowards, as
there are everywhere, but, as a rule, the people rather
erred on the side of boldness. The boys, or rather lads
of sixteen or seventeen, who were not aware of the
danger, were generally the boldest; those of middle age
were most cautious; and, almost as rash as the youngest,
came the old men. In fact, you might make sure that if
the people were led into an unnecessarily dangerous situ-
ation, some old man was certain to be at the head of
them. I imagine this arises from some weakness being
developed in the systems of old men, which makes them
desirous of showing off. But, however this may be,
these old men were often excessively troublesome,
especially in leading the way into, perhaps, a thick
jungly ravine on the tracks of a wounded tiger. As
an instance of courage, and of a sense of honour, I may
mention the following incident. I was out shooting
one evening on the side of a mountain which was close
WOL. I. K
I 30 AVA TVVE CAE/AAA CZTEA’.
to a house, from which the people could see what was
going on. I took only one man, who had accompanied
me for years out shooting, and Only one gun, as we
hardly expected to see anything, except perhaps a deer
or bear. We had not, however, gone very far before
we saw a bear making his way along the mountain-side,
about two hundred yards above us. Being desirous of
backing out of sight before stalking him, we retreated
into the nearest jungly ravine, which was only a few
yards behind us. I went backwards into the jungle,
and, to our intense amusement, fell on my back down a
drop of at least five feet, which, from being covered
with underwood, I had not noticed. Rallying from
this partial discomfiture, I then went after the bear,
following him up nearly in his tracks. I wanted my
man to take time, as my wind was not good, but he
would look up. Bruin having sighted him, I was
obliged to fire, quite out of breath, and at a distance of
about fifty yards. The ball struck him, we thought.
He first of all turned to climb up the mountain, but,
changing his mind, charged right back at us. I fired
my remaining shot too soon; and, as he was still coming
on, I observed that as there was nothing in the gun, we
had better scatter. Rama Gouda looked round, but
seeing that the people from the house below had been
attracted out by the shot, he ran in between me and the
bear with my walking-stick, and held it up at Bruin as
if the stick was a spear. Whether this had an effect on
the bear it is impossible to say, but we were a few
yards off the back tracks, and he simply passed us within
a yard or two, and retreated along the very path he had
been traversing. But, whatever might have been the
intentions of the bear, this did not lessen the pluck of a
º dºlaev （HCI \CIO IL CI W ºſv！!!！!Z NIĄ W
ſuae aerºsioong maeuſ,

A37. UCATP BEATERS. I 3 I
man running in with a stick between me and what had
every appearance of turning out to be an awkward
dilemma.
In my first chapter I had occasion to notice the
courage so often displayed by the beaters—a kind of
courage so seldom done justice to by the well-armed
European who is posted outside the jungle; and I may
here mention one of the many instances of this that I
have met with. On one occasion, when we followed up
a wounded tiger the day after he had mauled one of my
people, the tiger charged the beaters, and the man
attacked by the tiger threw his blanket into the tiger's
mouth, and saved himself by jumping on One side.
The beaters then fled out of the jungle in a panic ; but,
notwithstanding this, they, being armed with nothing
but clubs and knives, and perhaps an occasional spear,
went into the jungle in a body, and drove out the tiger,
which was forthwith shot.
A gentleman who, at the time I last saw him, had
shot upwards of fifty tigers on foot, and who, no doubt,
has shot many more since, told me that he had never
once been deserted by his gun-bearers or people. He
was a splendid shot, of course, and of the finest courage.
I have sometimes heard the natives complained of as
being wanting in courage on these occasions, and such
instances must, no doubt, have sometimes happened;
but, as a rule, where the servant scatters, it may be
pretty certainly concluded that his master is either of
doubtful nerve or a very bad shot.
It has often been observed that our Indian rulers
might make themselves the most popular in the world,
if they would only spend an infinitesimal portion of the
revenue in fireworks and ram-fights; and, from my
K 2
I 32 AVATIVE CHARACTER.
own experience in laying out trifling sums to contribute
to the gratification of my native neighbours, I feel very
well convinced that, if we do not neglect our duty, we
at least affect our interests, by failing to indulge the
people in those particulars which produce such astonish-
ing results, and which would go so far to endear the
rulers in the eyes of the ruled. Nor is it any answer
to say that these things are trifling and childish. Con-
sidered in the “aibstract,” as our Scotch people would
say, they may, no doubt, be so; but our business is, or
at least ought to be, to rule well, and to be loved well.
The former, I am of opinion, ought always in India to
include the latter; and, if that is admitted, it is plain we
do not rule well when we neglect our fireworks. In
truth, I had no idea of the effect of fireworks till I
gave a Christmas dinner once to my brother planters,
and till my butler persuaded me, in honour of the
occasion, to lay out ten shillings in fireworks, which
were to be let off at the close of the entertainment. I
suppose my butler must have apprised the neighbouring
farmers of what was going to take place, for, to my
astonishment, they assembled in considerable numbers,
and enjoyed the ten shillings' worth of fireworks to their
hearts' content. The fireworks, I must say, were of
themselves poor affairs; but what they wanted in
brilliancy they made up in smoke, which soon filled
the verandah, and penetrated into the dining-room in
such volumes, that I was insensibly reminded of what
must often have occurred when three-deckers were
engaged at close quarters in the days of Nelson. But,
if such a sensation was produced in the minds of the
Indians for ten shillings, the reader can only be left
to imagine the result produced by my once hiring a
AVA 7/VA' 7"HEAZTA’/CA/LS. I 33
whole troupe of theatrico-gymnastic performers who
once turned up in our part of the country. This troupe
undertook (and, to do them justice, they amply fulfilled
their engagement) to go through the whole of their
performances for two pounds, and for this sum they
provided amusement for at least a thousand persons,
from nine in the morning till about four in the after-
noon. I had the spectators seated in my verandah
counted, and they amounted to three hundred and fifty,
while there were great numbers behind the performers,
and many, to get a better view, climbed up and hung
about amongst the branches of the trees near my house.
Such a return for a couple of pounds I never had before,
and don’t suppose I shall ever have again. The satisfac-
tion of the people was boundless, and I confess I was not
a little pleased at thinking I had made so many people
happy for nearly a whole day. The performers com-
menced with gymnastics; they then took to clothing
themselves with the skins of animals, and made them-
selves into bears, monkeys, and tigers. Thirdly, they
fell upon the whole Hindoo mythology, which they
proceeded to personify and take off from one end to the
other. But nothing delighted the audience so much as
the ridicule thrown on the holiest of holy men—the
Brahminical ascetic, whose whole business ought to
have been to mortify every passion, and inflict every
possible hardship on his earthly lodging. The ascetic
is introduced in the purest and most self-denying form;
but he eventually extends his affections, and finally falls
a victim to the allurements of a charming young Hindoo
lady, who has made it her endeavour to seduce the holy
man. Then there were little special pieces, taking off
incidents in every-day life, the chaffering and bargaining
I 34. AWA 7'ſ VE CA/ARACTER.
in the market, and the competition between one mer-
chant and another. Then a peon (a policeman) insists
upon being shaved for nothing by the village barber,
who reluctantly consents, and ultimately, to the delight
of the audience, revenges himself by shaving the peon
as awkwardly as possible, and thrusting the handle of
the razor into his mouth. But I need not weary the
reader with further details of the numerous and varying
scenes with which this vagrant troupe delighted my
native neighbours the livelong day, for enough has
now been said to show how easily and cheaply a man
may gratify the natives about him ; and I think that I
need not waste further words in urging the advisability
(for his own interests, if for no other) of an Indian
settler laying out a few rupees in these innocent amuse-
ments. I may mention that I sent out to my estates
a magic lantern, which has added not a little to the
gratification of the neighbouring farmers. These little
things are trifles; but it is just a number of such trifles
as these which make the difference between popularity
and indifference, and I therefore make no apology for
alluding to them. Another, and I think the very
cheapest way of making yourself agreeable, is, if you
happen to be present at a feast, to lay out a few rupees
in areca-nuts, pepper leaves, and lime, a conjunction
of which, being put into the mouth, enables a man to
chew betel, which seems to be the most usual and
popular form of narcotic indulgence. Where farmers
come up to speak to you, to hear the news, to tell you
what game has been heard of, or shot near their village,
a chew of betel will send them away, at once pleased
and gratified with your attention. -
While thus indicating a few of the adjuncts which
THE WAP 7'O BE POPULAR. I 35
help to make a man popular with his neighbours, it
must not be supposed that popularity can thus be so
easily and cheaply purchased. Your fireworks, and
theatricals, and magic lantern will help, no doubt; but
if these are all you have to depend on, they will not
go very far. It is the every-day manner and every-
day greeting that mainly tell in the long run; and it
is with a true knowledge of human nature that Addison
makes Sir Roger de Coverley say good day to every one
he passes, and that he attributes the good knight's
popularity to that habit more than to anything else.
To make yourself popular with your native neighbours,
it is not at all necessary to throw your money about in
the way Englishmen are so fond of doing. On the
contrary, I can imagine no way more likely to produce
a degrading effect on the neighbouring farmers. To
the people who went out shooting with me I don’t
think I ever gave a shilling, except once, and then I
gave a rupee, to make up a tiger reward to a round
sum of thirty-six rupees, which was to be divided
amongst the twelve men who constituted the entire
party. On wet days in the monsoon I have often
given brandy, arrack, and cigars, and at other times,
and to occasional individuals, a little gunpowder; but I
never followed the English vice of scattering money
about in all directions, and from my own experience I
would decidedly advise gifts in any other conceivable
shape. But, as I have hinted before, it is the kindly
tone and manner, the inquiry as to a man's family, the
trifling dose of fever medicine to a sick child, and the
careful return of Salaams, that form the base of cor-
diality with the natives, as they do with people all over
the World.
I 36 AVATIVE CA/ARACTER.
Concerning the hospitality of my neighbours I have
little to say, except that the people in that respect were
very much the same as people in this country. I knew
the character of the farmers off by heart: some were
moderately hospitable, others excessively so, and others
were screws and misers.
As to the subject of gambling, I may imitate the
gentleman who drew up the Annual Report for
Mysore for 1860-61, and who, under a tremendous
heading of “Marine,” simply wrote, “There are no
navigable rivers in Mysore, nor has the province any
seaboard.”
The missionaries in Mysore have collected a great
number of Canarese sayings and proverbs, but the
farmers in my neigbourhood seldom made use of pro-
verbs; and there is only one saying that I at all
remember to have been in frequent use, and it had
reference to getting to the greatest possible distance
from your wife's relations. The saying only consisted of
four words, but I cannot translate it more shortly than
thus:—“I don’t like a wife out of the same village, any
more than I like a sore in my shin.”
I now come to a feature in the character of my farm-
ing neighbours which seems to me especially worthy of
notice, as being so much at variance with the ordinary
agricultural mind. That, we are ordinarily taught, is of
the earth earthy; and we know as a positive fact that
the ambition of the old type of English farmer extends
no further than the ploughing of land, the selling of
grain and stock, and the placing of the profits (if there
are any) to breed in the county bank. Now, your
Munzerabad farmer's ambition is, the moment he has
got some money, to trade with it; to buy coffee, or rice,
JºAV7'ERAER/SIWG FARMERS. 137
or whatever there is to buy, and to take it down to the
sea-coast for sale, and to bring back return loads of salt,
or whatever will pay best. If he has bullocks of his
own, he packs his goods on them; and if he has no cattle,
or not enough, he hires carts and puts his goods in them.
When I went first amongst these people there was very
little of this, because they had no money, or too little to
trade with, and the traffic of the country was carried
on by the merchants; but the moment that the price of
grain rose, and that coffee came to be more largely culti-
wated, the farmers at Once took to trade, and so success-
fully, that the merchants complained that their business
was almost gone. The tail-end of the crop, the berries
that won’t ripen, and that are picked off the ground, I
find it advantageous to sell on the spot; and the buyers
of this are not the merchants, but the farmers, whose
whole efforts, when I first went amongst them, were to
plough the ground, and live on the fruits thereof. Now,
to many of my readers this alteration may seem a very
trifling matter; but the fact that this alteration occurred
quite suddenly seems to me to argue a natural spirit of
adaptability and enterprise, which it would be difficult
to find a parallel to in any agricultural race in the world.
And I think this the more particularly worthy of notice,
because it has been the fashion to represent the Indians
as a people so wedded to their old ways and customs,
that even railways and steam-engines can hardly create
enough mental friction to produce amongst them an
appreciable alteration. The people who account for the
natives failing to adopt new customs or new methods of
agriculture, by assuming that everything in the shape of
improvement is doomed to be met with the answer that
“we mean to do as Our fathers did before us ;” the
138 NATIVE CHARACTER.
people who choose to assume that such notions bar the
way to projects that will pay, may now, from what
has been said, see some reason to doubt whether the
natives may not have been perfectly right in reject-
ing those proposals which have emanated from a
sincere, though mistaken, hope of accelerating their
progress.” -
Of minor points of native character there are two in
particular which naturally excite the surprise of English-
men in general: I mean the strong powers of vis inertiae
displayed by natives, and the difficulty of exciting in
them any appearance of wonder or surprise. The first
is, I admit, very catching, and I was surprised to find
the principle appearing in myself before I had been
more than two years alone with the farmers of Mun-
zerabad. As an instance of the kind of thing I am
alluding to, I may mention the following incident. One
day, as I was seated amongst the fellers of a forest
I was at that time clearing, a tree, from being somewhat
bent and rather hollow, unexpectedly crashed down,
and fell on the man who was cutting the lower side of
it. The two men who had been cutting the upper side
of the tree thereupon rested their axes on the stump, and
one said to the other, “You pick him up,” upon which
the other replied, “You pick him up,” and I, looking
up from a paper of Addison's which I was perusing at
the time, said, “Why don’t both of you pick him up?”
The end of this was, that before any of the speakers in
this dialogue moved hand or foot, a friend of the fallen
man came forward and dragged him out. By an extra-
* I have alluded to this subject before ; but I shall make no apology for
reverting to it several times in the course of this book, as drilling out notions
is far more difficult than drilling them in.
VZS WAVERT/AC. I 39
ordinary piece of luck, the tree happened to have a deep
bend in it exactly where it fell on the man, who con-
sequently was not injured, but only half stunned by
the blow. I am afraid this was very much the way
with the Orissa famine, which was a case of “you pick
him up, and why don’t you pick him up, and why don’t
both of you pick him up.” And I may observe, further,
that, as regards the principle of vis inertiae, all sorts of
things that ought to be put down to it alone are traced
to all manner of causes. All that apathy to the difficul-
ties and wants of others, for instance, which people com-
monly assign to caste, has nothing to do with caste
whatever, and that institution is simply made the scape-
goat, or at least the excuse, for saving oneself trouble.
Why don’t you do this, and why don’t you do that?
It's against my caste, is the common excuse. Why
don’t you help this man, and why don’t you help that
man P And caste again comes in as the invariable
excuse. I once saw a friend of mine in India about
to sit down on a bench from which projected a nail,
and I was inclined to mention that this projection
might interfere with his comfort; but he hesitated as
to whether he should sit down or not, and being
impelled by vis inertiae to abstain from making my
statement unnecessarily, I hesitated. In the meantime
he sat down, and soon rose up, with an expression which
seemed to indicate that the nail had produced unpleasant
consequences, upon which I observed, “I saw you
would probably sit down on that nail.” My friend then
asked me, why in the name of heaven did I not tell him?
Well, the thing was simply climate, which produces
vis inertiae, and that was the explanation. Not long
ago, when I was riding along a road in Scotland, I saw
I40 - AVA TIVE CAAAACTER.
a mackintosh coat which had evidently been dropped.
Thinking that some horse might shy at it, I got off
with the view of putting it on one side of the road.
It next occurred to me that the coat might belong to
some poor man, who would be glad to have it back
again, and I accordingly carried it on to the black-
Smith's shop, and told the blacksmith to fix a notice
on the Smithy door as to the finding of the coat. As
I went along with the coat, I could not help ruminating
on the causes that induced me to trouble myself about
the coat at all, and wondered not a little at my taking
an amount of trouble that a year or two ago, when in
India, never could, I should think, have been displayed
by me, or indeed any Anglo-Indian. But the whole
thing was the result of climate. It was climate that
caused me to let my friend sit down on a nail; and it
was climate again which led me to concern myself about
the coat of an unknown individual. What I have just
been saying shows conclusively the connection between
climate and active morality. I was, as far as I could
see, much the same man (neither better nor worse, I
believe, in my own eyes, nor in the eyes of my neigh-
bours) when I failed to exert myself in the case of the
man upon whom the tree had fallen, as I was when I
exerted myself as regards the mackintosh coat. But in
the first instance, from living in a malarious climate, and
from having suffered from fever, my blood corpuscles
had, no doubt, fallen from the normal standard of 141-1
to, perhaps, as low as 123:538, the highest Bengalee
standard recorded by Dr. Bird; * or, in other words, I
had become fishy as to constitution. In the second
instance, a residence in England had given me back
• Vide Dr. Bird’s “Physiological Essays,” pp. 80, 81.
C LIMA 7'E AFFECTS ACTIVE MORAL/7"P. I4 I
a good supply of red corpuscles, and the active virtues,
which had evidently become deadened, rose to their
normal level. When Johnson, then, said that “all sick
men are rascals,” he simply expressed, with some
exaggeration of course, the well-known fact that men
who are sick, having a deficiency of red blood corpuscles,
are not capable of the same amount of active morality
as people who are well. To be angry, therefore, with a
Bengalee, who, from all accounts, may be reckoned as
the most inferior as regards active virtues, is like being
angry with a man for not fighting with a stick as effec-
tively as another man can with a sword. This subject
of the analysis of the blood is extremely interesting and
instructive, and one to which great attention will, no
doubt, one day be paid, when giving an account of the
various peoples of India. Hitherto it has been thought
sufficient to weigh and measure people, and take casts of
the head, and this, of course, is very well as far as it
goes; but, to complete our information, I am persuaded
that an analysis of the blood is absolutely necessary.
I regret that I have no space to enter into further
particulars on this subject, but the reader will find in
Dr. Bird's work a full account of what I have but barely
glanced at here.
Another point worthy of notice is the difficulty you
experience in getting natives to show anything like an
appearance of Surprise; and of the numerous instances of
this well-known feature in native character I need not
give more than one illustration. When I once went to
Bangalore, I took with me my native clerk (the son of a
poor farmer in the open country), with a view of giving
him a treat and showing him the world. I took him,
on arrival, to the railway station, where there happened
I42 AVA TVVE CAAAA CTEA’.
to be a train just about to start. After surveying the
carriages, I took him to the engine, and told him that
this was the machine on which everything depended.
“Is it indeed?” he said, and, to my amusement, quietly
rested one of his bare feet on the sort of ledge that runs
round the side of the boiler. It is very interesting to
take a man thus from the jungle, and observe the
effect produced on him by new things, and to hear his
remarks. In one respect this man certainly imitated
John Bull abroad. He used always, being the principal
native on my estates, to be neatly and sometimes richly
dressed, and I was rather annoyed to find that he turned
up most shabbily attired for his travels. I could not
help observing this to him, when he at once gave the
English answer, that it was no matter, for nobody knew
him when he was away from home. This clerk of mine,
whom I took from the Hassan school when he was a
mere lad, served me for more than ten years, and died
in my service. He was equally a favourite with me
and with my late manager, and had such an uncommonly
shrewd head on his shoulders, that we always liked to
hear his opinion. He spoke English, not to a very great
extent, but with accuracy and force, and when I first
started life he gave me many hints as regards the Way of
treating my native neighbours which I found of value.
“Sir,” said the oracle, “with the near you must be far,
and with the far, near ’’—a hint worth remembering,
and which meant that you should be rather distant
with those you see constantly, and rather familiar with
those you see seldom.
When I left England I was not eighteen, and, from
being consequently somewhat boyish when I first started
life, I once played some trick on the oracle, who was
VAA'ZO US AAWAEC/DOTES. I 4-3
walking in front of me. The oracle turned round and
said, “Sir, it is not proper to play with servants.” He
then walked on without giving me time for any answer,
which on reflection I thought it as well to abstain from
making. On another occasion, when I was travelling
in the plains of Mysore, and there was difficulty in some
village in getting supplies, T overheard the Oracle telling
one of the natives that I was a relation of the Superin-
tendent. I afterwards taxed him with this, and asked
him what he meant by telling such falsehoods, upon
which he said, “Sir, you can’t get on in this country
without telling lies; I don’t tell lies to you.” And, to
do him justice, in all the years we had to do with him,
neither I nor my late manager, who had four years'
daily experience of him, ever found that we were
deceived by him in any way. On one occasion I re-
collect asking what was done with a man who came to
me with some horrid cutaneous complaint. The Oracle
looked at the man with some disgust, and then said, “I
think it is better to take some poison and to die than
live like that.” The only thing I ever heard, even
remotely connected with mutinies, was when the oracle
was once on leave at his village, or rather town, which
lay some thirty miles in the interior of Mysore. In the
town were a good many Mussulmans, and a lad of that
caste called out to the Oracle, and said that the time was
soon coming when they would be able to do what they
liked, and then the Hindoo people would get the worst
of it. The Oracle, who at that time was a stout, strong
lad of fifteen, at once grappled with the Mahomedan,
and they were both in consequence arrested and taken
before the amildar, who dismissed them on account of
their youth. When I first employed the oracle, he got
I 44. AWATWWE CHARACTER.
only 128. a month, and he had to feed and clothe himself
out of that. I found him a most valuable man, and he
eventually got £3 a month. He would do anything,
from keeping the Canarese correspondence of the
estate, and the English accounts, to superintending the
coolies and driving a cart. And I am the more par-
ticular in mentioning this, because it will show English-
men that if they will only take their native clerks and
overseers from the agricultural classes, instead of from
the Brahminical or other castes, they can get men of
physical strength and stamina, who, if well treated and
well paid, will turn their hand to anything. Another
thing is, that though much slower and not half so quick-
witted as the Brahmins and classes accustomed to
sedentary pursuits, the farmers are far more shrewd-
headed, and have far more of the principle which we
generally call common sense. And this is a fact that I
have heard natives themselves assert.
There is one point more that I think worth mentioning,
and that is the good feeling shown by these farmers in
trifling matters. Sometimes this used to evince itself
in a way that made me pleased, and yet half angry.
When I have been excessively fatigued, partly from
ill-health, and partly from the steepness of the precipi-
tous mountains of the Western Ghauts, I have actually
caught my gun-carrier and general shooting attendant
making conversation, and pointing out this and that,
with evidently no other purpose than that of distracting
my attention, or, in other words, talking to cheer me up,
and to prevent my feeling the fatigue so much. The
intention of this was no doubt good, but, to our ideas, it
was treating one rather like a child. -
Some Englishmen—in fact, I may say most English-
ODDS AAWD EAWDS. 14s
men—cannot bear being stared at and watched; but in
remote parts of the country few natives have ever seen
an Englishman, or, if they have, it has only been for a
moment, and it is therefore not to be wondered at if
they watch the white man’s motions with much the same
interest that people in this country would observe the
man in the moon, were that individual to think of
visiting this earth. An engineer, who stopped at my
house on his way from visiting a ghaut road in a remote
part of the country, told me that he had been, during his
inspection, followed about by one man in particular for
a whole day. At last the engineer asked the native why
he watched him so attentively. The Indian replied that
he hadn't seen an Englishman for twenty years, and that
he didn't know when he might see one again. I recollect,
when sitting in the verandah of my house one day,
calling for water to drink three times at short intervals,
and a native (a Brahmin, if I recollect rightly) at once
wanted to know whether that had anything to do with
religion. I confess that I myself had no objection to
being made the subject of this innocent curiosity, and I
think that young settlers who would wish to be on good
terms with their neighbours should not resent being
stared at a little.
It is sometimes amusing to hear the native solution of
a state of things for which no parallel exists in the rural
districts of India. They cannot imagine a man existing
without land of some sort, and a house of his own as
a matter of course. They asked me what I did when I
went to my village. I said that I went to my father,
who was a landowner. They then wanted to know if
every one did the same, upon which I told them that
every one could not, for there were many of my country-
WOL. I. - L
146 AVA 7'IVE CAAFACTER.
men whose fathers had neither land nor houses of their
own. Here was a dilemma, till one of the questioners
said, “Then I suppose those who have neither lands nor
houses must do as the gypsies do, and pitch their tents
wherever they can find plenty of wood and water.”
By this time I think that I must have thoroughly
exhausted both my native neighbours and the patience
of the reader; but, before closing this chapter, it may be
useful to recapitulate at least a portion of the ground we
have gone over.
The first point we considered in this chapter was that
of gratitude, or rather, the alleged want of it; and,
from the facts adduced, we came to the conclusion that
people are often led erroneously to infer want of feeling
where there exists no word exactly similar to our word
thanks, and that the feeling of gratitude may often
exist without any verbal expression whatever. It was
then pointed out that gratitude for saving life did not
exist, because life was not much valued, but that where
the saving of life involved much trouble, people were
grateful accordingly ; and, generally, we came to the
conclusion that, judging from the practical returns for
favours received, the natives of Munzerabad were by
no means deficient in gratitude. Turning next to the
subject of veracity, we endeavoured to show that it was
important, in the first place, not to mistake the language
of compliments for the language of lies. We then, and
entirely with reference to the lower classes, came to
the conclusion that, for the most part, the lies that were
told were told largely from fear, and that they varied in
amount in accordance with the character of the English-
man—increasing if he was unreasonable and violent, and
sinking to a minimum if he was humane and reasonable.
SUMMARP. I47
It was then shown that, in the opinion of a person well able
to judge, a humane man need be told no more lies by the
native labourers of Munzerabad than by the labourers
in Scotland; but at the same time it was pointed out
that the Indian labourers were not therefore as truthful
as the Scotch, seeing that the former would lie with-
out scruple to severe masters, while the latter would
be uninfluenced by fear, and supported by moral and
religious training. Some remarks were then made as
regards the doubtful and difficult subject of being able
to estimate the truthfulness of the lower classes in this
country; and generally, under the head of Veracity, the
conclusion that we arrived at, in comparing the Scotch
and Munzerabad labourers, was, that the Indian labourer,
where he was not influenced by fear, would not tell
more lies than labourers elsewhere. We then took into
consideration the general character of the farmers of
Munzerabad as regards honesty, faithfulness in keeping
their engagements, and general truthfulness, and, from
the instances given, we concluded that their character
in these respects was excellent, and that they practised
honesty, and appreciated it highly in others. After
that we looked at the way they treat their dying rela-
tives, and the matter-of-fact, and apparently unfeeling,
way they took the deaths of their friends and rela-
tions; and, comparing them with the Scotch of the olden
generation, we saw that observers may often be deceived
by habits of expression and the way of looking at
things, and that there is no more reason to assert that
the Indians are hard-hearted than there would be for
asserting that the Scotch were, because they looked at
death in a more matter-of-fact way than the English.
And, having taken the way of looking at things into
L 2
148 WATIVE CHARACTER.
consideration, we came to the conclusion, from a variety
of signs too numerous for detail, that the Indians felt
the death of those near and dear to them much as
we do. We then looked at the way they take matters
of life and death in two other respects—hanging and
murder. In considering their character as regards the
domestic relations of life, we saw that the farmers'
wives were very well treated, that they had none of the
hard work to do, and that they could succeed to pro-
perty, and enjoyed, in many respects, as many advan-
tages as Englishwomen. We also observed that the
position of a Hindoo widow with a family was an
honourable one; that she was treated with deference by
her children; and it was further shown that some of the
families that had turned out best were entirely brought
up by women. The general treatment of children, it
was also seen, showed the native character in as amiable
a light as it has generally been seen in other parts of
India. We then glanced at the political sentiments of
the natives, which we found to consist in a unanimous
desire to be let alone. Turning our attention subse-
quently to the manners of the people, we noticed their
habit of never appearing to be disturbed; their habit of
always employing a go-between to state their cases or
prefer their complaints, and the results that arose from
this habit, as shown in a desire to interfere and offer
opinions on matters with which they had personally
nothing to do; and the advisability of yielding to this
peculiarity was pointed out. We then remarked on the
alleged deficiencies of memory amongst the natives, and
gave several instances which seemed to contradict that
notion. We also noticed their courage and sense of
honour, and saw reason to think that they were any-
G EAVERAL COMWCA, USIOWS. I49
thing but deficient in the former quality, and had at
least somewhat of the latter. We observed, further, that
the natives being easily pleased with cheap and inex-
pensive exhibitions, it was advisable to gratify them in
these respects, but that those means of insuring popu-
larity were only to be considered as adjuncts to that
uniform kindness and consideration which alone can
insure their liking and respect. As regards their hospi-
tality, we only noticed that there seemed the same pro-
portion of liberal and stingy people as amongst ourselves.
We then noticed that the farmers of Munzerabad at once
betook themselves to trade the moment they had made
a little money, and that this constituted a striking
difference between them and the farmers of the old
English type, and betokened an adaptability and readi-
ness to adopt new methods which show that the rigid
adherence to custom, which writers are so fond of
attributing to the Hindoos, is not necessarily one of the
prevailing features in the character of the people. The
vis inertiae of the natives, in some respects, was then
commented on ; the difficulty of exciting in them
an appearance of Surprise, and other points, which it
is unnecessary to recapitulate, were mentioned; and
the remarks on native character thus brought to a
conclusion.
I have now given the reader a minute, and, I hope,
accurate account of native character in the private rela-
tions of life. I have shown how the farmers of Mun-
Zerabad appeared to me as neighbours, and how the
lower classes appeared to me in the relation of master
and servant. But the reader will naturally observe that
I have said nothing as regards the moral character of
the population in other respects—as to morality in
I 50 AVA 77 VE CAAFACTER.
regard to the connection of the sexes, and as to the
use and results of intoxicating drinks. These particulars,
however, I have thought fit to reserve for my chapter
on Caste, where, in consequence of the moral influence
of that institution, they may, I conceive, be more con-
veniently introduced.
CHAPTER IV.
NATIVE CHARACTER.—CURRENT AND WEITTEN OPINIONS.
IF we know little of our own motives, what do we
know of the motives of others? If we find it difficult
to form a just estimate of our fellow-countrymen, how
difficult must it be to sum up the character of the Euro-
pean races ! If we find it difficult to estimate rightly
members of the same family of nations, and in civilisa-
tion akin to us, what must be our difficulties in judging
those Asiatic races which, as regards manners, customs,
and civilisation, differ so widely from the European
Took for one moment at these difficulties. Consider
how chance may influence our opinions by throwing
favourable or unfavourable specimens of the human
animal in our way. Consider how much is owing to
our discrimination as to character, and how much to the
standard of comparison we happen to have set up in our
own minds; how much is due to our own personal
character; how much to prosperity, which may tend
to make one inclined to take lenient and charitable
views; how much to adversity, which may induce
disgust; how much even to the state of one's general
health; how much to the situation in which one may
have been thrown as regards the people; or, in other
words, to one's opportunities of observation. And if
I 52 AWA TIVE CAAAAC 7'ER.
these are only a few of the multitude of considerations
which may bias the judgment, how seriously should we
reflect before pronouncing opinions on an Asiatic raceſ
How seriously should we consider of the harm that may
be done in prejudicing Englishmen against the races
they have undertaken to govern l Nor should we con-
sider this the less seriously because, individually speak-
ing, the additions we may make to the pile of rubbish
that has been written about the Hindoos can exercise
but a trifling influence. The insects that form the coral
rocks are but small, and yet the coral rocks creep out
into the sea, and on them are wrecked mighty ships.
Now, in India and out of India, we have had a number
of insects at work, who have laboriously built up an
opinion as to Indians; and though, unlike the coral
rock, it has no solid foundation, the harm done has
been only too real, and its natural tendency is to widen
still further that breach which separates so widely the
white and dark races. The opinions of those evil-work-
ing insects have, it is true, been opposed by men of
enlarged information and enlightened minds; but
IEnglishmen living in a hated and uncongenial clime
drink in but too eagerly all that can be said against
the people who inhabit it, and thus it is that the evil
spirits have overcome the good, and have handed on
a tradition which time seems only to strengthen, and
of which we meet with instances wherever we turn—
in the older writers, as Mill and Buchanan—in the
petty publications of the day, but more especially in
the current talk of Anglo-Indian society. Now, there
is seldom smoke without fire, and if the damners of
Indians have been wrong in their conclusions, not the
less wrong have been their unqualified supporters, and
GENERAL REMARKS. I 53
never did the case of “save me from my friends” more
truly apply; for if there are Europeans and Europeans,
not the less are there Indians and Indians. If there are
Englishmen and Englishmen, not the less are there
Mysoreans and Mysoreans. But well, indeed, may any
one shrink from the difficult task of trying to tear up
those traditional notions which are so firmly rooted in
the minds of our countrymen. I feel persuaded, how-
ever, that a time is at hand when the vague and
unmapped continent now existing in the minds of most
Englishmen will be clearly marked out ; when race
will be clearly distinguished from race; when allow-
ances will be made for effects that have been produced
by oppression; when the people of the country will be
distinguished from the scum of our cantonments; when
the Hindoo character, in its relations with the State,
and with reference to the relations of private life, will
be clearly understood ; and when, in short, altered and
impartial ideas will gradually change our opinions of
natives, and so aid to insure the security of our Indian
Empire. w
Little, indeed, dare I hope to effect by publishing my
opinions and the results of my experience. The last
may be insufficient, and the first wrong; but, right or
Wrong, the reader may rest assured that my conclusions
are the real result of my experience, and that they are
entirely unbiassed by prejudices of any sort, or by the
opinions of others. In the previous chapter I have given
the reader my experience as to the private character of
the natives amongst whom Ilived; Inow think it may not
be altogether uninteresting if we take some account of
the published opinions of various writers as regards the
Indians in general, and glance as well at those opinions
I 54. AVATIVE CAAFAC 7'ER.
which are now current in Anglo-Indian society. I shall
accordingly devote the remainder of this chapter first of
all to the published experience of our countrymen, and
of two of the foreign writers on India; and, secondly,
I shall briefly allude to the current feelings as shown in
Anglo-Indian society. -
In considering the opinions of our countrymen as
regards the natives of India, and theirs as regards us,
we shall find an exact counterpart of what always occurs
where a mutual dislike prevails between two peoples,
and where imagination is left to supply the place of that
precise information which can only be obtained by long
and intimate intercourse. The most striking illustra-
tion of this we ever had in Europe consisted in the
opinions once current in France as regards the English,
and the opinions of the English as regards the French.
In our days it is amazing to read that we should ever
have thought the French to be a nation of poor, wooden-
shod, frog-eating, atheistical slaves, any ten of whom a
stout Englishman could dispose of with ease. Equally
amazing is it to think it possible that, long after we had
made considerable progress in science and literature, the
French should have held us to be a horde of ignorant
barbarians, dwelling in a villainous climate, and enve-
loped in such a gloomy despondency that suicide was
often resorted to as the only possible relief. Numerous
illustrations might be added as regards other nations in
support of the general principle I have started with ;
but I need not trouble the reader with enumerating
instances which must readily occur to the most ordinary
reader, and shall, therefore, assume that, as regards a
country so distant as India, the misrepresentations have
naturally exceeded all that one nation has ever asserted
EAWG LISH OPINIONS. I 55
of another. I anticipate that it will be objected that our
position in India is not an absolutely correct parallel,
and I am aware that it is not; but if there is a differ-
ence, it is only one which exaggerates the general
result; for, were this not so, we should not be able to
point to opinions which tend to degrade the English and
Indians in each other's eyes. We should not be able to
show that we look upon them as a treacherous, lying
race, while they look upon us as a people addicted to
every vice, and that they, till within very recent times
at least, considered that we had not even the semblance
of a religion. While thus, however, alluding cursorily
to what natives think and have thought of us, I must
not forget that at present I am concerned rather with
what we think of them than they of us, and I therefore
at once proceed to review at least a portion of those
opinions, and of that general experience which has been
published by our countrymen, and by several of those
whom we term foreigners.
Of all the books I have read upon India, I have
found none that has taken my fancy so much as a little
work that was published in London in the year 1711,
and which consists of translations from the letters of
two Danish missionaries, “lately sent to the East Indies
for the conversion of the heathens in Malabar.” In
short, there is such an air of earnestness and simplicity
about these worthy men, and the general feeling evinced
in their letters presents such a contrast to the arrogant
tone of many of our missionaries, that I cannot resist
departing a little from my original intention, merely to
give the reader a notion of the interesting record of the
experience of the first missionaries. -
It was on the 29th of November, 1705, that Bartho-
156 AWATWWE CHARACTER.
lomew Ziegenbalgh and Henry Plutscho “embarked with
great joy in a ship called the Princess Sophia Hedwigh,
and attended with many hearty wishes, cheerfully went
on board, hoping that the presence of God would go
before, and lovingly incline the hearts of that barbarous
people, whom they were going to visit, with the wel-
come tidings of salvation.” On the day after they set
sail, and arrived the night following at Helsingoehr.
“Here,” observed the missionaries, “a mariner of our
ship, tumbling down from the mainmast, miserably
broke his neck, to our great surprise; and another,
falling into the sea, was narrowly caught by the hair of
the head, and saved from drowning.” After lingering on
the coast for nearly a fortnight, they sailed again, and
came into the North Sea, where they both fell sea-sick,
but, by the help of God, recovered. On the 16th they
buried a boy dead of the small-pox. They took their
course to the north, and so sailed round, leaving Eng-
land and Ireland on the left, and on the 21st entered
the Spanish seas, where towering billows received them
very stoutly, the ship seeming as if it were carried
through a deep vale betwixt two lofty mountains. To
many this might have seemed disheartening; but our
worthy missionaries looked upon things in a very dif-
ferent light. “The sight,” they say, “we had of the
marvellous works of God did not a little cheer up our
spirits. And the more the storms and roarings of the
seas brake in upon us, the more increased the joy and
praise of God in our mouths.” On the 9th of February,
1706, they passed the line very successfully; but, after
that, had a contrary wind for eight weeks, and were
driven quite upon the coast of America. At length,
and on the 23rd of April, they reached the Cape, where
EXPERIEWC ES OF DAAWISH MISSIONARIES. 157
they wrote their first letter to their friends in Europe.
The good men seem to have spent their time in reading
and in pious exercises, and it is interesting to hear
them expatiating on the advantages of their hazardous
journey, and how “this very voyage has been hitherto
an experimental school, wherein we are not so much
taught the bare letter of Divinity, as the lively and
practical sense of the inward power and Sweetness
thereof.” They seemed disappointed at finding so few
Christians amongst the German Lutherans, and observed
“that every one pretended he cannot serve God so well
in these parts as in his own country; and so they think
they had rather put it quite off till they came home
again.” They seemed to form no very high opinion of
the Hottentots, but found them otherwise of a good
temper enough, and of a suitable proportion of body,
but that they stunk terribly, greasing themselves daily
with fat. They did ample justice, though, to the good
qualities of the Hottentots, and soon discovered they
were very kind to one another, and so communicative in
their love, that “if one has something that is good, he
shareth it among all the rest.” These savages are also
described as being very faithful in things committed to
their care, and what good qualities they had were care-
fully enumerated.
On the 8th of May the good men set out from the
Cape of Good Hope, in Africa, and soon fell in with such
a violent storm that the upper part of the mainmast
was split into three pieces, and in the cabin everything
was broken with prodigious violence. In due course
they touched very near the island of Ceylon, and in
calm weather could spy the elephants walking on the
shore. At length they reached Tranquebar, on the
158 MA 7'YVE CAAAAC 7'EA’.
coast of Coromandel, and their first letter from there,
which must have been written shortly after their arrival,
was dated July 12th, 1706.
In their third letter they give an account of the idols
of the Malabarians, and in the fourth they treat par-
ticularly of the readiness of the people in arguing, and
observe that the Malabarians, being a witty and sagacious
people, must needs be managed with a great deal of care
and circumspection. Their schoolmaster, being a man
of threescore years and ten, argued daily with them,
and required good reasons and arguments for everything.
“We hope,” they wrote, “to bring him over to Chris-
tian knowledge; but he is confident as yet that, one time
or another, we shall all turn Malabarians, and, in this
hope, he takes all the pains imaginable to render things
as plain and easy to us as possible.”
In their fifth letter they observe that the chief reason
of aversion to Christianity is the scandalous and cor-
rupted life of the Christians, and assert that the Mala-
barians look upon the Christians as the very dregs of
this world, and the general bane of mankind. The
Malabarians, they wrote, acknowledged that there was
but one God, and all other gods were but servants or
attendants, but think that no reason for believing that
the Christian religion is the only true one; and the
people, it seems, had also the boldness to declare that
any one who has but led an honest life in this world, let
him be otherwise what he will, shall, after death, receive
a good reward. In this letter they also mention a pro-
posal to test by fire the respective merits of the Mala-
barian and Christian Scripture. If the Christian books
did not take fire, then the Malabarians would turn Chris-
tians; and if the reverse happened, it was proposed that
LETTERS FROM MALABAR. I 59
the Christians should turn Malabarians. If both were
burnt, the question would remain undecided. (A moolah
at Akbar's court, it may be mentioned, proposed a
personal test of the same nature to the Roman Catholic
priest who came from Goa to convert the Emperor; and
Akbar seemed to think that the experiment of putting
a Christian and a native priest into the fire, to see if
they were both burnt alike, would be worth trying.)
In the sixth letter we have an interesting account of
the conversion of a Malabarian gentleman, who seems
to have questioned the missionaries at great length, and
with extraordinary minuteness. The good men wrote
that to give an account of all their conversations with
the Malabarian would afford matter for more than twenty
sheets of paper. Amongst the things the Indian wanted
to know were, “Whether God had not been powerful
enough in himself to receive fallen man into his favour
without sending his Son 2 Why Christ was obliged to
suffer and to die on that account? Why there had
been no Christians from the beginning of the world?
Whether God could not compel men by force into his
service? Why the number of Christians was so very
small? Why one man could not live as piously and
religiously as another? From whence so many sects
had sprung up amongst the Christians? Whether the
Christians in Europe did live as wicked lives as those in
the East Indies?” These are a few instances of the
numerous questions put. The Malabarian in question
had, it appeared, studied for five years in the Malabaric
schools, and was pretty well versed in their theology,
philosophy, and arithmetic. He knew Portuguese, in
which language the conversations were carried on, and
Soon seems to have acquired a knowledge of the High
I 60 MA 7TWE CANAAA CTEA’.
Dutch. Altogether he seems to have been a convert
well worth having; and this, the first-fruits of their
mission, must have been not a little gratifying to the
worthy men. In the same chapter it is pleasant to
read that the news of their being settled there reached
Ring Tanjour, that one of his officers paid the mis-
sionaries a visit, and offered them a safeguard of thirty
soldiers in case they should wish to see the country, and
that their visitor also offered to write to the king on
their behalf, and make way for cultivating a good
correspondence.
The seventh letter was “To a Friend without Berlin,”
and in it we again find complimentary allusions to the
wit and understanding of the Malabarians, who, how-
ever, still seemed to think that the Word of God, as
proposed by the missionaries, contained nothing but dry
and insipid notions. After censuring their extravagant
notions and scriptural stories, the missionaries added—
“However, in the midst of these exorbitant fancies and
delusions, they lead a very quiet, honest, and virtuous
life, by the mere influence of their natural abilities;
infinitely outdoing our false Christians and superficial
pretenders to a better sort of religion.”
I now come to the only indiscretion the good men
seem to have been guilty of “Yesterday,” they write,
“taking a walk into the country, we came to an idol
temple, wherein Ispard's Lady (he being one of their
first-rate gods) is worshipped. Her Ladyship was sur-
rounded with abundance of other gods, made of porcelain.
We, being deeply affected with so foppish a set of gods,
threw some down to the ground, and striking off the
heads of others, endeavoured to convince these poor
deluded people that their images were nothing but
MORE LETTERS FROM MALABAR. I 6 I
impotent and silly idols, utterly unable to protect them-
selves, and much less their worshippers. But one of
their doctors of divinity, happening to be present,
replied that ‘ they did not hold them to be gods, but
only God’s soldiers, or life-guardsmen.” At last we
convinced him so far that he was forced to own these
things to be mere fooleries; but said withal, “that the
design of them was to lead the meaner and duller sort
of people, by looking on these images, up to the con-
templation of the life to come.’” This answer, I may
remind the reader, as to the minor gods being much, as
it were, the soldiers of the great God, was almost the
same as that made to me by a native in Munzerabad,
and affords additional and interesting evidence regarding
the native appreciation of the value of the various gods
that are worshipped.
In letter nine, dated Sept. 12th, 1707, there is little of
especial interest; but it is satisfactory to learn that the
work of God ran on amain, and that the congregation of
our worthy missionaries consisted of sixty-three persons,
and that another native was to be baptized presently. It
is also pleasant to read that “heathens and Mahometans
are kind enough to us, and love to be in our company,
notwithstanding we have all along laid open to them the
vanity of their idolatrous and superstitious worship.”
In the first of the second series of letters addressed to
friends in Europe we again find the difficulties of con-
version alluded to ; and it is said that if the Christians
find one error in the doctrine of the heathens, these will
find ten in the life and conduct of the Christians. They
again allude, in a subsequent letter, to the ideas prevalent
as regards the value of idols. The natives, they say,
“pretend likewise that wise and understanding men
WOL. I. º, M
I 62 AVA 7TIVE CHARACTER.
among them perform their worship without images,
these being designed for children only, and the duller
sort of people, who know not what ideas or representa-
tions to frame of these heavenly beings.” In this vast
multitude of people, too, they never met with a single
atheist, or a man who had the boldness to contradict the
existence of a Sovereign Being and the truth of a future
life. They also notice the frequency of acts of charity
amongst the natives. We are also informed that “some
had thrown off all manner of idolatrous worship, and
that they don’t so much as come near a pagoda. These
sort of men did not own any religious party at all,”
thinking themselves raised above the common set of
religions used among the heathens.” These men, the
missionaries found, were very ready to talk of virtue and
holiness of life; but when they talked to them of Christ,
they didn’t seem to like it as well as if they had barely
talked to them of virtue, and purity of life and manner.
Letter four contains a most interesting account of the
conversion of a Malabar poet and schoolmaster, who
seems to have taken an extraordinary interest in
religious questions. He had studied all the Malabarian
and Mahomedan books he could find, and after he had
conversed with the missionaries and studied Christianity
for three years, he became finally convinced, and was
baptized in the face of all the opposition of his friends.
The pains this convert seems to have taken were very
great; and we are informed that he “penned a letter,
and directed it to all the learned in Germany, together
with six hundred and eight questions, treating upon
divinity and philosophy, wherein he wanted to have
their determination.” One of the missionaries translated
* Evidently the Brahmo Somaj school of the present time.
EAVG LISH OP/WIONS. I 63
the questions, but I can find no further allusion to them,
nor any account of an answer to them.
And now I must bid good-bye to these good and
amiable men, whose lives, indeed, it is difficult to Con-
template without feelings of envy and admiration, but
whose letters, I fear, I have quoted at unpardonable
length. But I have been induced to devote a good deal
of space to them, as what they say speaks alike Well for
the missionaries and for the natives, and forms such
a pleasing contrast to the unsparing calumnies that have
been circulated by many of our countrymen as regards
the Indians in general. Having thus taken leave of our
Danish missionaries, I shall now turn the attention of
the reader to those evil reports that have been so indus-
triously circulated regarding the people by our country-
men in India. And here it may naturally be asked,
why, in tracing that long stream of vilification which,
commencing with Holwell of the black-hole, terminates
with Sir William Denison of Madras, I should trouble
the reader with quotations from writers, many of whom
seem, in some respects at least, to be entitled to higher
rank amongst the ladies of the British fishery than they
are ever likely to obtain amongst the authors of that
nation. But in tracking the causes of opinions we must
consider that it is much easier to read than to observe;
that it is from reading, nowadays, that almost all our
opinions are formed; and that the character of the natives
as already existing in men's mouths, has been created
and maintained by authors who had little idea, perhaps,
of the harm they were doing. And if these evils can
be tracked home, and the authors within reach be as
severely animadverted upon by the public as they
deserve to be, I am in hopes that the thoughtless stream
M 2
I64. AVATIVE CA/ARACTER.
of abuse (which has mainly, I believe, been copied from
one book into another) may be arrested, and that to it
may succeed a discriminating account of the people of
India from such of our countrymen as have been mixed
up with them in all the relations of life. I shall not, of
course, transcribe all the evil reports I have read, but
shall simply quote a sufficient number of instances to
show that I have not set up a number of imaginary
nine-pins, merely for the pleasure of knocking them
down again.
To commence, then, I may mention that Holwell, in
writing in 1766, says that, excepting such of the
Brahmins who strictly pursue the tenets and spirit
of their religion, “the Gentoos, in general, are as
degenerate, crafty, superstitious, litigious, and wicked
people as any race of beings in the known world, if
not eminently more so.” And as Mill used Holwell as
one of his authorities, we need not be surprised to find
in Mill’s work a most severe and acrimonious account
of the Hindoos in general. In fact, as Mill's opinions
were formed entirely from the works of writers on India,
I may as well save myself the trouble of alluding to any
writer previous to Mill. In looking into his work we
find, indeed, a more dreadful account of the Indians than
I suppose was ever given of any people; and to his
history being unfortunately used as a text-book at
Haileybury, Shore, in his valuable “Indian Notes,”
attributes the bad opinion which most civil servants
had already formed of the natives before having set
foot in the country. Mill, indeed, seems to have
thought that the Hindoos and Mahomedans were much
alike; and amongst the torrent of vilification we find
that “the same insincerity, mendacity, and perfidy;
OWMEASURED AR USE. 165
the same indifference to the feelings of others; the
same prostitution and venality are common to both.”
But even Mill himself seems to have been entirely
eclipsed by a clergyman of the name of Massie, who, in
animadverting upon what he is pleased to call the
“eunuch-like Hindoos,” uses a collection of epithets
which really would do credit, for their variety, to any
language in the world. “The separate tribes,” says
Mr. Massie, “may be variously described as cruel,
insidious, and sensual, though cunning, ambitious,
talented, warlike; as roving, thieving, murdering, free-
booting, vindictive, Sanguinary, untamable, and haughty;
as filthy, mercenary, piratical, turbulent, bigoted, and
degraded; as ferocious, depraved, dissolute, restless,
mendicant, and avaricious.”
I said that I thought it would be unnecessary to
quote any writers previous to Mill; but as in Heyne's
Tracts I find especial reference to Mysore, I may as
well mention that he, referring to the natives of that
province, wrote, “The morality of the Mysoreans is
perfectly similar to that of all the Indians, and is low to
a degree that is almost beyond the conception of every
nation in Europe. Lying, cheating, domineering, per-
fidy, fickleness, dissembling, treachery, adultery, are so
common and familiar, that they can scarcely in India
be classed amongst those practices that are considered as
vices.” “Indolence,” he informs us, “is the greatest of
their virtues, and that can only be overcome by a thirst
for gain, by revenge, and by absolute starvation.”
Heyne Wrote seventy years ago, and it may therefore be
supposed that the stream of vilification stopped those
who wrote about this time; but as far as I have been
able to observe the tendency of a stream of opinion
I 66 MA 7TIVE CAAFACTER.
started in books (and even, as I shall show, where treat-
ing of ordinary matters of fact, as Indian agriculture)
is to go on, and even to increase in volume. In passing,
therefore, to more recent writers, we shall find the
remarks rather increasing than diminishing in severity,
and we shall find, in especial, our missionaries endorsing
those remarks with an ingenuity which is eminently
calculated to impose upon people who are little given
either to reading or reflection. Accordingly, we find,
in Arthur’s “Mission to the Mysore,” the following
opinion and reasoning. In speaking of the people,
he says, “On their matrimonial morality it is neither
necessary nor desirable to enlarge. It is such as .
might be expected from those whose sacred books are
feculent, whose divinities are patterns of license, some
of whose rites are Bacchanalian, and some of whose idols
are a shame even to mention.”* Now, without going
* Just as we may track back our ideas of Hindoo agriculture to Buchanan,
so may we track back this idea to that (as he is called by Dr. Duff) “great and
good man, Ward,” an extract from whose work I here give. I may here observe
that our missionaries seem to have fastened on the women of India with
extraordinary severity, while people of the Sir William Denison order have
fastened more particularly on the men; so between them the unfortunate Indians
have come rather badly off.
“Men are sufficiently corrupt by nature without any outward excitements to
evil in the public festivals; nor have civil nor spiritual terrors, the frowns of
God and governors united, been found sufficient to keep within restraint the
overflowings of iniquity: but what must be the moral state of that country
where the sacred festivals, and the very forms of religion, lead men to every
species of vice . These festivals and public exhibitions excite universal atten-
tion, and absorb for weeks together almost the whole of the public conversation;
and such is the enthusiasm with which they are hailed, that the whole country
seems to be thrown into a ferment; health, property, time, business, everything
is sacrificed to them. In this manner are the people prepared to receive impres-
sions from their national institutions. If these institutions were favourable to
virtue, the effects would be most happy; but as, in addition to their fascination,
they are exceedingly calculated to corrupt the mind, the most dreadful con-
sequences follow, and vice, like a mighty torrent, flows through the plains of
Bengal with the force of the flood-tide of the Ganges, carrying along with it
young and old, the learned and the ignorant, rich and poor, all castes and descrip-
tions of people, into an awful eternity.
“In short, the characters of the gods, and the licentiousness which prevails at
MISSIOWARP MISREPRESENTATIONS. 167
into the errors of detail of some part of this statement,
I may observe that to assume that, because there are
licentious religious ceremonies existing in a country,
there must necessarily be licentious national morals, is a
conclusion which, when deliberately published, exhibits
an ignorance and negligence which can hardly be too
severely censured. For the fallacy of such a course
of reasoning was pointed out by Voltaire, and was
afterwards alluded to by Dean Milman, who, as was
shown by Buckle, was mistaken in attributing to Con-
stant a remark that Voltaire seems to have been the
first to make. But the whole subject of indecent mytho-
logical rites is gone into in Cox’s “Mythology of the
Aryan Nations,” and as these rites have been frequently
assumed to have arisen, and to have been, as it were, the
natural result and production of licentious national habits,
it may perhaps be as well to borrow from Mr. Cox's
work a few facts which may tempt those who have not
met with his book to study the subject for themselves.
In his chapter, then, on the Development of Mytho-
logy, Mr. Cox points out that in the Vedic songs we
read of Indra, the sun-god, as fighting with Vritra, the
dark power, who imprisons the rain in the storm-cloud;
that we read of him again as fighting with Ahi, the
throttling Snake, and as pursuing the beautiful Dahana
of the dawn. And these names thus attached to, and
used in connection with, the phenomena of nature,
would, in course of time, and as tribes scattered over
their festivals, and abounds in their popular works, with the enervating nature
of the climate, have made the Hindoos the most effeminate and corrupt people
on earth. I have, in the course of this work, exhibited so many proofs of this
fact, that I will not again disgust the reader by going into the subject. Suffice
it to say, that fidelity to marriage vows is almost unknown among the Hindoos ; the
intercourse of the seves approaches very near to that of the irrational animals,”—
Ward's “History, Literature, and Religion of the Hindoos,” p. 70.
168 - MATIVE CHARACTER.
the face of the earth, be personified, and from that the
step to deification would be short. The expressions
which attached a living force to natural objects would
be continued, and would result in personal, and often
sensual, attributes to the gods that had thus been manu-
factured or developed from the early fancies and language
with which the imagination of man had clothed and
represented the moving scenes amongst which they
dwelt.* And the words of Kumārila prove that, among
the Eastern Aryans, the real character of their mythology
had not been forgotten. He, too, had to listen to com-
plaints like these, which Pindar and Plato bring against
the follies and the vices of the gods. His answer is
ready.
“It is fabled that Prajāpati, the Lord of Creation,
did violence to his daughter. But what does it mean?
Prajapati, the Lord of Creation, is a name of the sun,
and he is called so because he protects all creatures.
His daughter Ushas is the dawn. And when it is said
that he was in love with her, this only means that, at
sunrise, the sun runs after the dawn, the dawn being
at the same time called the daughter of the Sun, because
she rises when he approaches. In the same manner, if it
is said that Indra was the seducer of Ahalyā, this does
not imply that the god Indra committed such a crime;
but Indra means the sun, and Ahalyā the night, and as
the night is seduced and ruined by the sun of the morn-
ing, therefore is Indra called the paramour of Ahalyā.”
Starting, then, from ideal modes of expressing physical
phenomena and the grand operations of nature, we get
at last to a personification and deification of the heroes or
gods, who were invested in the popular mind with the
* Vol. i. p. 51.
MEAAW/AWG OF MPTHOLOGICAL RITES. 169
realities of what had at first been merely poetical ideas
regarding the action of physical phenomena. “But,” to
use the words of Mr. Cox,” “in such a process as this,
it is manifest that the men amongst whom it sprang up
would not be responsible for the form it might assume.
Words, applied at first simply to outward objects or
phenomena, would become the names of personal gods;
and the phrases which described those objects would
then be transferred to what were now deities to be
adored. But it would not follow that a form of thought
which might apply, not only without harm, but with a
marvellous beauty, to things if living, yet not personal,
would bear translation into the conditions of human life.
If, in the older speech, the heaven was wedded to the
earth, which returned his love with a prodigal fertility,
in the later time the name of the heaven would be the
name of a god, and that god would necessarily be earthly
and sensual. But this development of a mythology,
much of which would inevitably be immoral, and even
repulsive, would not necessarily exercise a similar
debasing influence on the morality and practice of the
people. It had been started with being a sentiment,
not a religion,-a personal conviction, but not a moral
belief; and the real object of the heart's adoration
Would remain not less distinct from the creations of
mythology than it had been before. Nay, it might be
that, with any given people, the tone of thought and
the character of society might be more and more raised,
even While the incongruous mythological fabric assumed
more stupendous proportions.” But enough has now
been said to show that there is nothing at all to wonder
at when we find repulsive national legends and a good
* Vol. i. p. 87.
17o AVAZYVAE CAAFAC 7'EA’.
state of morality side by side, and that to draw an
inference as to the state of a people's morals from the
mythological rites prevailing in a country is absurd.
It is melancholy to find that two of the principal
calumniators of the women of India are English mis-
sionaries, but it is satisfactory to be able to quote one
missionary against others. And in reference to this
subject of the character of the women, and the way
they are treated, I may quote the experience of the
Abbé Dubois, who lived amongst the people of Mysore
for twenty-two years, and on terms of the most intimate
description.* The letter from which I quote was written
by way of reply or in allusion to the dreadful picture
drawn by the missionary Ward of the natives of India,
and especially in reply to calumnious statements as to
the condition of native women. “To them,” says the
Abbé, “belong the entire management of their house-
hold and the care of their children. To them are in-
trusted generally the valuables of the family. They
are charged almost entirely with the delicate task of
procuring husbands for their daughters and wives for
their sons; and in the management of their domestic
business they show a shrewdness and Savingness and
foresight which would do honour to the best housewife
* I may here add that I have taken pains to ascertain the opinion of the
oldest planter in Mysore, a gentleman whose experience must have been, Ishould
think, quite equal to that of the Abbé Dubois, and who lived for fifteen years
amongst the people before a second planter settled in his division of the Mysore
province. And as to the excellent morality prevailing amongst the population
(the farmers of the country), he entirely agreed with the opinions I have
elsewhere expressed. But I do not think I need say anything more in Sup-
port of the character of the native women of Mysore, which has thus been
aspersed by men who, instead of carrying a message of peace between the two
countries, have (through ignorance, let us hope), by drawing entirely false
pictures of the domestic life of the natives, done so much to prejudice them in the
eyes of our countrymen. Truly indeed has it been said that the spirit of Christ
is often wanting where his name is, as it is often present where his name is not.
ExPERIENCES OF THE ABBA: DUBOIS. 171
in Europe. When any one is lucky, it is said that
he has an intelligent wife. The authority of married
women within houses is very great and undisputed, and
though in public there is an outward appearance of
authority on the part of the husband, this vanishes in
private. The women are dutiful daughters, faithful
wives, tender and intelligent housewives, and not, as
Mr. Ward says, mere animals kept for burden or
slaughter.” And this is the experience of a man who,
on the authority of Colonel Wilks, we know to have
actually dwelt in the houses of the people of Mysore.
Mr. Arthur, however, is determined that his picture
shall not lack completeness, and he finally adjures the
British public to “think of the eight millions of wild
men who haunt the woods and hills, of the twenty mil-
lions of outcasts whose lot is vile and bitter, of the two
or three or four millions of widows brow-beaten and
friendless; think of the houses of thirty nations where
no common board” is spread, and no fond circle twined.”
I dare say that such of the public as may think it
worth while to read this book are by this time as tired
of Mr. Arthur as I am ; but I have thought it worth
while to notice his statements, not because they are his,
but because they are fair samples of a number of those
ridiculous pictures with which our missionaries delight
to fill the minds of the people in England.
It is a sad thing to have to deprive missionary writers
* Nothing aggrieves our missionaries so much as the absence of this “common
board,” and the fact of the men eating first, and the women and children last,
has commonly been brought forward as a proof of the degradation of the women
of India. But a little reflection will show that this habit came naturally about
in consequence of the Women of the family being the cooks, and from their not
allowing people of inferior caste to touch their food, or, in other words, from
their having no servants. The same sort of thing may often be witnessed in this
country in the houses of the poor, where the mother of the family prefers to get
the males their meal first, and then sits down to hers afterwards.
172 AWATIVE CHARACTER."
of any part of their stock in trade, but I cannot close
this allusion to these gentlemen without intrenching a
little further on those sensational pictures which have
led the people in England to suppose that suttees were
common from one end of India to the other. The fact
is that they were little known or heard of south of the
Nerbudda; and Malcolm, writing in 1826, says that
“Suttees have decreased and, indeed, are almost unknown
in many of the southern parts of India, and in the coun-
try of the Deccan, Malwa, and Hindustan they are of
rare occurrence.” Buchanan, who travelled through a
great part of South India in about 1800, speaks, to the
best of my recollection, of the institution having gone
quite out of fashion; and in Wilks I can find no allusion
to Sutteeism at all. Another favourite article in stock is
a description of the Toda funeral rite, which I have
described in my last chapter; and in Perceval’s “Land
of the Veda” there is a ridiculous engraving or wood-
cut of men and women quietly touching noses amidst
their half-wild buffaloes, which are dashing about in all
directions to escape from the natives who are pursuing
them; and, to complete the absurdity of the picture,
there is a Toda aiming a blow with the sharp edge of
an axe at the head of one of the buffaloes.
Turning now to works of a different character, we
shall find the stream still running on, and the same sort
of tone prevailing, and I accordingly give a few in-
stances, which sufficiently indicate the continuance of
those evil reports which our countrymen still delight to
circulate. Major Evans Bell tells us that “no native is
capable of feeling gratitude, and that feeling is unknown
even amongst themselves. What do you expect,” he asks,
“from people who don’t know what gratitude means?
AºA'CACAV7' AA USA. O.F. 173
Asiatics,” he continues, “are cowardly and yet fero-
cious; they have no reasoning powers, but a great deal
of low cunning.” Then the author of “Scinde, or the
Unhappy Valley,” tells us “that Orientals have an
utter inability to conceive what honesty means—to enter
even into the lowest sense of the apothegm that honesty
is the best policy. Nothing,” he continues, “poses,
puzzles, and perplexes an Eastern fellow-creature, rea-
sonable and reasoning being as he is allowed to be, half
so much as fair dealing.” Captain Brinkman, in his
“Rifle in Cashmere,” says that “a native cannot speak
the truth about the simplest matter,” and further ob-
serves that “in moral character the Hindoo is certainly
to be pitied ; but take away lying, cheating, selfish-
ness, and conceit, and they will not be found to be so
bad after all.” Finally, we have Sir William Denison,
of Madras, who seems to form a fitting climax to the
list of those who have indulged themselves in re-echoing
the spirit of so many that have gone before. “The
longer I stay here,” says Sir William, “the lower opi-
nion of the native character do I form. I cannot trust
the Indians. Their bad qualities come before me con-
stantly, and I seldom hear of their good ones. They are
sneaking, abject slaves, bitter tyrants and cowards, with
marvellous little honesty. They are cowards, and con-
sequently liars without hesitation—in fact, instinctively.”
They are “the cowardly Hindoos who have made for
themselves the bed on which they have been lying for
the last two thousand years.” To some it may seem that
I attach perhaps an undue importance to what people
term these ephemeral publications of the day; but these
are the Works that are mainly read, that take their
places in the circulating library, and so influence a far
I 74 AVA TVVE CAAAACTER."
{
greater number of individuals than the well-considered
and accurate conclusions of men like Elphinstone. For
one man who reads the opinions of that just and able
man, there are hundreds who will read the opinions ex-
pressed by the sporting authors, and by men like the
author of “Viceregal Life;” and I therefore think that
it is of very great importanee to at least attempt to
arrest that flood of vilification which tends to prejudice
the minds of our countrymen against the peoples of India.
If our countrymen were only let alone, they would form
their opinions of the different peoples as they found
i them; but, in consequence of this unqualified and in-
discriminating tone of abuse, Englishmen go to India
prepared to find everything that is bad in human nature,
and nothing that is good. And the general result is,
that they do find everything that is bad and nothing
that is good, and there is nothing more to be said.
Now, as regards the expression of opinion on the
natives of India, I do not think we have any right
to expect that people should repress the conclusions
they have formed, and I certainly have no wish that
they should do so. But I think that every one who
is interested in India, or who has the slightest interest
in humanity at large, has a right to urge, by every
means in his power, the advisability of requiring de-
tailed evidence in support of all opinions that may tend
to prejudice our countrymen against the people they
have undertaken to govern; and I think that the public
in general have a right to expect that, for the future,
experience and evidence shall be carefully limited to
those classes and peoples amongst whom the experience
has been acquired. The expression of such conclusions,
coming from an obscure individual like myself, will,
CUA’A&EAV77 OP/WZOAWS OF. I 75
of course, have little weight; nor, if they had weight,
would they materially affect the matter in the long run.
The people in whose hands the matters mainly lie are
the reviewers of books, and I accordingly appeal to
them to do what they can in future to put down all
unfavourable statements as regards the people of India
which have not been carefully ascertained, or which,
being carefully ascertained, are applied broadcast over
the length and breadth of that vast assemblage of
peoples to whom we have given the common name of
Hindoos.
Having thus glanced at the opinions expressed by
various authors, I shall now offer a few remarks as to
the opinions current in Anglo-Indian society; inquire
into the causes that have given rise to them; and indi-
cate the sources from which alone correct opinions can
probably be derived.
From all that I have heard expressed and have been
able to learn in various ways, I have come to the con-
clusion that very few Anglo-Indians are to be found
who would give at all a favourable account of the
Indians. Many are of opinion, as I have heard an
Indian judge of long experience assert, that their cha-
racter is wholly unfathomable, and that the longer you
live in India, the more puzzled you become; and the
majority of our countrymen hold the character of the
natives to be, on the whole, about the worst of any
people in the World. In support of these assertions I
do not think it necessary to enter into any details, or to
supply any evidence, as the written opinions previously
quoted are a sufficient indication of the general feeling.
It may be as well, however, to turn the attention of the
reader to a short consideration of the circumstances and
176 AVA 7/VE CA/ARACTER.
occupations of our countrymen in India, in order to
show that Englishmen have every opportunity of seeing
most of the bad and none of the good qualities of the
Indians, and that the formation of the unfavourable
opinions so frequently expressed, though aided con-
siderably by writers on India, has been, in no small
degree, the natural result of the circumstances of the
situation.
Anglo-Indian society may be divided roughly into
five classes:—Firstly, the civilians and soldier-civilians;
secondly, the officers of our Indian army; thirdly, the
missionaries of all denominations; fourthly, the mer-
chants; and, fifthly, the employers of labour, as planters,
railway engineers, and contractors. -
In the term civilians I include all the officials who
conduct the law, revenue, and police business of India;
and it is plain that the gentlemen thus engaged in the
administration of the country must have a large and
daily experience of the Indians. But it requires but a
moment’s consideration to see that this experience, how-
ever extensive, is, from its necessarily one-sided cha-
racter, but little to be relied on. For, if we want to
acquire a knowledge of diseased conditions and abnormal
growths, we go to a hospital; and, in the same way, if
we want to acquire a knowledge of perverted nature and
abnormal developments, we go to the courts into which
all the moral sewerage of the human animal is naturally
poured. And had the officials who in this country
administer the law and collect the income-tax no
experience of Englishmen other than that derived
from points of official contact, it is evident that their
opinion as to the character of the natives of these
islands would not stand very high. The experience of
C/VILIAN AND MILITARP EXPERIEWCES. 177
a civilian, then, though extensive and complete as far as
it goes, gives only an experience of the natives under
the worst conditions, and, beyond that, his opportunities
of observation cannot extend. If, therefore, a civilian
ever arrives at a fair estimate of native character, it
must be by some process other than that of his own
experience. In a word, the general result comes to
this, namely, that those who judge by their own ex-
perience must necessarily form a bad opinion of natives,
and those who have the sense to value their experience
at its proper worth, come to no definite conclusion at
all, but simply content themselves with asserting, as did
the judge I have alluded to (a very sharp, intelligent
observer), that they know nothing whatever about them.
As for the officers of our native troops, who simply
go from the mess-room to the parade-ground and back
again, it seems almost superfluous to point out that their
opportunities of observation do not extend to any side
of native character whatever. Such a thing as inter-
course between them and the native officers of their
regiment cannot and does not exist, and the remainder
of their experience can only be acquired amongst the
native servants and the scum of our cantonments. Under
these circumstances there is nothing left for these gen-
tlemen to conclude but that the natives of India are a
miserable set of people, who all come under the general
head of “nigger.” But, independently of the absence
of opportunities of observation, there is another cause
for the general low estimate of the above-mentioned
classes, and a cause which, strange to say, seems to have
been commonly overlooked. I allude to the fact that
our civilians and officers in India carry to that country
an ethical standard immeasurably higher than can be
WOL. I. N
178 . ATA 7/VE CAE/AAA C 7'EA’."
found in any quarter of the globe. Drawn from gentle-
men's families, and associating entirely with gentlemen,
they have naturally high principles, and they leave
England too young to have experienced the fact that the
bulk of the English nation has a very different moral
standard from theirs. Tried by an ordinary London
standard, the inhabitants of our Indian towns and can-
tonments would not, I am afraid, stand very high, and
the reader can readily realise the result when these
classes are tried by the standard of an English gentleman.
Turning next to the English merchants of the towns,
we shall find here that their experience must necessarily
be of the most limited nature. Few speak the native
languages, and those who do are seldom inclined, after
a hard day’s work at the desk, to do anything but retire
to dinner, a cheroot, and bed. -
The missionaries, one would suppose at first sight,
ought to know more about the natives; but these gen-
tlemen have proved by their works that they have made
but a poor use of such opportunities of observation as
they had, and lead one to the conclusion, in short, that
it would be useless to look for an opinion of any value
in that quarter.
Lastly, we come to the employers of labour; and of
these, the engineers and railway officials and contractors,
being brought into contact with only one, or, at the
most, two classes, have mostly the experience alone of
master and servant. As to my own class—the coffee-
planters of the South, the tea-planters of Assam, Cachar,
and Darjeeling, and the indigo-planters of Northern
India—they are, for the most part, to be classed as
simply employers of labour; and I conceive that, with
but few exceptions, it is to the indigo-planters alone
FEW Z/7, 70 /UDGE OF. 179
we have to look for anything approaching to an exten-
sive experience of native character as it exhibits itself
in its most natural form ; for they, and they alone,
seem to have been mixed up with the rural classes in
the daily transactions of life, in buying and selling, bor-
rowing and lending, as landlord and tenant, and as
persons frequently called in to act as arbitrators in all
manner of disputes and differences. But it unfortu-
nately happens that those most competent to offer an
opinion have told us nothing, while by some extraor-
dinary—or perhaps ordinary—circumstance, we have a
copious supply of writing from those who have had the
smallest opportunities of arriving at a fair estimate of
natives. Civilians, clergymen, officers, and missionaries
have enlarged most fully on native character, but we
have literally not a line from an observer who has been
thrown into close contact with the rural classes as
regards all the transactions and intercourse that take
place amongst neighbours. There are people who have
seen the Indians as litigants and criminals, as traders, as
labourers or sepoys, and as people who obstinately
refuse to turn Christians, and they have told us what
they know, or, at least, what they have imagined. There
are a few who have lived amongst the natives as nearly
as possible as neighbours, who have told us nothing; and
thus the matter stands.
If the preceding observations are well founded, it
follows, as a matter of course, that the history of the
characteristics of the various peoples of India has yet to
be written. Now, as a matter of general interest, and
for the sake of the general reader, it is plain that the
extension of our information as regards the Indians is
a matter deserving of considerable attention; but when
N 2
18O NATIVE CAAFACTER."
We come to consider the subject with reference to our
rule in India it is difficult to exaggerate its importance.
For it cannot be doubted that the better we understand
them, the more we shall like and be liked by them, and,
as a necessary consequence, the more easily shall we be
able to govern them and extend our civilisation. And,
turning our attention from the general to the particular,
we shall at once see from another point of view the
importance of diffusing correct information as regards
the Indians. Nor need f employ much time in showing
that the opening of the Suez Canal, and the consequent
cheapening of passages to India, will produce an
immense effect on the intercourse between the two
countries; and that the extension of railways, canals,
and irrigation works, tea, coffee, and cinchona planting,
must in a few years bind India to England with some-
thing more nearly approaching to intercourse than has
ever existed between the two countries. Yearly, more
and more English will go to India to push forward these
undertakings; year by year will further discoveries be
made, and new sources of enterprise be brought to
light. And when we for one moment consider these
facts, need I waste more words in showing the impor-
tance of collecting and putting together information in
such a form that it will be an easy matter for any one
who has to do with the natives to understand them at
the outset P
Enough has now been said to show the necessity of
at least endeavouring to lay before the public such
information as will tend to smooth the way towards a
better understanding between the English and the
Indians, and in the previous chapter I have given the
result of my own experience. How little or how much
IMPORTANCE OF FORMING CORRECT OPINIONS. 181
my observation may apply to natives in other parts of
India I am, of course, unable to say ; for, as regards
the remainder of India, I conceive myself to be in as
much need of information as are the English readers I
am now addressing. What I have presented is merely
a minute analysis of a very diminutive section of India,
and it must be considered as a trifling instalment of
what, I have no doubt, will one day be completely laid
before the public. But because my section is a small
one, and lying in an out-of-the-way, and, till within the
last fifteen years, an almost unknown corner of the pro-
vince of Mysore, it must not therefore be concluded that
my experience is unimportant. On the contrary, were
it in my power to write an account of the characteristics
of the various peoples of India, I should deem it advis-
able to commence with Munzerabad, or with some
district closely analogous, as a natural basis. For, as
has been well remarked by the lamented author of the
“History of Civilization in England” (see vol. ii. chap. i.),
it is plain “that the best way of arriving at great social
truths is by first investigating those cases in which
Society has developed itself according to its own laws,
and in which the governing powers have least opposed
themselves to the spirit of their times.” In studying,
therefore, the history of the Indians, we should, I con-
ceive, give priority to those peoples who from their
situation have been least interfered with. Having thus
ascertained the Indian character in its normal state, we
should then proceed in order to those countries where
it has been more interfered with, till we reach those
districts where misgovernment and oppression, and the
tyranny of race over race, have produced their natural
effect on the character of the people. Unfortunately for
I 82 AVA TV VE CA/AAA C 7'EA’.”
the Indians and for ourselves, our method has been exactly
the reverse of this. We have commenced our experience
in those parts where the people have been most inter-
fered with, and where the most disagreeable character-
istics have consequently been developed; and this cir-
cumstance has caused us to conclude that the character
of the people is irretrievably bad, and that when we fall
in with the honester people of the hills, they are what
they are by race; that, in fact, they are a breed apart,
and that when discussing native character they should,
from their numerical insignificance, be entirely over-
looked, or placed in a separate category. Now, to use
the words of Mill (“Principles of Political Economy,”
vol. i. p. 390), “Of all vulgar modes of escaping from
the consideration of the effect of social and moral
influences on the human mind, the most vulgar is that
of attributing the diversities of conduct and character to
inherent national differences.” Now, while admitting
the general truth of this proposition, I will not go so
far as to assert that there is no inherent difference in
the African negro, for there seems to me to be a fatal
weakness of character about the negro which no influ-
ences seem capable of eradicating, and this seems to
me to be the only instance existing in the world
of anything like inherent natural difference. But,
with that exception, we may assume the proposition to
be incontrovertibly true; and it therefore follows that
where we find good, indifferent, and bad characteristics
most prevalent, they are entirely owing to natural causes
and to the force of circumstances, and to nothing else
whatever. And the practical importance of bearing this
fact constantly in mind cannot be too persistently urged;
for, by keeping it ever before the attention, the dislike
VAAAA'S WITH CIRCUMSTAAWCES. 183
caused by coming in contact with people of inferior
moral qualities will be turned into pity, and one is ready
to reflect on what would have been the probable result
if a white man had been brought up under the depressing
causes and influences which result in inferior character-
istics. And here it may be useful to turn the attention
of the reader to an illustration which may be found
close to his own door, and which shows most conclusively
how accurately the same causes produce the same results
under an Eastern or a Western sky. I recollect that it
was asserted in Parliament some years ago that the Irish
are very like the Hindoos in many respects; and in one
respect, at least, the similarity is very striking, for the
flattery which the lower classes of the Irish so much
indulge in has an exact counterpart amongst the natives
of the plains of India. Nor have we far to go for an
explanation of this fact. Both peoples have been
oppressed and kicked about, and overridden in some
way or other, and a tendency to flatter and please
people stronger than themselves was thus naturally
developed. The Scotch, again, as I think is pretty
well known, are not at all given to anything of the kind,
and, in short, they are extremely matter of fact, and
consequently are apt to make observations which are
sometimes far from palatable. Nor need we read much
of the history of Scotland to discover the reasons of a
character so opposite to the Irish having been developed.
Turning now to India, we shall find in Munzerabad some
characteristics which are as like those that have been
developed in Scotland as eggs are to eggs, and the fol-
lowing rather amusing instance will serve to illustrate
my meaning.
Some years ago, on my return to Munzerabad from
184 AVA TV VE CHAAA C 7'EP.
England, I fell in with a worthy middle-aged Mun-
Zerabad farmer, who seemed very glad to see me. He
saluted me with “Salaam, Wisdom;” and I returned
the salutation, and made the usual inquiry after his
house-people. He then asked me if I was well, and,
after a long look at me, said, “You’re looking very old,”
to which I replied by observing that I certainly was
not quite so young as I used to be. Continuing his
observation, he said, “And besides, you’re not at all
good-looking now : formerly you used to be handsome—
now you’re not at all handsome.” Anything more un-
likely, as coming from a Hindoo, it would be difficult
to conceive; but a blunt expression of what they think
is as natural a consequence of the circumstances and
history of the farmers of Munzerabad as is the oily
address of the Hindoo of the plains natural to his—as
strictly natural as the blunt address of the Scotchman
and the insinuating manner of the Irish.
And here I feel that, were I writing for the learned,
or even for people of a fair amount of reading and
observation, an apology would be required for thus
enforcing such plain and self-evident propositions. But
I address myself to the illiterate rather than to the
learned. I wish, in fact, to take the public at the
lowest rather than the highest. My principal aim is to
attract the attention of the lower stratum of the English
in India—of our railway mechanics, overseers, clerks,
and, in short, the whole of that useful class which
occupies the minor post in all our Indian undertakings.
I wish to place before these classes facts and observa-
tions which I venture to think will make them regard
the Indians from a philosophical and discriminating
point of view. Such being at least one of the prin-
SUMMA RP’. 185
cipal objects of this book, the general reader will readily
understand my entering into details, and enforcing pro-
positions which, to the upper educated classes, are the
veriest truisms.
In concluding this chapter it may be useful to cast a
backward look, just to see what we have been talking
about in these four-and-thirty pages, and to place the
leading points, if possible, still more clearly before the
reader. In the first place, then, we pointed out the
difficulties of arriving at correct conclusions regarding
the various peoples of India, and, while doing so, endea-
voured to indicate the harm that must arise from Writers
saying anything to prejudice our countrymen against
the races they have undertaken to govern. We then
said that, when any two peoples have a mutual dislike
to one another, and where that dislike coexists with
imperfect information, the most ridiculous assertions are
readily made, and as readily credited; and, as an illustra-
tion of that tendency, we pointed to the notions regarding
the French which were once current amongst the Eng-
lish, and of those notions which the French for long
entertained as regards our habits and customs. We
next proceeded to take stock of some of the published
opinions of Europeans who had passed observations on
the character of the Indians, and, in the first place,
glanced at the contents of the letters of two Danish
missionaries who went to India in 1705. In these
letters we found many things which spoke alike well
for the natives and the missionaries; and I may again
remind the reader that the latter found that the Mala-
barians, with all their strange fancies, led, in the opinion
of the missionaries, “a very quiet, honest, and virtuous
life.” We then turned our attention to the long stream
186 AVA 7/VE CAAAA C7'EA’.
of evil reports which our countrymen of all classes had
so industriously circulated, from the publication of Hol-
well, in 1766, down to that of Sir William Denison,
in 1869, and saw reason to conclude that this indis-
criminating tone of abuse had been productive of much
harm, and required to be summarily checked. And we
particularly noticed the tendency that missionaries had
to draw unfavourable inferences as regards the morality
of the natives, on account of the existence of obscene
mythological rites.” We endeavoured to trace the origin
of these rites, and it was clearly pointed out that the
existence of such rites was no proof whatever of impure
national morals; and, subsequently, sufficient evidence
was adduced to show that the domestic morality of the
Indians was the very opposite of what many writers had
alleged it to be. We next turned our attention to the
opinions of natives current in Indian society, and
endeavoured to trace the causes that led to the generally
low estimate of native character. We saw that all the
official classes, seeing none of the good and all of the
bad qualities of the Indians, have naturally come to
very unfavourable conclusions. We saw that the officers
in the Indian army had no opportunities of observation
whatever, and that, as regards other classes of
Europeans in India, it was probable that, with a few
exceptions, the indigo-planters were the only people
who had an extensive experience of the natives as
regards the transactions of every-day life. We also
* Whatever may have existed formerly, I confess that I am extremely doubtful
as to the present existence of obscene mythological rites, and I have never been
able to obtain any evidence of such practices in Mysore. Inquiries recently
instituted by me have only been successful in discovering one instance of any-
thing approaching to them. This occurs in Munzerabad, at the village of
Wongoor, where the women dance the Segee feast quite naked. But no man is
allowed to witness this, as a screen is put up for the occasion.
COMWCD US/OM. 187
noticed that whereas the official classes and the mis-
sionaries had written much on native life, not a line had
been written by those who had the best opportunities of
observation; and that, in short, the history of the cha-
racteristics of the peoples of India had yet to be written.
We then saw the importance, when drawing attention to
any general social truths, of commencing first of all
with the people who had been least interfered with,
and, from that base, advancing to the consideration of
those whose development had been altered and bent
by the action of tyrannical rulers; and we saw that our
countrymen, from having been brought in contact with
those most interfered with, had concluded that the
national character was irretrievably bad, instead of
being the result of natural causes. And, in alluding to
the common method of escaping from social problems
by attributing features of character to inherent natural
difference, we showed that, just as regular causes have
formed the very opposite characteristics of the Scotch
and Irish, so, in India, similar causes have produced
some races of a blunt and matter-of-fact character, and
others full of an insinuating flattery. And, finally, we
concluded generally that the characteristics of the people
vary with their circumstances, just as we commonly see
in other quarters of the globe.
CEHABTER V.
BRIBERY.
IN commencing to consider the history of bribery, it is
natural to notice that institution as it exists in other
countries, and especially in Russia, where it seems to be
as firmly rooted as it is in India. And, in mentioning
Russia and bribery in the same breath, it is impossible to
resist quoting Krilof’s admirable fable of the “Marmot
and the Fox,” which certainly ought (if indeed it has
not) to have a counterpart in India. “‘And where are
you off to in such a hurry P” said the Marmot to the
Fox. “Why, my dear friend, you’d hardly believe it,”
replied the Fox; ‘but I have been falsely accused and
dismissed as an extortioner. You know I was judge of
the poultry-yard, and so constant were my exertions,
that I was often kept awake all night. And yet, after
all my trouble, just look at the result. Now, I appeal
to you, did you ever see me do wrong?” “Well, no,
friend, no,” said the Marmot, ‘I never have, but I have
often remarked that there was some down on your
muzzle.’” Now, the history of bribery in Russia and
in India is exactly similar, and Krilof’s fable, therefore,
precisely illustrates the nature of the evidence we have
for asserting its universal existence in both countries.
COAA’ UP77OAV ZAV Aº USS/A. 189
You may see nothing, and know nothing, but there is
always that awkward down on the muzzle. -
The institution of bribery may be briefly described as
a system by which the officials of the State augment
inadequate salaries by a direct tax on those who are
unfortunately compelled to call in the action of the law,
or who happen to be involved in any transaction where
the service of a Government agent can possibly be
brought to bear. The existence of this accursed evil
necessarily operates on the whole society to an extent
which requires no small effect of the imagination to
realise. And the general effect may be briefly summed
up by asserting that the institution of bribery tends to
make all men in their relations to the State both liars
and rascals, though in the relations of private life they
may be honest and trustworthy. That these conse-
quences must inevitably ensue we know perfectly well
from our general knowledge of human nature; but I
think it will not be altogether superfluous if I direct the
reader's attention more particularly, and with some
detail, to the result of bribery in Russia. And in taking
my illustrations from that country, I do not think I can
do better than quote the experience of a gentleman who
wrote a very interesting article on Russia in the October
number of Fraser's Magazine in the year 1863.
“The present state of the Russian Empire,” we are
told, “offers, perhaps, the most extraordinary example
of bribery and corruption, from the highest to the
lowest, ever furnished by history; the system is so
firmly rooted that it is quite an understood, a recognised
thing—what the Americans would call ‘a national
institution.’ -
“An individual in the Government service, if asked if
190 - AA&MA EAC P :
his place is a good one, will unblushingly answer, “Why,
yes; the salary, it is true, is small, but the revenue is
good,” meaning that plenty of forced fees are to be had,
or certain direct plunder. This is so notorious that
Some of the most eminent Russian writers have ex-
posed it in prose and verse—even on the stage—to no
effect: the Emperors themselves have frequently acknow-
ledged the evil, as well as their inability to put a stop to
it; nay, they have even connived at it. One case of
this kind is very interesting, and serves to illustrate the
fact. I can vouch for the truth of it, having been
acquainted with the family: a friend of theirs related
the story to me.
“A gentleman of German origin, who assisted in the
education of the Emperors Alexander and Nicholas,
being no longer required in that capacity, was, as a
recompense for his services, named director, or chief of
the custom-house at Odessa, on the Black Sea, that port
being at that period declared to be a free port. The
Emperor Alexander, who was much attached to his
tutor, told him that he expected he would write to him,
and that in case he required any aid, not to fail to do so.
This gentleman established himself at Odessa, but as his
family increased, he found himself, after some years, with
twelve children, and that his pay did not suffice to main-
tain them. In this dilemma he wrote to the Emperor,
stating that he could no longer live on the pay his place
procured him, on account of his numerous family, and
beseeched to have another place with a greater salary.
The answer was brief, to the effect that the Emperor
was sorry that he had suffered in a pecuniary way, but
that he could not do better for him than to advise that
he studied better than hitherto the advantage of his
A&O/SS/AAV AAVEC/DOT/E O/7. I 9 I
present employ. The good, right-minded German, as
he really was, could not understand this letter; and in
his distress applied to a friend, his countryman, a mer-
chant of the town, who, laughing, told him, ‘Why, my
good fellow, I and others have often given you hints to
the same effect, which you never would take. It means
simply this: study to make as much money as you can,
which your position as chief gives you fine chances of
doing.’
“He did study effectually; for, although he really was
a good and honourable man at heart, he went with the
stream, made a fortune, and when he died left his family
in possession of certain large houses, warehouses, and
manufactories in the town of Odessa.”
Further on in the same article, the writer, after com-
menting on the bribery that went on in the police
department, gives us the result that had been obtained
by the efforts at reform. “During the last eighteen
months,” he writes, “I have traversed Russia from
St. Petersburg to Odessa, and again down the Volga
as far as Nejuy Novgorod, remained for weeks in many
towns, had intimate relations with all those best informed,
and found that the general opinion is, that the aug-
mentation in number of persons employed, as well as
addition of salary, has tended to no useful end; luxury
and extravagance increase, honesty does not so; and
there are no hopes of amelioration under the present
system.”
I have now given the reader a fair illustration of the
state of things that must exist in a country where
bribery is thoroughly naturalised; and in “Russia, by
a Recent Traveller,” are to be found further instances
which tend to bring out, if possible, still more clearly,
I 92 AAAAAA' P :
the evils arising from a universal system of corrup-
tion.
Turning now for one moment to England, where, I
believe, official bribery no longer exists, we shall find in
the history of our elections sufficient proofs of that irre-
sistible desire for gain which so readily silences scruples
in every quarter of the globe. And accordingly we find,
in Charles Knight’s “Early Reminiscences,” that at
Windsor “corruption was an open and almost legitimate
trade, but that, in spite of this laxity of political morals,
the people were, for the most part, of honourable private -
character.” We see, also, by the history of the Beverley
elections, that, by the evidence brought before the com-
missioner, no exposure hurts a briber's credit, or makes
his neighbours think less well of him, notwithstanding
that to be a successful briber requires that a man
should, for the time, stoop to turning himself into an
ants' nest of lies and impositions.
Numerous instances could, of course, be added to those
I have quoted, but those mentioned are quite sufficient
to illustrate the general fact, that wherever dishonesty
pays, dishonesty will prevail. They also illustrate the
general truth that honesty and dishonesty can flourish
side by side, and that, in short, these opposite principles
may be found fully developed in the same people. To
infer, therefore, that because people are liars and rascals
in one respect, they must therefore be so in all the
relations of life, is an evident absurdity. Indeed, the
very mention of the possibility of any one doing so is
only to be justified by the fact that people in India are
very apt to draw their conclusions as to the character of
the natives from a consideration of the diseases inci-
dental to the situation, instead of from a general view of
J7'S Al/O/8A/, /"V//L.S. I 93
all the points that ought to be taken into consideration.
While, however, broadly stating the absurdity of such a
method of arriving at conclusions, it must not, therefore,
be supposed that I mean to assert that bribery has not
affected the private character of the people; for it has
undoubtedly encouraged the development of disregard
for truth, general cunning, and habits of cautious reti-
cence. The last-named quality, indeed, is developed to
such an extent, that it is extremely difficult for any Euro-
pean, whether he be an official or not, to know what is
going on amongst the people about him. The precau-
tions of the natives are, indeed, so effectual, that, at a
time when the grossest corruption existed in Mun-
Zerabad, an officer of the commission, a man of long
experience, told me that he thought the system of bribery
was fast dying out, if, indeed, it was not already almost
Quite extinct. Nor is it to be wondered at that such
ignorance prevails. After a five years' residence amongst
the people, and in such utter solitude that I had often
no chance of speaking my own language for weeks
together, I knew no more as to the bribery that went
on than I did after I had lived twelve months in the
country. I knew, of course, by the down on the muzzles
of the official foxes, and by general report, that such a
system must exist; but it was not until I had acquired
the entire confidence of the people, till they knew that I
would keep my information to myself, and till my opera-
tions became more varied and extended, that I acquired
any positive knowledge on the subject. But the know-
ledge, though late, came at last, and then were made
known to me the passive resistance of the native officials,
their determination to give nothing for nothing, the
necessary connivance of the people, and the height to
WOL. I. O
I 94. AAIB BA. P.
which the machinery of bribery can be developed when,
for thousands of years, it has been a national institution.
I shall now give the reader a brief account of two of
the many cases of bribery that came within my own
experience. The first is an instance of the passive resist-
ance type, and in the second I unwittingly advanced a
large proportion of the money that was needed to defeat
the ends of justice.
Many years ago a well-known farmer in my neigh-
bourhood, a very determined, plucky sportsman, applied
for a piece of jungle, for the purpose of planting it with
coffee. We had often been out shooting together, and
as I was willing to do my friend a good turn, I told him
not to pay the usual bribes, and that I would get him
his grant for nothing. When next at the head-quarters
of the division, I accordingly mentioned the matter to
the assistant-superintendent, and saw the grant handed
over to the parish tax-gatherer (who happened to be
there too) for delivery to my sporting friend. The
delivery of the document was, however, delayed, under
one pretext or another, till the superintendent who had
issued the grant left the country. There now seemed
little chance of getting the document without paying
for it. But I still told my friend to hold out; and in
about a year I took the opportunity of urging the matter
again when the chief superintendent was on his annual
tour, and to make sure, the grant was this time handed
to my friend in my presence. I thought we had finally
gained the day; and, indeed, for some years my friend
“slept in all the security of undisputed possession.”
At last, however, in consequence of some new regula-
tions being made in reference to coffee lands, the old
grants were recalled and new ones issued. My friend's
JAWS.T.AAWC ES OF. I 95
was, of course, recalled amongst the number; and a fresh
superintendent having by that time arrived, a new grant
was, of course, forgotten to be issued, and therefore the
difficulties were as great as ever. Eventually my friend
got his grant, but it took me at least seven years to get
the better of the native officials. A fee of about £2
would have satisfied them and saved us a World of
trouble ; and, after an experience of a few more cases
of the passive-resistance type, I used to advise my
native friends to pay the bribes and be done with it.
The next case I have to relate was a curious one in
itself, and was no doubt amusing to my native neighbours,
though it placed me in rather an awkward dilemma.
When a certain native merchant was ascending one of
the passes which lead from the low country into the
Mysore province, his servant decamped, and took with
him certain property belonging to his master, which
consisted of money and jewels to a considerable amount.
Leaving the main road, the thief travelled on across
country, putting up at the house of any farmer who
would take him in for the night. One evening he
arrived at the house of a very respectable family with
whom I had been long acquainted, and obtained his
usual night's lodging. On the following morning a
nephew of the head of the family, who happened to be
on a visit, said that he would show the merchant’s ser-
vant the way to the next village, and the youngest son
of the family, a lad of about fifteen, went ostensibly for
company. The nephew in question, I had reason to
know, was a rascal, and I have little doubt that he per-
suaded his boy-cousin to join in the plot. But however
that might have been, they proceeded to relieve the
thief of all the valuables he had stolen from the
O 2
~!
I 96 AA’/APAEA&P.
merchant. They then hid the plunder in the jungle, the
nephew went to his house, and the boy-thief, his cousin,
went home, and immediately divulged the whole affair
to his father. The original thief was shortly after appre-
'hended, told his story to the authorities, and pointed
out the people whom he alleged had robbed him in turn.
The father of the boy-thief was, of course, anxious to
save the credit of his family, and to get the boy, who
was his favourite son, out of the scrape, and he there-
fore immediately set to work to raise money. The
old man accordingly arrived at my house one morning,
and said that he would be glad if I would lend him
3630, as he had particular reasons for requiring an
immediate supply of money. I thought nothing of the
request, as the natives frequently borrowed money from
me for short intervals, and I from them, and I at once
lent him the amount he wanted. The very same day
I had certain intelligence of the whole affair, and found,
of course, that the money was to be employed in bribing
the native officials. My character as a person interested
in the case seemed now to be fairly established, and,
much to my annoyance, a tenant of mine turned up the
following day, and requested that I would be good
enough to advance a further sum to the man who, I had
reason to suspect, was at the bottom of the whole affair.
But, as the reader may suppose, this proposition was
somewhat summarily rejected. -
In the course of a few days more one of the native
officials paid me a visit, when, of course, the object of
his calling was never alluded to. Before leaving, how-
ever, he said that he would much like to inspect my
guns, and would be glad if my native clerk would show
them to him. They then adjourned to the next room,
A&OAAP/WG. A 7"H/EF. 197
in which my guns were kept, and, after a short inspec-
tion, rejoined me. Shortly afterwards my clerk com-
municated to me the intentions of the officials, who were
anxious to hear whether I would be likely to interfere
in any way. Their proposal was simple. The merchant
was to have his property restored, the original thief was
to be left to his fate, and the robbers of the thief were
of course to be got off. The situation was awkward;
but the affair was, after all, no business of mine; and I
therefore said that as long as the merchant got his pro-
perty again, I did not particularly care what they did.
The mysterious way in which the property was even-
tually said to have been discovered was the joke of the
country-side. It was said that a party of the natives
were out shooting one day; that one of them came upon
signs which showed that some one had been sleeping all
night in the jungle, and that another of the party acci-
dentally happening to turn up some dead leaves, the
stolen property was thus luckily discovered. There
could be no doubt of the rest. The thief had hidden the
property himself, and, with the view of lessening his
guilt in the eyes of the authorities, had falsely accused
these unfortunate lads. Whether that account exactly
was the one given in for the benefit of the English
judge I do not know, as I left the country before the
case came on for trial; but some such solution must have
been given, for the pair were duly tried and acquitted.
The two preceding cases are sufficient to give an idea
of the passive denial of justice, and the ease with which
its perversion may be insured where cases are once in
the hands of the officials. To multiply such instances
would be at once tedious and useless, and the cases given
are not meant to prove, but merely to illustrate the facts.
198 BA/B/CAE. P.”
Nor, indeed, to an intelligent observer of human nature
is any detailed evidence necessary at all; for a con-
sideration of the history and circumstances of a people
is quite sufficient to enable any one to anticipate the
nature of their acts, as accurately as a knowledge of the
laws which govern the animal and vegetable world
tells us where to expect health and where disease; and
however much they may try to shut their eyes, our
English officials must be aware of the bribery that is
necessarily prevalent. In spite, however, of all the
advances of reason, the human animal will ever insist on
scratching at symptoms instead of treating the causes
which result in diseased action. Pre-eminently, indeed,
has the Government of India pursued the plan of
devising cures for symptoms. Instead of diverting to
the extremities that energy and activity which super-
abound at the centre of the system, it has merely been
diligent in piling act upon act, and law upon law, with
the view of putting down corruption and securing an
improvement in the administration of justice. But the
seats of diseased action have been left entirely untouched.
And, as if to be quite consistent in its system, the
Government seems to carry into the treatment of the
vegetable world its invariable method. Some years ago
the coffee-plants throughout Southern India were attacked
to an alarming extent by an insect called the Borer,
and, urged on by the outcry of some ignorant men, the
Government in its wisdom sent out a medical officer to
see if something could not be done to arrest the ravages
of this insect, and to devise methods for poisoning or
destroying it in some way or other. But neither the
Government nor the men who called on it seem to have
asked what caused the Borer. The fact was that, so far
GO VAERAWA/EAV7' CURES FOR. I 99
from its being an extraordinary visitation, it was the
natural result that any one could have anticipated from
starved soils and dry seasons, and the non-appearance of
some such insect would have been contrary to all the
laws which govern the vegetable world. A starved soil
and dry season produced a dry, sapless, sickly tree, and
the result was an enormous breeding-ground for insects
that live by and in dried-up wood. To direct an
attack on the insects, instead of the circumstances that
produced the insects, was, of course, manifestly absurd ;
and yet I believe that it will be found that this is an
exact illustration of the methods our Indian governors
usually adopt in attempting to remedy the evils that are
forced on their attention. And here I cannot help
pointing for one moment to the curious analogy that
exists between our attempts at government in India and
our former attempts at governing in England. It is, of
course, entirely foreign to the purposes of this book to
enter into such a subject at any length, and I merely
glance at One part of the analogy. I mean the general
law, or whatever it may be, that impels us first of all to
create a state of things which seems to be only made to
be pulled in pieces by future legislation. In former
days, in England, systems were built up which seemed
only constructed with the view of providing legislative
work for future generations; and exactly the same state
of things is repeating itself in India. Now, the various
causes of the ignorant action of our old English poli-
ticians are sufficiently understood, and need not, of course,
be detailed here. But in India, where there is neither
a party to serve nor traditions to influence the work of
our governors, the causes of misgovernment are by no
means so apparent to people who have not lived amongst
2 OO A R/B ERP.
the Indians, and witnessed the practical working of
Government enactments. And when we merely take an
outside view of the general features of the situation, it
seems hard to suppose that so much rottenness should
exist within. The officers of the Government, whether
civilians or soldier-civilians, are distinguished by an
amount of energy, industry, and ability to which I
believe it is impossible to find a parallel in the world;
and combined with these qualities there is everywhere
exhibited a conscientious zeal in promoting in every way
the interests of the countries and the welfare of the
peoples committed to their charge. The laws, too, on
the whole, read uncommonly well, and everything seems
so provided for, that it is difficult to imagine how things
could possibly be better. But—and it is with real
regret I write the word—failure is the only term that can
be conscientiously applied to the whole of our system of
government. It is indeed a complete failure, and, taking
everything into consideration, has failed to answer the
purposes of good government, or to attain those ends
which it has endeavoured to accomplish. Let us inquire
into the principal cause of failure.
I said the principal cause of failure, but I think I
should rather have said the cause of failure; for I am
unable to assign any other than one which is at all worth
noticing. And this cause of failure lies simply and
solely in the fact that there is no effectual channel of
communication between the people and the Government.
Not only, however, are the people entirely unrepresented,
and without any means of communicating their wishes
to Government, and their opinions as to the working of
Government enactments, but, to add to the general
confusion, the Government has no means of explaining
TAZAE A.EG/STRA TVOAV AC 7. 2O I
the meaning or communicating the very existence of
the laws which have been passed. I was never so much
struck with the confusion and annoyance that well-inten-
tioned acts cause as I was when I returned to Mysore in
1867. I had been absent from India nearly two years,
and the Government, with the view of improving the
administration of justice and preventing the increase of
litigation, had in the meantime been pleased to extend
to the province of Mysore the Indian Registration Act
of 1860. By this act all manner of documents were to
be registered, and there were provisions of such a nature,
and frequently so obscurely worded, that no one, unless
skilled in interpreting such enactments, would be at
all able to decide as to the exact intention of some of
the clauses. For instance, I could not make out whether
our coffee grants came under the act, and I accordingly
called on the Registrar-General, with a brother planter
who was particularly desirous of finding out what
the law really was. But we could get no official opinion
from the Registrar-General at all, and, as far as I
recollect, he seemed to be at variance with the judicial
commissioner on one or two clauses of the act. I then
observed that it would perhaps be better to go to the
judicial commissioner, and hear what he had got to say;
but I was told that I might if I liked, but that he would
probably not give me an opinion at all. So far, indeed,
from being in a position to offer decisive opinions, the
Registrar-General seemed rather desirous to hear ours,
and, producing the act, he asked us what meaning we
attached to such and such clauses. In fact, as a lawyer
in Bangalore observed, there was litigation in every line
of it. As for the unfortunate natives in the districts,
they had never, it seems, even heard of the act. A
2 O2 BA/B ERP.
Superintendent of one of the divisions communicated this
fact to the Registrar-General, and told him that, from
failing to register, there was now hardly a person who
had legalised any documents in his district. The reply
was simply that the Act had been duly published in the
Gazette, and that ignorantia juris non excusat.*
Equally ignorant, too, are the people of the existence
of acts which are entirely suitable to their tastes and
habits, and to the general requirements of the country.
Some years ago an excellent order was passed in the
Mysore province, with the view of encouraging the
formation of plantations of timber trees throughout the
plains of the table-land. Land was to be granted on
… the most favourable terms, and every possible encourage-
ment was thought of; but, as no means existed for the
diffusion of information, the act remained unknown to
those who would gladly have availed themselves of the
opportunities it afforded. When travelling from Mun-
zerabad to Bangalore in 1867, I observed that a copy
of the order was posted up in the travellers’ bungalow,
and, in the course of a conversation with the farmer who
supplied bullocks to drag my coach to the next posting
stage, I learned that he had never heard of any such
order at all. I happened to fall into conversation with
him more particularly, because he was an unusually
intelligent, well-dressed, well-to-do-looking man. He
told me that he was very fond of planting trees, that he
had planted a good many of different kinds in his own
land, and that he would only have been too glad to take
up land for planting, had he known that it was to be
had on the terms offered by Government. And if such
* This sounds so like a joke that I must tell the reader that this reply has
been printed in one of the Administration Reports. See Appendix A.
IWADEQUATE PUBLICATION OF EVACTMEWTS. 203
ignorance prevails amongst people living close to a
high-road, what must be the case with those who live in
the remoter villages? Nor need we be at all surprised
to find the commissioner of the provinces observing, in
his Annual Report, that the favourable terms offered had
entirely failed to induce any one to take up land for the
formation of plantations. For the fact of the matter is,
that orders and acts are published in the Gazette, copies
are posted up in the court of each country town, and at
the travellers’ bungalows, where no one is likely to see
them, and there the publication ends.
It may seem to the reader that I have travelled con-
siderably away from the subject I am now principally
concerned with. But the subject of the diffusion, or
rather of the want of diffusion, of information, is inti-
mately connected with bribery, which thrives all the
more on account of the ignorance of the people as regards
the laws and regulations issued by Government. And it
is evidently the interest of the native officials to suppress
rather than to diffuse information ; for complication and
confusion are things which litigation thrives best on,
and it therefore follows that new and complicated enact-
ments, combined with inadequate publication, make up
exactly that combination which is so admirably adapted
to the wants and requirements of the official Hindoo.
I have said that the cause of failure is the want of
information, and we have now seen the effects of the
absence of any channel of communication leading from
the Government to the people. But if the evils arising
from the want of means for disseminating information
amongst the ruled are conspicuous, the evils of there
being no means by which the people can transmit their
wishes and opinions to the Government are, if possible,
2O4. AAIBAERP.
still more glaring. For it cannot be doubted that our
Indian rulers, being animated, as they always are, by
the best intentions, would have left unframed many a
law and many an enactment that now exists, and would
assuredly have governed the country in a way best
suited to the tastes and circumstances of the people.
As it is, their laws and regulations are a long way in
advance of the intelligence, as well as the social and
moral condition, of their subjects. And here, of course,
it is not at all absolutely essential that we should have
recourse to the evidences of experience, for the neces-
sary results of our legislation could be arrived at deduc-
tively with almost mathematical accuracy. But it is at
least satisfactory to have truths that can be arrived at
deductively confirmed and illustrated by the results of
experience, and it may not be out of place if I briefly
allude to the opinions arrived at in other parts of India.
The first opinion I have to notice is that of Sir Robert
Montgomery, from whom the following passage is
quoted by Major Evans Bell, in his work of “Our Great
Vassal Empire.” Says Sir Robert:—
“Our judicial system is most unpopular, with its long
delays, its niceties, and complicated system and legal
technicalities, and is very costly. It has been pre-
maturely raised to a standard suited to European re-
quirements, and uncongenial to the people, whose simple
idea of justice is, that it should be prompt, cheap, and
vigorous.” And again: “Another cause of popular
dissatisfaction is our constant call for witnesses from
their remote homes, their delay and their scant compen-
sation, or often no compensation at all.” Turning next
to the opinion of Mr. H. L. Ashburne, we are told that—
“On the frontier of an ill-governed native state, where
A V/AES OF OUR ADA///V/STRA 7/OM. 2O5
the people are brought more immediately in contact with
oppression and misgovernment, our system may have its
advocates; but even there, for every instance of in-
security of life and property, the Patels will quote
equally distressing cases of respectable families im-
poverished and ruined by the action of our civil courts,
or of notorious murderers let loose on society owing to
some legal quibble. Not understanding the stringency
of our rules of evidence, they attribute these failures of
justice, which are ever becoming more common, to
the corruption of the judges.” Finally, on the high
authority of Mr. C. H. Tucker, we are told that—
“Our involved system of technical law leads to endless
expense and uncertain litigation, and all these evils
are on the increase. Our whole system of law, and
government, and education tends to make the natives
clever, irreligious, and litigious. No man can trust
another. Formerly a verbal promise was as good as a
bond. Then bonds became necessary. Now bonds go
for nothing, and no prudent banker will lend money
without receiving landed property in pledge.”
Leaving these conclusions to speak for themselves,
I now pass on to offer a few observations which are the
result of my own experience. And though that expe-
rience has no official authority, it may, considering my
opportunities of observation, be regarded as of some
value. For I had ample opportunity of observing the
working of a Government which was maintained almost,
if not quite, on a native model, and I had afterwards an
opportunity of observing the effects of the introduction
of our regular Anglo-Indian system. For, when I
entered Mysore in 1855, I found Sir Mark Cubbon at
the head of affairs, and the administration of the province
2 of AAAAACA’ F’.
was advisedly administered in such a way as might
easily admit of it being again handed over to a Hindoo
ruler. In fact, the whole administration may be said to
have been a native one, with the addition—and a very
important one of course it was—of two European officials
at the head of each of the four divisions into which the
province was then divided. On the retirement of Sir
Mark Cubbon in 1861, what was called the new régime
was introduced by Mr. L. Bowring.” And here the
reader need not be alarmed. I am too well aware of the
horror that most people have of information in general,
and Indian information in particular, to venture into
any details, into any figures, or into the smallest morsel
of statistics. And as for all these things, are they not
written in the Administration Reports of Mysore—
Reports which many men labour to fill, but which no
one reads—Reports which any one may take his fill of
who cares to visit the library at the India Offices at
Westminster ? But what was the general result 2 Well,
shortly, the revenue under the new régime remained
almost stationary, while the expenses of the administra-
tion were nearly doubled. The top of the pyramid, it
is true, was heightened, but its base was not widened.
The native heads of counties, who decide about half the
C3SGS that come before the courts, and whose influence
for good or evil is greater than that of all the officials in
the province put together, were still of the same corrupt
and greedy class. The heads of parishes, too, whose
influence in cases is very considerable, remained un-
changed. Their temptations were as great, and even
greater than before, while their salaries were but little,
if at all, augmented. The reforms which, to have been
* See Appendix A.
Al/PSOA&E UAV D/E/C A/A’. BO WR/VG. 207
of the slightest value, should have commenced with the
last-named classes, commenced at the other end; the
appellate courts were improved, the rules of evidence
were, perhaps, more rigidly based on the English model,
the reign of Report and Return writing set in with extra-
ordinary vigour, and the number of highly-paid English
officials was largely increased. And what, it will natu-
rally be asked, was the result as regards the tax-payers
—the farmers of the country 2 What return did they
get from this method of spending their money? Were
they better ? Were they happier P Was corruption
lessened 2 Was life made more easy, or in any way
more agreeable 2. As far as fell within my own eye, the
people were neither better nor happier. Corruption
enormously increased. Law was shot down by the cart-
load, lawyers packed up their portmanteaus and started
for Bangalore, and the bewildered people hardly knew
what was going to happen next. And what made the
failure additionally vexatious was that reforms were
really needed, but that, when they arrived, they were
far in advance of the intelligence and the necessities
of the people. To take, for instance, the Registration
Act previously alluded to. It would have been difficult
to conceive an act that was more necessary, or one from
which more beneficial effects could possibly accrue. And
if that act had been introduced gradually, neither con-
fusion nor annoyance could possibly have arisen from it.
But the very appearance of “The Registration Manual
for Mysore and Coorg,” which is now lying on my
table, is enough to strike any one with dismay, and
I cannot give a better general idea of it than by inform-
ing the reader that it consists of 137 pages, with thirty-
four lines to a page, and from ten to twelve words to a
2O8 AAAAAA’ P.
line. There are provisions for instruments of which the
registration is compulsory, for documents of which the
registration is optional, for documents in language not
understood by the registering officer, for documents con-
taining interlineations, blanks, erasures, or alterations;
and, in order that a person ignorant of the law might
be the more effectually taken by surprise, it is enacted
that in many of the cases where the registration is op-
tional, a registered shall take effect against an unregis-
tered document. In short, the whole act is one that
would perhaps be admirably suited to a country where
every man’s affairs are in the hands of his legal adviser,
and where newspapers are to be found in every village
to remind people of what they are or are not to do;
but to shoot down such an act into a province like
Mysore, or, indeed, into any part of India, is an inflic-
tion which of itself more than counterbalances all
the petty evils and oppressions of a native state. But
enough has now been said to illustrate what I mean
by the evils of our system, and opinions from all parts
of India amply confirm the conclusions I have come
to as to the failure of Government to accomplish the
ends it has had in view.”
* If any English statesman wants to comprehend the history of Indian mis-
government; and if any one wishes, in especial, to understand how the greatest
financial prosperity and general contentment can be turned in a few short years
into a state of things bordering on financial difficulties and general uneasiness,
he has only to compare Mysore as it was under Sir Mark Cubbon with the state
of that province at the present moment. When Sir Mark Cubbon left office he
handed over to his successor a treasury with a clear surplus of between half and
three-quarters of a million, which he had saved out of the revenues of the pro-
vince. A portion of this sum has since been expended in paying the late rajah's
debts, and £300,000 was invested in Government funds. How much of that
sum has been encroached upon since, I am not in a position to state, but I am
informed on the best authority that for the last year or two the government of
Mysore has had some difficulty in making its receipts balance its payments.
When we come to inquire what Sir Mark Cubbon was so carefully saving up
. money for, we shall at once see the difference between Indian statesmanship and
SIR MARK CUB BOV'S ADMINISTRATION. 209
To revert for one moment to this Registration Act. I
may remind the reader that I have before said that this
act would have been extremely beneficial had it been
gradually introduced; and it may be as well to explain
what I mean by gradually introducing a law of this
kind. In the first place, then, I should have deemed it
advisable to familiarise the people with the principle of
registration, and with that view I would have selected,
say, all documents relating to the transfer of land, and
would have had them compulsorily registered; and after
a period of, say, six or seven years, I would have extended
the order to another, or to several more classes of docu-
ments, but only moving so fast as to make sure that a
thorough knowledge of the law should accompany its
extension. An act might thus be built up by degrees,
and in accordance with the wants and intelligence of the
people, and all the injustice and rascality arising from
the sudden introduction of new enactments might thus,
I conceive, be in a great measure, if not entirely,
avoided.
Before proceeding to point out measures for the
removal of the causes of bribery and the diffusion of
what may be called Indian departmentalism—between a regard to the true
interests of the people and a regard to those flimsy attempts at reform which
merely scratch up the surface, and squander the resources of the State. Now, I
wish it to be clearly understood that I am not speaking by guess and report,
but that I am quoting the direct evidence of a gentleman with whom Sir Mark
had intimate official and friendly relations, when I state that his favourite object
in money-saving was the execution of two large irrigation works, which would
have brought in an immense profit to the State. He saw very clearly that the
true foundations for the safety of life, the prosperity of the people, and the success
of the administration, lay in water, and water, and yet more water. Those who
came after thought that the secret of government lay in departments, and depart-
ments, and yet more departments. (See Appendix B.)
I am quite aware that Sir Mark's government had its defects, but they were
mainly defects which must always exist all over India, and which are unavoidable
where you must employ petty native officials. The points to be kept steadily in
view are, that Sir Mark's reign was popular, and financially successful.
VOL. I. P
2 I O - A RAAEAP."
information amongst the people, I think it may be useful
to review, as briefly as possible, at least a portion of the
ground we have traversed.
In considering, then, bribery in general, we have
glanced at its existence in Russia and in England. We
have seen that in all parts of the world where dishonesty
pays, dishonesty will prevail; that dishonesty as regards
bribery is perfectly compatible with an honourable
private character, but that its natural tendency is to
develop indifference to truth, general cunning, and a
cautious reticence. Pointing out the development of
the last quality, we have seen the difficulty that even
those who have the best opportunities of observation
experience in ascertaining what is going on amongst
the people around. Two instances have been given as
examples of the operation of bribery; and it has been
pointed out that, even without any evidence, a con-
sideration of the antecedents and circumstances of a
people would enable any one to conclude deductively
that the evils alluded to must exist. We have seen how
the want of a channel of intercommunication between
the people and the Government has prevented the former
from making known their wants, and the latter from
comprehending the operation of its enactments. We
have seen that though various means have been adopted
for the furtherance of pure and speedy justice, the
remedies have been addressed to the symptoms rather
than the source of the disease. And, finally, glancing
at the nature of these remedies, we have seen that, with
the best intentions, their tendency is to increase rather
than to diminish the causes of bribery.
If the preceding observations are as well founded as I
believe them to be, it is plain that any one who takes an
IMAROA'7"AAWCAE OF AZMOV/WG CA USAES OF. 2 I I
interest in improving the character and increasing the
happiness of the peoples of India should, in the first
instance, direct his attention to cutting off the source of
bribery. Eradicate that, and you will eradicate, I
believe, the source of all the lies, all the rascality, all
that lures on the stronger to oppress the weaker, all the
opportunities for the gratification of private spite and
the temptations to illicit gain. These may seem to be
extravagant assertions, but I believe they are such as
can readily be proved. For, if it can be shown that in
the private relations of life, and in spite of the contami-
nation caused by familiarity with deceit, these people
amongst whom I have lived are honest and trustworthy,
and obliging, good, kindly neighbours, it is plain that,
were they not supplied with powerful temptations to
act in opposition to their natural instincts, they would
exhibit in every respect the good qualities I have found
them to possess in their private dealings. Supposing,
then, that I was sent to an Indian Parliament as
the representative of Munzerabad, before everything—
before roads, before education, before the introduction
of means for conserving health and curing disease, before
every other measure which might be needed for the
advancement of the people—I should feel it my duty
first of all to direct my attention to the removal of the
causes of bribery; or, in other words, to the securing of
cheap, pure, and speedy administration of all the trans-
actions which require the intervention of a Government
officer. I should urge that, to start on the path of
progress with a firm and enduring base, you must com-
mence with those reforms which are not only necessary
to the present happiness and comfort of the people, but
which may tend to produce in them that solidity and
P 2
2 I 2 - - AACAAR EAP :
uprightness of character without which our civilisation
in India must ever be, however splendid, but a poor and
imperfect fabric. Our roads, our railways, our hospitals,
and our irrigation works are splendid signs of civilisation;
they are magnificent monuments of the indomitable
energy of our race. But all the experience of other
nations shows us that nothing can effect permanent good
unless the stability of the character of the people is first
of all established. That being given, they will rise,
slowly it may be, but surely ; for the progress being
accompanied with an improvement within, we should, by
creating an improved national character, provide the
natives with something better than merely the external
work of energetic men. We should provide them with a
prosperity which nothing will ever be able to shake, and
eventually with a civilisation which, if not equal to our
own, would in all probability be at least a tolerable
imitation of it. The eye stretches forward vainly to fix
a point or date when such a state of things could possibly
come to pass, even if all the reforms which human fore-
sight could devise were this moment brought about.
But because the harvest may not be reaped for genera-
tions and generations, we must not therefore falter in
the work; but, taking a wide and comprehensive view,
we should adapt our policy, not only to the present and
material welfare of the people, but to providing them
with the means of eventually governing themselves.
Unless our policy tends to that end our labour will have
been in vain, and the history of India must one day be,
in some respects at least, merely a repetition of the
history of Spain.” In that unfortunate country every-
* Wide Buckle's “History of Civilization.” It should be added that to this
work I am largely indebted.
ITS REMOVAL AVECESSAAP TO CIVILISATION. 213
thing was done that could be done by the hands of able
rulers; but when they died and were replaced by incom-
petent and feeble men, the national fabric fell to pieces
as easily as one of those houses which children build
with cards. And if ever (and who can affirm that such
may not one day be the case ?) we are driven from India,
the fabric we have built up there will fall as easily.
What I have just been stating is nothing new, and must
have been foreseen by every one who has thought for one
moment on the subject; but, notwithstanding, I have
not yet met with any well-defined scheme for effecting
such an alteration in the character of the people as will
eventually lead to a solid civilisation. We may talk to
them, we may preach to them, we may instruct them,
we may tell them of the advantages of integrity; we
may pierce the country in every direction with roads, and
cover it with railways, canals, and irrigation works; we
may construct schools of art, open museums, advance
learning, build hospitals; we may pass law after law,
and pile act upon act, for the benefit of the people and
the furtherance of justice; we may fill the upper ranks
of the civil service with educated natives; we may do
all these things, and add to them all the resources that
art and science can command, and yet we shall assuredly
find that we shall not have moved the national character
one hair's breadth from the point we found it. We
shall have secured everything but the character of the
people, and that will have remained stationary, in con-
sequence of our having commenced with the crowning
points instead of the base of civilisation.
Pſitherto our road has been clear. We have seen
what, above all things, India requires, and we have
seen pretty clearly that our policy can never satisfy her
214. - AAIBAEA&P :
natural demands. It is easy to find fault; it is not diffi-
cult to indicate what is needed; but when I come to
consider the methods of remedy, I am filled with doubt,
not as to the effects of what I am about to propose, but as
to whether better and speedier remedies are not to be
found. I cannot, and of course I do not, expect that
the suggestions of an obscure individual like myself will
meet with much, if any, attention. To offer, indeed,
any suggestions at all may seem to many presumptuous;
and, with reference to men of Indian experience espe-
cially, I feel like a layman in the dark ages who should
dare to offer an opinion on ecclesiastical matters. But
in these days no man who is in earnest need have any
fear of being thought presumptuous by sensible men.
The evidence of every witness is worthy of examination.
The smallest of people may throw light on a subject,
and the expression of their thoughts can at least do
no harm. But, independently of these considerations, I
boldly assert my right to attention. I have lived
amongst these people ; I feel sure we understood one
another ; I have heard the freest expression of their
feelings; I know their wants; they were my society;
amongst them I had many friends; and, looking back
upon my intercourse with the people with feelings at
once of pleasure and regret, I feel that I should be
ungrateful to men who made my jungle-life a pleasant
one if I failed to urge, by every possible means, those
reforms which I conceive would be to them of the
greatest benefit.
At the commencement of this chapter I defined bribery
as a system by which the officials of the State aug-
ment inadequate salaries by a direct tax on those who
are unfortunately compelled to call in the action of
AVO USAE ZAV A UGMENT/AWG SA/LAA’/ES. 2 I 5
the law, or who happen to be involved in any trans-
action where the action of a Government officer can
possibly be brought to bear. At first sight it might,
therefore, seem that adequate salaries would at Once
remove that bribery and corruption which are absolutely
indispensable where the salaries are insufficient to keep
body and soul together. But chronic sores of long
standing are not thus to be got rid of; and I may
remind the reader that in Russia the experiment of
augmented salaries tended to no useful end, and that
the effect was found to result, not in an increase of
honesty, but in an increase of luxury and extravagance,
on the part of the officials. Nor are repressive measures
of much more value where, in any line of life, bribery
has become thoroughly naturalised. And of this we
have an excellent example in the history of English
elections. In the last elections more money was spent
than ever, and the severe sentences that have subse-
quently been passed on some of the agents employed
will merely result in making bribery more expensive,
and throwing it into the hands of a lower class of vote-
purchasers. We must, then, at once dismiss the idea
that either augmented salaries or repressive measures
can ever, by themselves, be of the slightest practical
value as regards bribery and corruption in India. And
here I am almost inclined to throw down my pen in
despair; for, with our accursed English law and English
system, we have got the country into such a muddle; we
have so increased the facilities for bribery and corruption,
by multiplying unnecessarily the occasions for the inter-
ference of native officials; we have so weakened our powers
of supervision by that horrible vice of Report and Return
writing which now chains our civil servants to the desk
2 I 6 AR/B ERP :
from morning to night;" we have given, in short, by all
these, and by every other conceivable method, such an
impetus to bribery and corruption, that even to think of
attempting to effect any reform as regards this huge
social canker is enough to turn one sick. I shall, there-
fore, get rid of the remainder of this chapter as fast as
possible, and weary myself and the reader (if, indeed,
a reader can be found for such a subject) no longer
with remarks which will no more affect our Indian
rulers than, to borrow from Sydney Smith, stroking
the dome of St. Paul’s would affect the Dean and
Chapter.
What I have to propose with the view of cutting off,
or at least of materially diminishing, the causes of
bribery, I now proceed to state as briefly as possible.
These projected remedial measues are:—
1. The invariable employment of a punchayet,t to be
selected from men of the locality.
2. The settlement of each case locally and speedily.
3. An alteration in our English law of evidence.
4. The raising of the pay and qualifications of amil-
dars, or law and revenue heads of counties; the regular
promotion of men who have been amildars; and, in
short, the holding out of every possible encouragement
to men of this position, who have more of real power
for good or evil than any in India.
5. The restriction of appeals to the court immediately
above the one which has tried each case.
6. The simplification of Government enactments,
* I read amongst the telegrams in the Asiatic, that “Reports, Returns, and
periodical statements show such a tendency to multiply, that the Viceroy has
requested all subordinate governments to consider how they might be kept in due
bounds.” -
+ An Indian punchayet may be generally described as a court of arbitrators,
usually consisting of five members,
A/EASURES AWOR D/M/AWISH//VG. 2 17
and their careful limitation to the wants and require-
ments of the people. -
7. The diffusion of information on every possible
subject.
As to the first measure, the value of Hindoo pun-
chayets * is so well known as the only method of arriv-
ing at a satisfactory result, and as being able to see
through all the windings and intricacies of complicated
cases, that it would be a mere waste of time to employ
arguments in favour of its universal application to all
cases, excepting, perhaps, those involving hanging crimes.
I may mention, however, that in Malcolm’s “Central
India” may be found particular evidence of their value;
and he especially calls attention to the fact that the
result was always satisfactory where any of the princes
and chiefs under British protection had disputes regard-
ing land or property. In no instance, he informs us,
was there any reason to suspect the punchayets of par-
tiality or corruption; in no instance was it necessary
to reverse the original decree; and many complaints
brought before the local officers were at once withdrawn
when submitted to a punchayet. And this seemed to
show conclusively that punchayets prevent litigation,
as no one would proceed with a case in which he had no
confidence if he found that a punchayet was to be em-
ployed in deciding it. Wilks, also, was of opinion that
“the most accomplished European judge can never hope
to approach them in weighing the value of evidence;
but, with the finding of the native jury on his side, he is
freed from doubt and difficulty; he passes his sentence
with a full confidence in its justice.”f And as for myself,
* Wide vol. ii. chap. xiv.
f “The man who may be safely trusted for uniformly unfolding the whole
2 I 8 AAC/A3 EA&P.
I would willingly refer any dispute between myself and
my native neighbours to an arbitration punchayet; and
my manager in India has standing orders to refer any
case to a punchayet, as I feel sure that cases are thus
far more satisfactorily settled than by any of our courts.
The readiness with which a punchayet proceeds to work,
and the methodical way it cross-examines witnesses, are,
even amongst the apparently rude farmers, very remark-
able. But I need not trouble the reader with further
remarks on this well-known and valuable institution.
As to the settlement of each case locally and speedily
I need not here enlarge, as the reasons for both are
sufficiently obvious. In the first instance, a witness,
in giving evidence before the whole of his society, has
at once moral pressure and moral support. If he is
inclined to bear false witness, the fact of many men
being present who are acquainted with the main facts
of the case will make him cautious in committing
himself. If he is a timid witness who may be brow-
beaten, the presence of his friends will be of material
service. From my own observation (and this is amply
confirmed by the opinions of others), the natives are
very deficient in moral courage. They are easily led
truth to a European in whom he has confidence, may be expected to equivocate,
and even to contradict every word he has said, if called upon to repeat it in pre-
sence of a third person whom he either fears or suspects, and in one of these
descriptions he usually includes all st: angers. The same individual, who from
fright, and often without any intelligible motive, will perjure himself without
shame or compunction at a public trial, is faithful, kind, and respectable in the
intercourse of ordinary society. . . . The more intimately they are known,
the more favourable is the judgment of every good and humane European on the
character of this interesting people; but fully to understand them requires to
have lived and been educated among them as one of themselves; and I con-
scientiously believe that for the purpose of discriminating the motives of action,
and the chances of truth in the evidence of such a people, the mature life of the
most acute and able European judge devoted to that single object would not
place him on a level with an intelligent Hindoo punchayet.”—Wilks.
A'WZZ,S OF CAV/L/M//Z'EVO AAA/A/L.S. 2 I 9
into making admissions when at a distance from their
friends, and the same man who might be a very satis-
factory witness in a case tried at his own village gate,
would perhaps be induced to say or deny anything if
the scene was shifted to a court ten miles off. Nor is
this weakness evinced alone amongst the poorest and
most ignorant; for I have met with instances of this
deficiency amongst the most intelligent and affluent
members of the community. As to the settlement of
each case speedily little need be said; for not only does
the lapse of time weaken the precise recollection of
events, but it adds to the facilities for the bribing,
threatening, and persuading of witnesses.
As regards the third measure I have suggested as
advisable, it is plain that our system in India should be
an imitation of the French, rather than our method of
regulating the examination of witnesses and of accused
persons. And even in this country people are beginning
to think that, if the French have erred on one side, and
have generally exhibited the unseemly spectacle of
what often closely resembles a personal contest between
the judge and the accused, we, on the other hand, have
gone too far in the opposite direction, and so have caused
numerous failures of justice.
The fourth point requires, I conceive, no comment.
On the fifth I may observe that it is hardly possible
to exaggerate the evils that have been caused by appeals
and appeals, which only prolong litigation, and are
more likely to lead to injustice than anything it is
possible to conceive. For it is perfectly certain that if
the conclusions of those nearest to the scene of events are
not flagrantly unjust, they are more likely to be correct
22 O PR/AEAERP.
than any opinions that may subsequently be arrived at
by the most competent court in India.”
As to the sixth measure I pointed out, sufficient
evidence has been given in this chapter as to the
advisability of simplifying Government enactments, and
carefully limiting them to the wants and requirements
of the people; and enough, too, has been said to show
the necessity of providing methods for diffusing informa-
tion amongst the natives in the rural districts. And the
reader will find, in the chapter on Education, a method
suggested for the diffusion of information, which, in the
absence of newspapers, or rather, I should say, in the
absence of ability to read, is the only one that is, I
think, at all feasible.
* But one of the worst features in this appeal system is the encouragement it
gives to the notion that suits are not reversed for nothing. Mr. H. L. Ashbourne,
whose opinion was previously quoted, said that the natives attributed the
numerous failures of justice to the corruption of the English judges, and there
can be very little doubt of the truth of this remark. Natives are naturally shy
in expressing opinions to Europeans; but I may mention, however, that I once
asked a Brahmin, who, though not an official himself, had relatives in the courts,
as to what the people thought on the subject. He hummed and hawed, and at
length replied that he didn't know, but that it was always observed that most of
the European officials had a favourite amongst the minor native officials.
Major Chesney, in his valuable work entitled “Indian Polity,” while
expressing an opinion that “a free right of appeal is absolutely necessary to
insure the suitor a reasonable chance of obtaining a remedy,” points out very
plainly that “the exercise of this right, and the complicated procedure enjoined
by the regulations, render Indian lawsuits extraordinarily protracted and
expensive; and,” he continues, “it would be difficult to say whether the litigious
character now manifested by the people in those parts of India where British
Jaw courts are established is a cause or an effect of those institutions. Certainly
the apparently capricious way in which the judgments of each court often appear
to be upset by the next, which renders the final issue of a lawsuit a matter of -
uncertainty until the highest court of appeal is reached, in a degree unknown in
any other country in the world, is calculated to promote a spirit of reckless
gambling in law among a people to whom most kinds of excitement are not
available. At any rate, if the Indian system of appeal was favourable to the
rich suitor, who failed to obtain justice in the first trial, it as often as not barred
the road to justice against the poor man, who practically was without a remedy
at law until the late introduction of the small-cause courts.” These courts
admit of no appeal except in some special cases and under certain narrow condi-
tions; and, as Major Chesney observes, these courts are “one of the greatest
blessings which modern legislation has conferred upon the country.
OUR WORK PZWG SP'STEM OF GOVERAV/AWG. 22 I
Some years ago a gentleman in the Educational
Department told me that, being desirous of ascertaining
what the natives thought of the English, he asked and re-
asked one of the pupils in the school at Bangalore what
the people thought of our countrymen. For a long time
he could get no definite answer; but at last the answer
came, and it was this—“Well, we think you are like the
monkeys in the tope’’ (clump of trees), “and we don’t
know what you are going to do next.” And the natives
think much the same of our worrying,” unpopular, un-
comfortable ways of governing, and they don’t know
what we are going to do next, and no one has ever
thought of asking the wearer where the shoe pinches,
and—there is no more to be said.
* We see every day that one man who is a fine horseman, and who has what
is called good hands on a horse, will not only get on far better, and have a far
quieter time of it, but will get far more out of the horse, and part from it on far
better terms, than an unskilful rider. Now, Indian governors have simply no
hands; and just as you cannot make a blockhead of a horseman understand what
it is that makes a horse go quietly with you while it is always worried by him,
so it is vain to try and show our Indian governors how it is that they worry the
people. An unskilful rider is an unskilful one mainly because he neglects, or
fails to study, or has no ability to study, a number of trifling movements; and
that is just the reason why our Indian governors fail: they not only don’t get
as much out of their horse as a skilful rider would, but they worry the animal
into the bargain. Here, for instance, is one of these trifles. The natives of
Munzerabad use a covering composed of wicker-work and leaves to protect them
from the wet during the rainy season of the year. These coverings cost once
about låd., and though their saleable value has now gone up to about 6d., the
natives generally can provide themselves at a much cheaper rate. Now, the
leaves are the produce of a reed-like plant that grows in swampy ground, and
the wicker-work is made out of a sort of thin bamboo (watee), which is common
throughout the Western Ghauts. For generations the natives who wanted such
covering had procured these materials from the nearest jungle. But the jungles,
in which these common rights have from time immemorial been exercised, are
now declared to be the exclusive property of the Forest Department; and I have
lately been informed that the watees are, for the future, to be sold to those who
require those humble coverings. Now, from my intimate knowledge of the
people, I confidently assert that you might have raised the land assessment all
over the country without producing one-half of the unpopularity that a measure
of this kind invariably causes. But the time is sure to come when the unskilful
rider will find out what good hands on a horse means.
CHAPTER WI.
CASTE.
IN Krilof’s fable of “The Peasant and the Horse,”
the latter murmurs at the way his master throws oats
broadcast on the soil. How much better, argues the
horse, it would have been to have kept them in his
granary, or even to have given them me to eat But
the Oats grew, and in due time are garnered, and from
them the same horse is fed the year following. The
horse, as we have seen, was unable to comprehend the
working and the meaning of his master's acts; and, in
the same way, we often see that man equally fails to
comprehend the nature and effect of things around him.
And thus it is, and for long has been, as regards the
institution I am now about to consider. People in
general have ignorantly murmured at the institution of
caste; and having ever looked at it with highly-civilised
spectacles, and having seen especially a number of the
inconveniences it has caused to the educated population
of the towns, it has been argued that caste is the curse
of all India. But it seems to me that an attentive,
unprejudiced examination tends to prove that in former
times it was exactly the reverse, and that at the present
moment, as far as all the ignorant rural population is
concerned, it may be considered, with reference to the
CASTE VA LUAAPL E 7"O RURAL POPULATION.S. 223
state of the people, as a valuable and useful institu-
tion. .
And here, at the outset, I wish it to be clearly under-
stood that an immense divergence has taken place
between the town and country populations of India.
The former have advanced with rapid strides on the
paths of enlightenment and progress, while the latter,
it is hardly too much to say, have remained almost
universally stationary. To argue, therefore, from one to
the other is not only impossible, but absurd ; and it is
merely a waste of time to point out, at any length, that
what may be admirably suited to one set of people may
be a positive nuisance to another. With reference,
then, to this question of caste, instead of treating India
as a whole, I shall divide it into town and country
populations. In the first place, I shall treat of the
effects of caste on the country populations, amongst
whom I have lived; and, in the second place, I shall
offer some considerations regarding the effects of the
institution amongst the people of the towns.
And, first of all, as to its effects on the rural
population.
In these observations on caste I shall not commence
with any attempt to trace its origin, nor shall I endea-
VOur to enumerate the countless forms it has assumed
amongst the peoples of the great peninsula. My aim is
to direct the attention of the reader not to the dry bones
of its history so much as to the living effects of the
institution. It is certainly a matter of interest to know
something of the peculiar customs of the various tribes
and races; but it is to be regretted that people generally
have rested content with information of that sort, and
have seldom attempted to investigate those points which
224. CASTE :
are, I conceive, mainly of use and interest. What
Indians may or may not do—what they may eat, what
they may drink, and what clothing they may put on—
are not matters on which inquirers should bestow much
time. The information most needed, and which has not
yet, or only in the most imperfect sense, been acquired,
is as to what caste has done for good or evil. It shall
be my endeavour to solve that question; and I imagine
the solution would be in a great measure effected if I
could, in the first instance, answer satisfactorily the
following questions:—
1. How far has caste acted as a moral restraint
amongst the Indians themselves?
2. How far advantageously or the reverse in segre-
gating them socially from the conquerors who have
overrun their country P -
On the first of these points I may observe, without
the slightest exaggeration, that very few of our country-
men indeed have had such opportunities as myself of
forming a correct opinion; for very few Englishmen have
been so entirely dependent on a native population for
society. For the first four or five years of my residence
in Munzerabad there were only three Europeans besides
myself, and we were all about twelve miles apart. The
natural consequence was that the farmers of the country
were my sole companions; and, as I joined in their
sports and had some of them always about me, terms
of intimacy sprang up which never could have existed
under any other circumstances. And further, when it
is taken into consideration that I have employed the
poorer of the better castes in various capacities on my
estates, and a large number of the Pariahs, or labourer
caste, it seems pretty clear that I ought to be a tolerably
ITS MORAL EFFECTS OW THE PEASAAWTRP. 22.5
competent judge as to whether caste did or did not
exercise a favourable influence on the morals of the
people. Now, as regards one department of morals, at
least, I unhesitatingly affirm that it did, and that, as
regards the connection of the sexes, it would be difficult
to find in any part of the world a more moral people
than the two higher castes of Munzerabad, who form
about one-half of the population, and who may
be termed the farming proprietors of the country.
Amongst themselves, indeed, it was not to be wondered
at that their morality was extremely good, as, from the
fact of nearly every one being married at the age of
puberty, and partly, perhaps, from the fact of their
houses being more or less isolated, instead of being
grouped in villages, the temptations to immorality were
necessarily slight. Their temptations, though, as regards
the Pariahs, who were, when I entered Munzerabad,
merely hereditary serfs, were considerable; and there it
was that the value of caste law came in. Caste said, You
shall not touch these women; and so strong was this
law, that I never knew of but one instance of one of the
better classes offending with the Pariah women.” Some
aversion of race there might, no doubt, have been, but
the police of caste and its penalties were so strong that
he would be a bold man indeed who would venture to
run any risk of detection. To give an idea of how the
punishment for an offence of this kind would operate, it
may be added that, if one of the farming classes in this
country, on a case of seducing one of the lower, was
fined by his neighbours #500, and cut by society till
he paid the money, he would be in exactly the same
* And that, I may observe, was a case in which a tody-drawer, the third caste
in Munzerabad, was concerned.
WOL. I. Q
226 CA.S.T.E.'
position as a Munzerabad farmer would be who had
violated the important caste law under consideration.
Here, therefore, we have a moral police of tremendous
power, and the very best proof we have of the regu-
larity with which it has been enforced lies in the fact
that the Pariahs and the farmers are distinguished by
a form and physiognomy almost as distinct as those
existing between an Englishman and a negro. And,
with the view of showing the reader how great the
difference is, I have had the upper classes and Pariahs
engraved side by side. From the absence of colouring,
the difference is not, of course, nearly so apparent as it
would otherwise be, but it is sufficient to show the races
have been kept quite distinct; and I hardly think it
would be possible to find a Pariah who could be mis-
taken for one of the farmer class. Caste, then, as we
have seen, protects the poor from the passions of the
rich, and it equally protects the upper classes them-
selves, and enforcedly makes them more moral than,
judging from our experience in other quarters of the
globe, they would otherwise be.
Having thus briefly glanced at caste law, as control-
ling the connection of the sexes, let us now look at it
from another point of view, which I venture to think is,
as regards its ultimate consequences, of even still more
importance. If there is one vice more than another
which is productive of serious crime, it is the abuse of
alcohol; and there is no doubt that, to use the words of
an eminent statesman, “if we could subtract from the
ignorance, the poverty, the suffering, the sickness, and
the crime now witnessed among us, the ignorance, the
poverty, the sickness, and the crime caused by the single
vice of drinking, this country would be so changed for
AZS WAZ UAE WAV ZAZSSAAW/WG DA’/AWA WZVG. 227
the better that we should hardly know it again.”
Regarding it, then, in all its consequences, whether
physical or mental (and how many madmen and idiots
are there not bred by drinking?”), it is difficult to esti-
mate too highly the value of caste laws that utterly
prohibit the use of those strong drinks that are injurious
in any country, but are a thousand times more so under
the rays of a tropical sun. And when we come to con-
sider that one-fourth of the population of Munzerabad
are absolutely compelled to abstain from the use of
alcohol, and that these being the very best, or at least
equal to the very best, of the community, must always
have exercised a large influence in discouraging the
excessive use of intoxicating drinks, it is impossible
to refrain from coming to the conclusion that this
single fact is more than sufficient to counterbalance
all the evils that have ever been said to arise from
Caste.
On two very important points, then—the connection
of the sexes and the use of alcohol—it is evident that
caste laws have produced some very favourable and
valuable results; but I do not think we can accurately
gauge their value unless we compare the state of
morality existing in Munzerabad with the state of
morality existing in one of our home counties; and
the comparison I have to make, if not very soothing,
is, I am sure, very interesting. Take any one of our
counties in Great Britain, for instance, and compare
it with Munzerabad as regards the points I have par-
ticularly referred to, and it will be found that Mun-
zerabad has an immense Superiority. The crimes and
* I observe in the Administration Report for Mysore, 1867-68, that nearly all
the cases in the lunatic asylum were traced either to drinking or bhang-smoking.
Q 2
228 CASTE.
misery arising from drinking are hardly to be found
at all in Munzerabad, while the morality of the sexes,
I should think, could hardly be surpassed. Now, there
is nothing very surprising, considering that the people
in this country are so heavily weighted, that this should
be the case; on the contrary, it is the natural result
of the circumstances of their worldly situation. But,
supposing that the worldly situation as to the means of
support and the opportunities of marrying were equal,
it seems to me perfectly plain that the people who have
fifty per cent. of the better classes (one-fourth of the
population, it must be remembered) total abstairiers, and
who have their society so controlled that the rich cannot
gratify their passions at the expense of the poor, must
be in the possession of a superior morality.
It will be observed that I have said, any county in
Great Britain, and I say so to the exclusion of Ireland,
because I am informed that in that country the morality
of the sexes is a great deal better than in either
England or Scotland. I have no particular evidence
before me to show that this is the case, but it may be
inferred deductively with perfect accuracy, because the
interests of the priests are on the side of a large popula-
tion. The sentiment of sexual morality has, therefore,
been worked up for generations. Early marriages, and
consequently fewer temptations, naturally resulted.
Irregularities were naturally rarer, and those that did
occur, being without excuse, were severely condemned
by society, and it is certain must have been tremen-
dously censured by the priests. Hence, and aided, no
doubt, by the potato and small allotments, your Irish
virtue. And as neither machinery, nor causes of the
same sort existed in England or Scotland for the
WIDOWS WOT PROHIBITED FROM MARRPING. 229
improvement of this branch of morality, it is necessarily
inferior.”
Before closing this branch of the subject, I may allude
briefly to what has been so often attacked by the oppo-
nents of caste : I mean the prohibition of the marriage
of widows. This rule exists in Munzerabad, but I am
not aware that any great moral evil arises from it, as
a widow can always contract to live with a man, the
difference being that the ceremonies performed are of an
inferior kind. This is not allowed to be a marriage,
but, in fact, it is a marriage,t but of a kind held in very
low estimation. On customs like these, which in a
great measure neutralise the evils arising from the
restrictions on re-marriage, it seems to me that our
information is very scanty, and I am not aware how far
the practice alluded to prevails in other parts of India.
Having taken into consideration the advantages of
caste in acting as a moral restraint amongst the Indians
themselves, I now purpose to inquire how far caste has
acted advantageously, or the reverse, in segregating the
people socially from the conquerors who have overrun
their country.
If the advantages of caste are striking and plainly
apparent as regards the moral points I have alluded to,
they seem to me to be infinitely more so when we come
to consider the happy influence this institution has had
in segregating the Indians from the white races. And
* I have since been informed by a Scotch clergyman that the sexual morality
of the true Celtic Highlanders is very good, far superior to that existing in other
parts of Scotland. Many of these people are Roman Catholics, it may be observed.
My informant was at a loss in any way to account for the superior morality of
those who had become Protestants. Should these statements be well founded, it
would certainly be interesting to inquire why these people should be possessed
of a superior morality.
i See chap. ii. p.-84.
23O - CASTE.
here I cannot help indulging in a vain regret that the
blessings of caste have not been universally diffused
amongst all inferior races. How many of these has our
boasted civilisation improved off the face of the earth?
How much has that tide of civilisation which the first
conquerors invariably bring with them effected ? How
much, in other words, have their vice, rum, and gun-
powder helped to exterminate those unhappy races
which, unprotected by caste, have come in contact with
the white man 2 Nor in India itself are we altogether
without a well-marked instance of the value, for a
time at least, of an entire social separation between the
dark and white races; and the Todas, the lords of the
soil on the Neilgherry Hills, furnish us with a lament-
able example of what the absence of caste feeling is
capable of producing. We found them a simple pastoral
race, and the early visitors to the hills were struck with
their inoffensive manners, and what was falsely con-
sidered to be their greatest advantage—freedom from
caste associations. But what is their condition now 2
One of drunkenness, debauchery, and disease of the
most fatal description. Had the much-reviled caste law
been theirs, what a different result would have ensued
from their contact with Europeans ! Caste would have
saved them from alcohol, and their women from con-
tamination; they would thus have maintained their self-
respect; and if, at first, separation brought no progress
nor shadow of change, it would have at least induced no
evil, and education and enlightenment would in time
have modified these caste institutions which, to a super-
ficial observer, seem to be productive of nothing but
evil.
We have now seen that social contact with whites,
PALUE OF SEGREGATION FROM FOREIGN.E.R.S. 231
without any barrier between them and the inferior
races, is not, in a moral point of view, a very desirable
thing in any part of the world. But if there is a moral
consequence, we may also point to a mental One which
exercises an immense influence: I mean the overwhelm-
ing sense of inferiority which is so apt to depress caste-
less races. I believe, then, for Savages, or for people in
a low state of civilisation, it is of the greatest importance
that they should have points of difference which may
not only keep them socially apart, but which may
enable them to maintain some feeling of superiority
when coming in contact with highly-civilised races.
Nor is it necessary that the feeling of superiority should
be well founded. An imaginary superiority will, I be-
lieve, answer the purpose equally well. “We don’t
touch beef, nor would we touch food cooked by Eng-
lishmen or Pariahs,” seem but poor matters for self-
congratulation. But if these considerations prevent a
man from forming a poor opinion of himself, they should
be carefully cherished. On these points, at least, a
feeling of superiority is sustained, and therefore the
tendency to degradation is diminished. But if on all
points the white man makes his superiority felt, the
weaker people speedily acquire a thorough contempt for
themselves, and soon become careless of what they do,
or of what becomes of them. Their mental spring be-
comes fatally depressed, and this circumstance has pro-
bably more to do with the deterioration and extinction
of inferior races than most people would be inclined to
admit.* Nothing, then, I believe, chills the soul and
checks the progress of man so much as a hopeless sense
of inferiority; and, had I time, I might turn the atten-
* Wide Sproat's “Studies of Savage Life.”
232 CASTE".'
tion of the reader to the universality of this law, and
to the numerous instances that have been collected to
prove the depressing and injurious effects that even
nature, on a grand and overwhelming scale, seems to
exercise on the mind and spirit of man—how it makes
him timid, credulous, and superstitious, and produces
effects which retard his progress. But to advance fur-
ther on this point, however interesting it may be, would
only tend to distract the attention of the reader from the
subject with which we are mainly concerned.
If the remarks hitherto made are of any value, they
undoubtedly tend to prove that all inferior races have a
tendency, in the first instance, to adopt the vices rather
than the virtues of the more civilised races they may
come in contact with. Assuming then, as I think
we have every right to do, that this statement is
universally true, it is evident that the social separation
maintained by caste has been of incalculable advantage.
On the other hand, however, a number of disadvantages
have been indicated by various writers; but only one of
these seems to me at all worthy of serious attention. It
has been asserted that this segregation has impeded
advancement, that it has prevented the Indians learning
as much from us as they otherwise might, and that it
has impeded the mainspring of all advancement—educa-
tion. Here, I apprehend, the argument against caste,
as far as rural populations are concerned, utterly fails,
and, in a province contiguous to my own, a most signal
instance to the contrary can be pointed to. Few people
have more proudly segregated themselves than the
Coorgs; nowhere is the chastity of women more jealously
guarded; and yet they were the first people in India
who desired and petitioned for female education. And
OF AVO VALUE /V THE TOWNS. 233
how, then, can it be for one moment asserted that the
tendency of caste is to check the progress of the people?
Having thus glanced at some of the effects of
caste institutions as they affect the rural population,
we will now consider caste as it affects the people
of the towns. Following, then, the same order, and
directing our attention to the same points selected for
consideration when treating of the rural classes, let us
ask how far caste has operated with the townspeople
as regards the connection of the sexes and the use
of alcohol. And here we shall find that the subject
may be dismissed in almost a single sentence; for caste
laws, as regards these points, can never act as a moral
restraint, because the possibility of enforcing them
cannot and does not exist. Nor need I waste time in
proving that people in towns, whether in India or any
other part of the world, may readily do things which
could never escape the prying eyes of a country society.
Then, as regards the segregation from foreigners, it is
evident that we need employ little time, for such of the
town populations as have maintained a fair state of
morality amid the evils of large cities are not likely to
be materially affected by the bad habits and customs of
the white races; and as for those who have never led a
steady life, it would not much matter with whom they
mixed. But caste not only brings with it no good as
far as the town population is concerned, but its continu-
ance is fraught with a multitude of painful and vexatious
evils, which meet us at every turn, for it hampers the
actions, and clogs those efforts at progress which are
the natural result of intellectual advancement. And
here I cannot do better than quote the words of a Parsee
gentleman, whose unceasing efforts to aid the progress
234. CAS7"E.’
of India entitle him to be placed in the very highest
rank of those who spend much time and labour to
produce effects which they can never live to see the
fruits of. These remarks of his which I am now about
to quote were made at the close of a paper on Caste
which I read at a meeting of the East India Association,
and are quoted from the report published in the journal
of the Association. After fully granting that, in the con-
dition of society existing at the time the system of caste
was established, it may have done a great deal of good,
Mr. Dadabhai Naoroji proceeded to remark on the way
the present system of caste interferes with progress
among the higher classes, and then gave several instances
to illustrate his observation.
“The great struggle,” he said, “which is now going
on in Bombay about the widow-marriage question is an
apt illustration of this; and, also, the fear of excom-
munication prevents a large body of natives from coming
to this country, and profiting by their visit. It is often
said, ‘Educated Hindoos ought not to care for this
excommunication;' but those who say that, little think
what excommunication means. A man who is excom-
municated may not care for it for his own sake, but he
has his family to consider. What is to be done with
daughters? They cannot marry if their father is excom-
municated, and the result is, therefore, most serious to
them. I knew of one instance of a native gentleman who,
being excommunicated from his caste for having visited
England, had, on the death of his child, been put to the
very painful necessity of having the body carried by his
servant, without any one accompanying him.”
It would be impossible, I think, to furnish two better
instances of the evils of caste to people desirous of
FVIZS OF AMOWGST A DVAWCED CLASSES. 235
shaking off in any way the habits of their forefathers;
and a more melancholy picture than that of this unfortu-
nate man setting out with his dead child without a single
friend to accompany him it would indeed be difficult to
find. Many other illustrations might, of course, be given;
but enough has been said already, and we may safely
consider it as a settled question that, as far as the people
of the towns are concerned, the sooner caste is abolished
the better.
In retracing the ground we have gone over, I may
remind the reader that we have considered the effects
of caste, as regards the country population, in two very
important particulars: first of all, as to the morality of
the sexes, which is controlled to such a large extent
by caste law ; and, secondly, we have looked at the
effects of caste as controlling the use of alcohol, and
consequently limiting the crimes and evils that can in
most countries be traced to drinking. On both of these
points we have compared an Indian county with any
county in Great Britain, and saw reason to think that
morality, as regards the points under consideration, is
better in Munzerabad than in any British county.
And, by facts which may be brought from many quarters
of the globe, we have seen that it is a universal law
that inferior races have a tendency to adopt the vices
rather than the virtues of superior races, and that, there-
fore, caste laws which enjoin social separation are of
the highest value. We have seen, too, the value of
caste in keeping up feelings of superiority and self-
respect. We have also seen that these caste laws can
exist without retarding the progress of the people, or
their desire for education. And, finally, taking all these
points into consideration, we concluded that there were no
236 CASTE.
drawbacks, and many striking advantages, connected with
caste as far as the country populations are concerned.
In the next place, we looked at the circumstances of
the people of the towns, inquired as to how caste has
affected them for good or evil, and came to the con-
clusion that not only does no good arise from caste, but
that it is plainly and unmistakably an unmitigated evil.
Reeping these conclusions firmly in mind, let us now
advance to the consideration of a third question, which
naturally arises out of those facts which I assume to
have been established.
That question is—How far has caste acted beneficially,
or the reverse, in helping to retard our interpretation of
Christianity? Pursuing the same order as before, let
us ask, in the first place, whether caste has, as regards
the country populations, acted beneficially in this as
well as in the other points we have looked at. But,
before attempting to answer this question, it may be as
well to offer a few general remarks which tend to show
that, independently of any question of caste, it is hope-
less to expect that any ignorant and generally un-
enlightened race can possibly derive any benefit from
adopting the formulas and dogmas of a pure faith.
To illustrate this old and well-established truth, let
us point to four of the many instances which may be
adduced as decisively confirming it—the history of
Christianity in Europe, of Islam amongst the Indian
Mahomedans, and the history of Christianity in Abys-
sinia and India. As to the first, to use the words of
Buckle, “after the new religion had received the homage
of the best part of Europe, it was found that nothing
had really been effected.” Superstition was merely
turned from one channel into another. The adoration
WORTHE ESSAVESS OF AMERE DOGMAS. 237
of idols was succeeded by the adoration of Saints, and
for centuries after Christianity had become the esta-
blished religion it entirely failed to produce its natural
fruits, because ignorance imperatively demanded super-
stition in some shape or other. To some it may seem,
at first sight, a curious circumstance that the same
remarks may be applied to the history of Maho-
medanism in India. The idols were broken, and the one
God declared. But how long was it before the people,
like the Israelites of old, fell away from the grand
central doctrine of Mahomedanism—the unity of God?
Bow long was it before the adoration of idols was
followed by the adoration of Saints? The exact coinci-
dence, however, is no more striking than that given
causes produce fixed results with an Eastern as well as
with a Western people. When we turn, thirdly, to Abys-
sinia, what do we find? How have the dogmas of
Christianity fared there 2 The Abyssinians did not rise
to the level of the dogmas and principles of Christianity
—that we all know. They simply reduced it to their
own level. Look, lastly, at our native Christians in
India. I believe it is quite certain that, in the general
opinion of Englishmen, they are, to say the least, very
far from being the best class in India; in fact, I do not
think it too much to say that most Europeans hold them
to be about the worst class of people in India. I confess
that I do not share this opinion altogether. The fact
probably is that, in consequence of their extreme igno-
rance and generally debased state, they are, in the rural
districts, neither better nor worse than the classes from
which they are principally drawn. In our cantonments,
however, and especially in those where European sol-
diery abounds, there is every probability of their being
238 CASTE.
Worse than the classes from which they have sprung;
and I have little doubt that the low estimation in which
the native Christians are held is owing to the fact that
our countrymen have generally come in contact with the
specimens that have been nurtured amidst the scum of
our Indian towns. Were we to believe the assertions
of our English missionaries, very different conclusions
would, of course, be arrived at ; but unless they can
show that the lowest and most ignorant classes of natives,
who from their habits, and from having nothing to lose,
are under great temptations, form an exception to all
specimens of humanity in other quarters of the globe,
I am afraid there can be little reason to doubt that the
opinions I have expressed are fairly correct. I doubt
very much, in fact, from my intimate knowledge of the
lower classes of natives, and it is from these, as I said
before, that our converts are mainly derived,—whether
they are capable of comprehending our religion at all.
Of one thing I think we may be quite certain, and that
is, that the moment the missionary's back is turned,
these people return to their devils in the event of any
danger or sickness arising. This might be arrived at de-
ductively with perfect accuracy, and arguing solely from
our knowledge of humanity under certain conditions;
but I may mention that in Ceylon instances of people
reverting to their devil-worship are common amongst
the native Christians, and instances might, no doubt, be
soon collected in India, if any one thought it worth the
trouble. While alluding to missionary assertions, I may
mention that the credulity of these gentlemen seems
only to be equalled by the credulity of the British
public. If they would only extend their belief in the
goodness of natives a little further, one might be
ATA 77 VE CAR/ST/AAVS. 239
tempted to sympathise with this amiable weakness.
But the peculiar part of their statements lies in the
fact that their converts have got all the virtue and
morality in India, while the respectable classes of the
community seem, by their account, to be very badly off
in these respects. The most curious instance, however,
of missionary credulity that I have met with is to be
found in the evidence of Mr. Underhill, given before
the Committee on Colonization (India) in 1859. And it
certainly is a surprising result of conversion to find that
the wives of the converts become not only more beau-
tiful, but also more fertile, than their heathen sisters.
Two heathen natives had been heard to testify to these
facts, and it is wonderful to observe the complacent air
of satisfaction with which these statements are accepted
by the witness, who added that “this difference evi-
dently arises from the more chaste and regular modes of
life in which they fall.”*
I have said that the native Christians are probably
neither better nor worse than the lower classes from
which they are drawn, and the painfully truthful remarks
given in the note below t seem to show that, whatever
* It may be observed here that there are few who know so little as to the
sexual morality of the people around them as clergymen. It does not become
them, of course, to enter into the gossip of the village, nor does any one care to
broach such subjects in the first instance ; and I may mention here that a
relative of my own, a clergyman in a country parish, told me that if anything
went wrong in these respects he was the very last person in the world to hear
one word about it. -
f The Abbé Dubois makes the following remarks:—“During the long
period I lived in India, in the capacity of a missionary, I have made, with the
assistance of a native missionary, in all between two and three hundred converts
of both sexes. Of this number two-thirds were Pariahs or beggars, and the rest
were composed of Sudras, vagrants, and outcasts of several tribes, who, being
without resources, turned Christians in order to form new connections, chiefly for
the purpose of marriage, or with some other interested motive. Among them are
also to be found some who believed themselves to be possessed with the devil, and
who turned Christians after having been assured that on receiving baptism the
unclean spirits would leave them and never return; and I will declare it with
24.O - CASTE".'
may be the case now (and I believe that the low-class
converts are somewhat better than they were then), the
converts to Christianity must have been originally a very
indifferent set of people. Christianity, however, if it
did not make these classes much better, at any rate made
them no worse. When we turn, however, to the middle-
class farmers, it is evident that to have converted them,
unless that conversion had been preceded by enlighten-
ment, and a more advanced civilisation than they had
hitherto enjoyed, would have inflicted on them an incal-
culable injury, by depriving them of restraints which,
as we have seen, are in some particulars of immense
importance. To become a Christian, the first thing
required of a man is that he should give up caste, and
deliver himself to the sole guidance of his conscience;
that he should give up a powerful and effective moral
restraint; that he should abandon a position which
carries with it feelings of self-respect and superiority,
and resign himself to the degrading reflection that he may
eat from the same platter and drink from the same vessel
as the filthiest Pariah ; and that this would be degrading
there can be little doubt. Were he an educated and
enlightened man, he would be sustained by feelings
which would raise him above the influence of such con-
siderations. But, in the absence of enlightenment, sad
would be his fate, and melancholy the deterioration that
would inevitably ensue. The way in which that de-
shame and confusion that I do not remember any one who may be said to have
embraced Christianity from conviction and from quite disinterested motives.
Among these new-comers many apostatised and relapsed into paganism, finding
that the Christian religion did not afford them the temporal advantages they had
looked for in embracing it ; and I am very ashamed that the resolution I have
taken to tell the whole truth on this subject forces me to make the humiliating
avowal that those who continued Christians are the very worst among my flock.”
–Dr. Allen’s “India,” p. 522.
Jº V/ZS OF A /3A.V/OO.V/AWG. 24. I
terioration would take place, the way in which he would
become careless of what he did, or of what became of
him, has been sufficiently indicated in the previous pages
of this chapter; and to give in detail the principal reasons
against a change of faith which involved the abolition of
caste, would only be to repeat what I have already said
as to the effect of the institution in controlling the morality
of the sexes and the use of alcohol. Not only, then, I
repeat, would a change of dogma be as unimproving and
superficial as changes of that sort always are with
unenlightened people, but a number of positive evils
would follow from the necessary abandonment of the
restrictions of caste; and we may therefore conclude
that, as regards the whole population, the effect of caste
in helping to prevent the adoption of our interpretation
of Christianity is of incalculable advantage.
When we turn to the town populations the case is
widely different. We have seen that for them the
practical advantages of caste can hardly be said to exist
at all, and therefore a change of religion which involved
its abolition would, as regards any part of the Society,
at least produce no evil. Here, at least, we are on safe
ground. But this is not all. We see that with the
better classes education and enlightenment have borne
their natural fruit, and demanded a pure faith, which has
already sprung up in the shape of Deism. Enlighten-
ment, then, will produce a pure faith, which will in time
react on Society, and push it forward with accelerated
speed. Now, it cannot be denied that caste laws do retard
the free and unfettered adoption of a pure faith ; and if
we assume that a pure faith will in turn become a cause,
or even an accelerator, of progress, then it is certain
that, as regards the peoples of the towns, caste, as
WOL. I. R
24.2 CASTE :
retarding the adoption of the most advanced principles
of religion, is an undoubted calamity.
We have now looked at the bearings of caste on three
very important points—its moral bearing amongst the
Indians themselves, its effects in maintaining a social sepa-
ration between the white and dark races, and its effects
in retarding the adoption of a religion which involves the
entire abolition of caste laws. In the first place, we
looked at the effects of caste laws on the rural popu-
lations, and came to the conclusion that on all these
points caste has operated, and continues to operate,
advantageously. In the second place, we looked at its
effects on the peoples of the towns, and came to the
conclusion that caste confers on them no advantages,
while it is always productive of serious evil.
Let us now glance for one moment at the causes of
the general outcry which you everywhere hear against
caste institutions, and at the same time suggest the line
of conduct that the people of the towns ought to adopt
with reference to this question. -
And here I need not occupy much space in indicating
the causes of that abuse of caste which has always been
so popular with my countrymen. In fact, if we admit
the truth of the facts and arguments hitherto adduced,
these causes are so apparent that the reader must have
already anticipated the solution I have to give. Caste,
as we have seen, is a serious evil to the peoples of the
towns. Now, it is amongst towns and cantonments that
our principal experiences of this institution have been
acquired, and the educated natives of the Indian capitals,
feeling all the evils and experiencing none of the
advantages of caste, are naturally loud in its condemna-
tion. Hence the cry arising from all Europeans and a
CA US/ES OF OUTC R P A GA/VST. 2.4-3.
trifling section of the Indians, that caste should be
abolished from one end of India to the other. But how
is it that no response comes from these country popula-
tions amongst whom I have lived 2 How is it that
these shrewd-headed people * are so insensible to the
evils of caste, and that you never hear one word about
it? The answer is extremely simple. They have never
felt these evils, because for them they do not exist. If
they felt the pressure of caste laws as do the people of
the towns, the outcry would be universal, and the insti-
tution speedily done away with. Need I add that,
when the people of the country are as advanced as the
people of the towns, that then, and not till then, will
the pressure, which is now confined to the latter, be
universally felt; that then, and not till then, will this
institution, being no longer suited to the requirements
of the age, be universally discarded ?
Let us now say a few words as to the line of conduct
that should be adopted, as regards caste, by those who
are desirous of freeing themselves from the restrictions
of that institution.
In the first place, the opponents of caste should not
weaken their case by talking nonsense; and, in the
second place, they should remember, above all things,
that, to use a common saying, “if you want a pig to go
to Dublin, the best thing you can do is to start him off
* I may mention here that Sir Bartle Frere, in his paper on “Indian Public
Works,” said, with reference to opening up districts hitherto unpierced by roads,
“And here let me observe, in passing, without any disparagement of my own
countrymen, that I have generally found the agricultural and commercial classes
of India quite as intelligent on points of this kind as the agricultural and com:
mercial classes of our own old-fashioned country.” But I have always found
that the people who have had the best opportunities of judging have formed
very favourable opinions as to the intelligence of the agricultural classes, who
are generally painted as being entirely indifferent, and even hostile, to tho best
schemes undertaken for their benefit. - - -
R 2
244– CASTE".'
on the way to Cork.” I shall now enlarge a little on
both of these recommendations.
To illustrate my first suggestion—and to this sugges-
tion I shall again have occasion to allude further on in
this chapter—a few sentences may be devoted to glancing
at Some of those remarkable conclusions which sound
so well in the observations one often hears when any-
thing is said about India. The tendency of caste, you
will hear it gravely urged, is to elevate the upper
classes on the highest possible pinnacle, and keep the
Pariah grovelling in the dust. “What,” continues the
speaker, “keeps the Brahmin at the top and the Pariah
at the bottom * Why, let me ask in turn, is a cow's
tail long, and a fox's tail bushy? Is it in this nine-
teenth century that we are to try and din into people's
ears that the upper classes in India were at the top of
the social scale, and the Pariah at the bottom, centuries
before caste, in its present shape, ever existed, and that
the relative position of the two races would continue
with little change if caste was to be abolished to-morrow
morning? “What,” gravely asks another, “has prevented
the peoples of India uniting into one grand nation, and
destroyed all hopes of political fusion ?” Nor, to many,
would the absurdity of the question be apparent till you
asked them what has prevented all Europe becoming
one nation ; or, to take things on a smaller scale, till
you asked what prevented the Highland clans forming
themselves into a nation. In short, whenever a man is
in a difficulty, and at a loss to account for anything con-
nected with the state of the people of India, he takes
refuge in caste, combined, perhaps, with what is called
native prejudice, though what that last means I do not
pretend to explain. Now, it is not improbable that some
ATS AZZ EGED 7'EWDEWC/ES. 245
of my readers may have heard of Holloway's pills, and
we know, in fact, that thousands believe that medicine to
be an efficacious remedy for every constitutional ailment.
Only swallow Holloway, and you are a cured man.
Well, the abolition of caste, with an incredible number
of people, is, in like manner, confidently pronounced to
be a universal remedy for all the political and social
complaints of India. Remove that, and you will at one
stroke secure social liberty, national unity, the removal
of idolatry, and, some even are rash enough to affirm,
the universal adoption of Christianity. Such, then, are
a few examples of the nonsense you will hear commonly
talked about caste, and I think I need not waste time in
pointing out that the opponents of caste must take very
different ground if they wish to obtain a hearing from
the peoples of India.
In the second point to which I have called the
attention of the reader I alluded to the general law of
opposition, and used a common saying which exactly
illustrates the probable result of violent and ill-judged
attacks on caste. In fact, so apparent is this, that the
reader must have already anticipated the line that, in
my opinion, the opponents of caste should follow. What
the opponents of caste should preach is, not the abolition .
of that institution, but toleration for the educated and
advanced members of the community who, finding caste
an impediment and a burden, wish to discard it. They
should admit that this institution has been, and is at the
present moment, of value amongst the rural populations,
but they should, at the same time, point out that times
are changing, and that the peoples of the towns ask for
some toleration, not because caste is necessarily a uni-
versal evil in itself, but because it is, as far as they are
246 - CASTE.
concerned, highly inconvenient. This is the way—and, if
this plan does not answer, I feel sure no other will—that
the evils of caste are to be mitigated, and I urge these
views accordingly on the serious attention of all en-
lightened Indians. - *
The reader will have observed that, when pointing out
the advantages of caste in repelling our interpretation of
Christianity, I have assumed that the adoption of Chris-
tianity necessarily involves the entire abolition of all
those social distinctions that make up what we call caste.
Such have been the terms on which Christianity has
been offered to the peoples of India by our English
missionaries; and I, for one, do most sincerely rejoice
that their hide-bound interpretation of the Protestant
faith has been as promptly as it has been decidedly
rejected. But why should caste—which, as I have
shown, can be proved to have produced such favourable
results as regards drinking, and as regards the morality
of the sexes—why should this institution, which in
these respects can be proved to have produced better
results than Christianity has ever done in these islands
—why should this be swept away because you wish to
introduce the religion of Christ It has been alleged
to be entirely incompatible with Christianity; and were
this so, there would, of course, be no more to be said.
But this I wholly deny. It is, of course, incompatible
in some respects with exalted conceptions of the most
advanced Christianity; but there is no reason why
Christianity should not be allowed to exist alongside of
abnormal social growths, and why, in short, Christianity
should not be stretched to tolerate caste, in the same
way that it was allowed by the apostles to exist along-
side of evils with which the institution of caste cannot,
OUR VERSION OF CHRISTIAN/TP RE/ECTED. 247
for iniquity or for general ill effects, be for one moment
compared. Christianity was not held by the apostles to
be an impossibility because the professors of that faith
bought and sold slaves; it was not held so by their
descendants for hundreds of years; and will those
interpreters of Christianity whom we have sent to
India venture to assert that the Americans had no right
to the name of Christians until the close of the late war P
Slavery was driven out at length, or at least in a
great measure driven out, by Christianity; but Chris-
tianity, remember, had first of all to be introduced; and
taking into consideration the Acts of the Apostles, the
way in which they yielded to the customs and prejudices
of their converts, and the resolution they came to “not
to trouble those of the Gentiles who were turning to
God,” on what grounds do our missionaries rest their
claim to debar from the advantages of Christianity those
people who, wishing to retain their place in society,
desire to become Christians? This is not the first time
that these questions have been asked. They were asked
at great length by Mr. Irving in his “Theory and Prac-
tice of Caste.” Hitherto they have been asked in vain;
and owing to the indifference of people in this country,
and to the slavish submission of the laity to the opinion
of the missionaries, a system of attempting to propagate
Christianity has been allowed to exist which has been of
incalculable mischief. But I think we may even go
further than this. I think it may be asserted that the
line taken up, as regards caste, by our missionaries has
acted more prejudicially to the interests of Christianity
than if we had deliberately despatched emissaries to
India with the view of preventing the people from
adopting the religion of Christ. These may seem harsh,
248 . . . . . CASTE :
and I have no doubt they will prove to be unwelcome,
expressions of opinion. They will hurt, and I am afraid
will shock, the feelings of many a good and worthy man.
I regret that this should be so, but I cannot help it.
In any case good must arise. If I am right, as I firmly
believe myself to be, the cause of enlightenment and
Christianity will be advanced; and if I am wrong, and
it can be proved that the missionaries are right, they
will have as great, and it may even be a greater claim to
public support than they ever had before. But it must
clearly be understood that, as an individual desirous of
propagating truth, I have a right to demand an answer.
If that answer is satisfactory, well and good. If it is
not satisfactory, or if no answer be supplied at all,
I shall then request the public here to consider whether
it would not be better to withhold all their subscriptions
from our English, or at least transfer them to such
missions as will consent to attempt to propagate Chris-
tianity on the widest possible base. -
In considering this important subject I shall, in the
first place, glance at Bishop Heber's Letter on Caste;
Bishop Wilson's Circular ; the Report of the Madras
Commissioners; and the statement of the Tanjore
German Missionaries. This may seem a formidable list
of documents to commence with, but it is my intention
to make only the most cursory allusion to each, as to
consider these papers at any length would occupy far
too much space. Having thus stated the difference of
opinions, as regards caste, between the Germans and the
Protestant missionaries, I shall then proceed to inquire
whether caste can or can not be traced to an idolatrous
source; whether it was in any way necessarily wound up
with religion; and whether, further, it is at all necessary
A/SA/OA HEAEPER'S / ETTER ON. 24.9
that, supposing it to have been at any time wound up
with religion, there should therefore be at the present
day any necessary connection between the religions of
the peoples and their caste customs.
In Bishop Heber's Letter of March 21st, 1826, he says
that, “with regard to the distinctions of caste as yet
maintained by professing Christians, it appears that
they are manifested—(a) in desiring separate seats at
church; (b) in going up at different times to receive
the Holy Communion; (c) in insisting on their chil-
dren having different sides of the school; (d) in re-
fusing to eat, drink, or associate with those of a different
caste.”
On the first of these points the bishop observes, with
great justice, that points of precedence have constantly
been granted in Christian churches to people of noble
birth and of great fortune, and that in the United States
of America these distinctions were always maintained
between the whites and the negroes. He also points out
that a Christian gentleman conforms to those rules
because, if he neglected them, he would lose influence
with his own degree in society, and that a native of the
better classes acts exactly on the same principle. And
on this point he concludes that distinctions of caste
in church may still be allowed, provided that due care is
taken to teach the natives that in the sight of God they
are all equal. *
As regards the second point the good bishop says
nothing, because, I surmise, he concluded the going up
at different times to receive the sacrament was included
in his remarks as regard precedence in church.
As regards the schools, and amongst the children, he
observes that caste must, as regards taking places, &c.,
250 - - - CASTE.
be disregarded, but, he adds, even here caution should
be observed to disgust no man needlessly.
With regard to the fourth point, he was decidedly
of opinion that, as regards private meals and social
intercourse, we had no right to interfere whatever.
After alluding to the objections raised by some zealous
missionaries to the processions in marriages and other
matters, he intimates pretty plainly that he has some
fears that recent missionaries have been more scrupulous
in these matters than need requires. He then concludes
by saying that “God forbid we should wink at sin; but
God forbid, also, that we should make the narrow gate
of life narrower than Christ has made it, or deal less
favourably with the prejudices of this people than
St. Paul and the primitive church dealt with the almost
similar prejudices of the Jewish converts.”
The bishop then framed a set of questions as regards
caste observances, to which he required particular
answers; but, in consequence of his untimely death,
and of the short tenure of office held by his successors,
Bishops James and Turner, no further official action was
taken till the middle of 1833, when Bishop Wilson's
Circular * dealt the most fatal blow to Christianity that
* In this Circular of Bishop Wilson's it is surprising to observe the contra-
dictions that exist. At one part of the Circular we are told that the apostle's
language is conclusive : and “Seeing ye have put off the old man with deeds, and
have put on the new man, which is renewed in knowledge after the image of Him
that created him, where there is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcision nor uncir-
cumcision, barbarian, Scythian, bond nor free, but Christ is all, and in all,” is
quoted as evidence of the Divine wishes. “So overwhelming,” continues the
bishop, “is the flood by which all petty distinctions of nation, caste, privilege,
rank, climate, position in civilization are effaced, and one grand distinction
substituted.” And yet, at another part of the Circular, we are told that the
distinctions in civil society are acknowledged by the Gospel, when they are “the
natural result of difference of talents, industry, piety, station, and success.”
Another decision of the apostle is quoted in the same Circular, and it is this—
“There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither
male nor female, for we are all one in Christ Jesús ; ” and so, of course, we are
all equal in his sight. And yet this is quoted as being a decision in favour of
A/SAMOA) WZZSOAV’.S. C/A&C U/CAA’. 25 I
it has ever received in India. For this Circular impera-
tively declared that the distinction of castes, as regards
all the relations of life, must be abandoned, “decidedly,
immediately, and finally.” And in order that this
mandate might be intensely galling to the upper-class
vegetarian Christian, it was especially ordered that “dif-
ferences of food and dress” were to be included in those
overt acts which were to mark out for condemnation
the Christian who still clung to the habits of his fathers
in these innocent, and, as regards food, healthful restric-
tions. To cling to these differences of food and dress,
and to abstain from alcohol, was to cling to caste; and it
was especially ordered that the children of native Chris-
tians should not be admitted to the Holy Communion
without a full renunciation of all those social differences
which might distinguish them from other members of
the Society in which they lived. This was quite suffi-
cient. “The Circular was read in the churches of
doing away with the civil institutions of caste, which are undoubtedly the marks
of that “station” which the bishop tells us is acknowledged by the Gospel, and
in no way different from the station that a member of the House of Lords
inherits from his predecessors. And here, though I do not think that it is
advisable to cling to isolated texts as evidence of the general conduct of the
apostles regarding the prejudices of their converts, I may mention that Peter, in
his first Epistle, says, “Submit yourself to every ordinance of man for the Lord's
sake.” And if we take Dean Alford's interpretation of this, and consider it as
equivalent to a command, extending to every human institution (and I can see
no reason why we should not), it is plain that our missionaries in India, if they
wish to follow the example of the apostles, should yield to the prejudices of caste
as long as they do not involve idolatrous rites. But it is in the general action of
the apostles, as illustrated in Acts xv. 19, that the safest guide may, I apprehend,
be found; and when, with reference to difficulties as regarding the customs of
their converts, St. James said (Dean Alford's edition), “Wherefore my sentence
is, that we trouble not them which from the Gentiles are turned to God; but that
we write to them, that they abstain from pollutions of idols, from fornication,
and from things strangled, and from blood;"—and again: “For it seemed good
to the Holy Ghost, and to us, to lay upon you no greater burden than " [these]
“necessary things; that ye abstain from meats offered unto idols, and from blood,
and from things strangled, and from fornication; from which, if ye keep your-
selves, ye shall do well; ”—when the apostle said thus, I think we ought to feel
little doubt as to the course we ought to pursue regarding the social customs of
the peoples of India.
252 CASTE.
Tanjore. It was received by the native Christians
with great displeasure, and they showed their views
by seceding in a body.”
Turning now to the Report of the Madras Commis-
sioners, which was written in 1845, we shall at once see
the cause and root of this violent attack on social usages.
For the commissioners commence their Report by stating
that the institution of caste and the divisions of society
were things of priestly invention, and that, in fact, the
whole of Hindoo society, as we at present see it, ori-
ginated in, and is maintained by, Hindoo idolatry. And
they further allege that the tyranny of this institution
is such as to be perfectly unaccountable on any other
supposition. How any body of priests had the power to
issue and enforce mandates regarding the extraordinary
diversities as to food and dress that we see prevailing
throughout India, where the council sat that issued
these decrees, and where the members of this council
came from, they give no account. They do not seem
to have even thought of such questions, and, for evidence
of these astounding assertions, they refer us to what
they call “the laws of Manu,” and to Halhed’s “Gentoo
* “The name, “Laws of Manu, somewhat resembles a pious fraud, for the
‘laws’ are merely the laws or customs of a school or association of Hindoos,
called the Mānavas, who lived in the country rendered holy by the divine river
Saraswati. In this district the Hindoos first felt themselves a settled people, and
in this neighbourhood they established colleges and hermitages, or āsramas, from
some of which we may suppose Brähmanas, Upanishads, and other religious
compositions may have issued; and under such influences we may imagine the
Code of Manu to have been composed.
“The Mānavas were undoubtedly an active, energetic people, who governed
themselves, paid taxes to the king, established internal and external trade, and
drew up an extensive system of laws and customs, to which they appended real
and imaginary awards. This system appears to have worked so well, that it was
adopted by other communities, and then the organisers announced it as laws
given to them by their divine progenitor, the great Mana. They added passages,
moreover, which assert the divine claims of Brähmans and the inferiority of the
rest of mankind. Such assertions are little more than rhetorical flourishes, for
Brahmans never were either so omnipotent or so unamiable as the Code would
represent them; nor were the Südras ever so degraded. In Sanskrit plays and
AEPORT OF MADRAS COMMISSIONERS. 253
Hindoo Code.” Caste and idolatry, then, according to
them, are not only inextricably wound up together, but
caste itself was caused by, and is a part of, idolatry; and
we are, therefore, plainly told that it is impossible that
a man should abandon the one without abandoning the
other, and that, in other words, the two institutions
must stand or fall together. Leaving this part of these
assertions to be commented on further on, I now pass on
to the statement and arguments of the Tanjore German
missionaries. -
Shortly after Bishop Heber's Letter which I have
referred to at the commencement of these remarks, he
drew up a number of questions regarding caste prac-
tices amongst native Christians, to which he required
special answers. These Articles of Inquiry, as they are
termed, were sent to the Tanjore missionaries, and by
them a statement in reply was furnished. They were
asked for their opinion in 1828, and though no date is
affixed to these statements, I conclude that they probably
replied towards the close of that year.
They commence by observing that the distinctions of
caste had been observed since the establishment of the
mission by the Rev. Mr. Schwartz, soon after the year
1762, and that he himself had been guided, partly by
his own discretion, and partly by the example of the
clergy of the Tranquebar mission, which, in the year
1705, was started by those good and amiable men of
whom I have given some account in another part of this
work. These successors of Schwartz, then, observed that
they had persistently imitated the conduct of that able
poems, weak and indigent Brähmans are by no means unfrequent; and, on the
other hand, we meet with Südras who had political rights, and even in the Code
find the pedigrees of great men traced up to Südra ancestors.”—Mrs. Manning's
“Ancient and Mediaeval India,” vol. i. p. 276.
254. CASTE.
and good man; but that, while they took care to imitate
his caution and forbearance, they seized every oppor-
tunity of softening the mutual prejudices arising from
distinctions of caste; and they also observe that, in
consequence, those distinctions of caste have gradually
lost a great deal of their importance.
Alluding, in the next place, to the assertion that castes
had been invented and entirely originated by the Brah-
mins, the authors of the statement observe that, in the
opinion of the most intelligent natives who were not of
the Brahminical order, the social distinctions which con-
stitute caste existed long before the Brahmins came into
the country at all; and they assert, further, that though
the Brahmin priests blended those social distinctions
with their idolatry, and framed a convenient legend to
account for their divine institution, the whole thing was
a mere fiction, which had been invented with the view
of adding to the power of an ambitious priesthood. But
the missionaries of Tanjore asserted, further, that even
if the legend of caste was a true One, and that caste
had been a part of idolatry, still those who abandoned
the worshipping of idols and superstitious rites were
not, therefore, to be required to abandon such practices
as had nothing of idolatry about them at all, and they
distinctly declared that no rites of an idolatrous or even
mixed nature were tolerated amongst their converts.
The missionaries then pointed out that their high-
caste converts simply retained these privileges and social
customs because they would lose the respect of their
neighbours if they abandoned those marks of station
which they had inherited, and which they looked upon
entirely as a civil prerogative. It was also pointed out
that high-caste priests gained ready access to the houses
|WISE AC 77OAW OF GERMAAV ///SS/OMA /č/./2.S. 255
of the better classes, and had, therefore, better chances
of spreading Christianity than Pariah priests, whom no
good-caste native would allow to cross the threshold of
his house.
At church those of the upper classes sat on One side,
and those of the lower on the other, and the higher and
lower castes went up at different times to the commu-
nion-table.
In the schools no difficulty was experienced, and high
and low caste children sat quite indiscriminately.
As regards social intercourse, they observe that none
of their converts have any objection to partake of food
prepared by another caste, as long as that caste is of
superior rank to them, but that no one would touch food
prepared by a man of lower caste than himself. The
distinction of caste was also preserved as regards mar-
riages, though these, of course, were always solemnised
in the church. -
Finally, these good and sensible men regret the ten-
dencies of caste, but seem to consider that more good
was to be done by letting it alone, and, in short, letting
it die a natural death, than by forcibly opposing the
prejudices of the people. And they very justly observe,
that to oblige a man of high caste to eat with the lowest
is doing force to common delicacy and to natural feelings
of sense, and may be sometimes of serious consequence
to bodily health. -
I may here mention that about twelve years ago,
Dr. Graul, the head of the Leipsic Missionary Society,”
visited India, remained there three years at the various
missionary stations, and was firmly convinced that to
interfere with the social customs of the native Christians
* Wide Appendix C.
256 CASTE".'
Would be at Once unjust and impolitic. As regards the
exact action of the Roman Catholics at present, I have
no information to lay before the reader, but I know
that they always had the wisdom to interfere as little as
possible with the prejudices of the people, as long as
they did not involve idolatrous rites.
Having thus laid before the reader an outline of the
views of the supporters and opponents of caste, I shall
now offer the conclusions I have arrived at, partly from
my own observations and partly from the writings of
others. I shall
1. Inquire into the origin of caste.
2. I shall inquire into the sanitary uses of caste,
more especially as it concerns the approaching the com-
munion-table promiscuously, as to the sitting together
in church or other places, and as to its effect as regards
general social intercourse.
3. I shall inquire whether there are not some com-
pensating advantages, as regards caste institutions, which
tend in a great measure to neutralise the prejudicial
effects that arise from people's sympathies and feelings
being confined to the members of their own caste, in-
stead of being evenly distributed over the human race,
considered as a whole. -
And, first of all, as to the origin of caste—a point which
seems to have been thought of no little importance by
Oll]? caste-condemning missionaries. I confess that I, for
my part, do not attach much importance to this question
of the origin of caste, and think it of far more impor-
tance to ascertain its present bearing and effect. But,
as many have raised the question, and asserted that
caste had an idolatrous origin, and was the invention
of an idolatrous priesthood, it may be worth while to
AſO W /7 D/D AWOZ’ OA&MG/WA 7'E. 257
gather together such facts as we can lay our hands on
regarding this somewhat obscure subject. And it seems
to me that the first thing we have to do is to clear
away the rubbish which has been piled upon it in
common with most Indian institutions—to ask what is
evidence, and what is not. Our missionaries have asserted
that caste can be clearly traced to an idolatrous origin,
and that the institution is entirely unaccountable on
any other supposition, and they pointed to the Code of
Manu in proof of that assertion. But, on referring to
Mrs. Manning's valuable work on “Ancient and Mediae-
val India,” we can find no evidence that caste originated
in any special way whatever. And we are told, on the
authority of Mr. Muir, that the sacred books of the
Hindoos contain no uniform or consistent account of
the origin of caste, and that the freest scope is given by
the individual writers to fanciful and arbitrary conjec-
ture. The story that the castes issued from the mouth,
arms, thighs, and feet of Brahma was simply an allegory,
which, in the course of time, hardened into a literal
statement of fact. The Brahmins, of course, came out
of the mouth of Brahma; and, considering that they
were the authors and compilers of all the principal
books relating to castes and customs, it would have been
extremely odd if they had not exalted their own order,
and indulged in a tone of Oriental exaggeration which
was eminently calculated to deceive, not, perhaps, their
successors, but the Englishmen who went to India. But
the most curious thing is, that it never seems to have
occurred to our missionaries to suspect that what they
took as evidence of facts, and of a state of things really
existing, was, in reality, only evidence of what an order
or set of people could write, with the view of exalting
WOL. I. S
258 CASTE.
themselves and depressing the rest of the society amongst
which they lived. The Brahmins chose to assert that
the castes were of divine origin. They wrote that down
and handed it on. We came to India, and, finding
these statements ready to hand, have simply swallowed
them down, and added them to the number of illusions
existing as regards India. But the facts really are, that
castes and orders of men sprang up, we don’t know
exactly how. Brahmin writers described the castes, or
at least part of them, and, in the course of time, the
Writings were said to have caused the castes, instead of
the castes having caused the writings.
But whatever may be the facts as regards caste, we
know that caste can exist without idolatry, and idolatry
without caste; and that though the Brahmins, with their
usual desire to incorporate everything in life with reli-
gion, gathered caste into their garners, and endeavoured
to increase and extend it, still there is fair evidence for
asserting that these two institutions have no necessary
connection, and that, as it was perfectly possible to
wind them up together, so it is perfectly possible to
unwind them and produce again an entire separation.
In a word, it is perfectly possible for a man to retain
caste, not as believing it to be part of his native idola-
trous religion, but as believing it to be (what it really
was till the Brahmins seized hold of it and attached it
to their faith) a civil institution which had sprung up
in remote times, and had been inherited by him, just as
rank and station are inherited in this country.” And
* As an instance that a man can abandon all religious rites whatever, and
retain his caste unimpaired and unaltered, I may mention that my native clerk
told me that he had done nothing in the way of religion at all for years; but
that, of course, made no difference to him in the eyes of his neighbours, who
didn’t care what he did, as long as he did not depart from the social customs of
S7R EMERSOAV 7ENAVENT'S OPIAV/OM. 259
that caste can exist without religion, and alongside of a
religion as opposite to Brahminism as Christianity is,
we have the most indisputable evidence supplied by the
late Sir Emerson Tennent, in his “History of Chris-
tianity in Ceylon.”
“Caste,” he wrote, “as it exists at the present day
amongst the Buddhists of Ceylon, is purely a social dis-
tinction, and entirely disconnected with any sanction
or pretensions derivable from their system of religion.
Nor is evidence wanting that, even at a comparatively
modern period, such was equally its aspect amongst the
natives throughout the continent of India, by whom
caste was held not as a sacred, but as a secular discri-
mination of ranks. The earliest notice of India by the
Greek historians and geographers enumerates the divi-
sion of the people into Brahmins, Kistrayas, Vaisyas,
and Sudras; but this was a classification which applied
equally to the followers of Buddha” (who preached that,
in the sight of God, all men were equal) “and of Brahma,
nor were the members of either section held ineligible for
the offices of the priesthood.” And, in the note below,
the reader will find additional evidence which will show
him that caste in Ceylon, just as it originally was in
India, can and does exist merely as a division of ranks,
and that it need not at all be necessarily connected with
any idolatrous rites or worship.”
his caste. I once said to a native shopkeeper in Bangalore, “What religion are
you of P” “Oh ” he answered with a smile, “no religion at all, sir.” But
I need not trouble the reader with further evidence to show that a man may
drop his religion altogether without dropping his caste, and that therefore religion
and caste have no necessary connection with one another whatever.
* “Caste, though distinctly denounced by their sacred books, and ostensibly
disavowed by the Singhalese themselves, still exists in their veneration for rank,
whether hereditary or adventitious. Thus every district and every village has
its little leader, a pre-eminence accorded to birth rather than property; and, by a
descending scale, certain members of the community, in right of relationship or
connection, assume an undefined superiority, and are tacitly admitted to the
s 2
26o CASTE :
Having thus shown how caste did not originate, it
may, perhaps, not be altogether superfluous if I hazard
a few remarks as to the way in which it did probably
Originate.
The common idea of caste is, that it is simply a com-
bination of troublesome and fanciful restrictions, imposed
upon the various peoples of India by those of the upper
classes who desired to keep themselves above the jostling
of the crowd. But this institution (if that be a correct
term for it) arose naturally and regularly out of the cir-
cumstances of the times, and, where these circumstances
no longer exist, it will as naturally disappear; and that
the last must happen we have seen from the fact that
altered circumstances have already caused the com-
mencement of its removal amongst the people of the
towns. But the general circumstances which gave birth
to caste require a few words of explanation, and the
following solution seems not an unnatural One. -
We know as a certain fact that peoples to whom we
have given the names of Dravidians and Aryans entered
exercise of what is technically called an “influence.’ In the hamlets so universal
is this feeling amongst the natives, so habitual the impulse to classify themselves
and to look up to some one as their superior in the scale of Society, that the custom
descends through every gradation of life and its occupations, and in some of the
villages the missionaries found it necessary to appoint two schoolmasters, even
where there was less than occupation for one—“influence,’ as well as ability
to teach, being an essential qualification; and if the individual did not possess the
former, it was most indispensable to associate with him some other who did.'
Again, if a village could not furnish a master competent to teach, it was in vain
to procure one from a distance; his ‘influence’ did not extend to that locality,
and no pupils could be got to attend. Nor was caste itself without the open
avowal of its force, the children of a Wellala or high-caste family being on no
account permitted to enter the school-house of a lower-caste master. These are
obstacles which prevail in all their original force even at the present day; and
in the purely Singhalese districts, such as Matura, the prestige of caste is so
despotic, that no amount of qualification in all other particulars can overcome
the repugnance to intercourse with those who are deficient in the paramount
requisite of rank.”—Sir J. E. Tennent's “Christianity in Ceylon,” p. 286.
! MS. account of Baptist Mission.
I7S AROBA BE E ORIGIN. 26 I
India from the north and north-west; that they in-
creased and multiplied, overspread the whole of India,
and reduced the aborigines to serfdom. We also know
that these tribes from the north, who were, compara-
tively speaking, fair, looked upon the black, ugly,
carrion-eating aborigines with singular disgust. Hence,
naturally, must have arisen the opinions as regards
Pariahs which all the superior castes hold to this day.
Even to have food touched by people of such abominable
habits must have been repulsive, and therefore the
separation into men of caste and men of no caste, or, in
other words, into browns and blacks (for the Word for
caste means colour), followed as a matter of course.
Caste, then, seems naturally to have arisen from the
idea that to associate in any way with people of bad
habits and grovelling ideas is an intolerable degrada-
tion. The superior races, therefore, must have con-
sidered it a matter of importance to retreat as far as
possible from the habits of the aborigines; and when
we take into consideration the influence of religion, the
natural ambition of the priestly classes, the splitting up
into sects, and the fondness of the Hindoo mind for
subtle distinctions, the rest easily follows. But, though
numerous castes arose amongst the invaders, the main
line of demarcation is still the original one of race—be-
tween the races of the north and the aborigines whom
they found in possession of India. The base, then, of
caste, we may rest assured, was simply the result of a
people, or rather of peoples, wishing to keep themselves
uncontaminated when coming in contact with a debased
population. This was exactly the case with the Jews.
They were simply a very strongly-guarded caste, with a
number of regulations as to what they were and were
262 CASTE".'
not to eat, and with rules which prohibited them inter-
marrying or associating with peoples with whom they
came in contact. Many of those rules may seem to us
ridiculous and fanciful, but they were calculated to pre-
Vent the Jews from any chance of adopting the manners
and customs of the peoples around them; and the In-
dians, having had similar views, naturally adopted similar
means. Such, then, is a brief generalisation of the
causes which led to caste laws, which were, no doubt,
carried in some instances to a ridiculous length, but
which were founded in common sense, and were ad-
mirably adapted to carry into effect the opinions of the
Superior races. -
We have now, in the second place, to consider caste
with reference to the approach of native converts to the
T.Ord’s table, the sitting apart of the various castes in
church, and the effects of caste as regards what is called
social intercourse.
The whole difficulty of the caste question, as regards
the sacrament, lies in this, namely, that a high-caste
vegetarian objects to drink wine at the same time and
after a low-caste meat-eater. And here I find a great
difficulty in finding words or illustrations that will at all
convey the feelings of a high-caste vegetarian at the
very idea of drinking after a low-caste carrion-eater. If
from the lowest, filthiest, and most poisonous dens in
London, you were to take a man reeking with beer and
tobacco, and with his clothes crawling with vermin, and
presenting, in short, every appearance of foulness, dirt,
and disease; if you were to take that man and place him
between two ladies at the administration of the Holy
Communion, I do not say that they would there and
then refuse the sacrament on these terms, but I think
AS REGARDS TAKING THE SACRAMEWZ. 263
we may be pretty sure that, from Sanitary motives, if
from no others, they would in future take the sacrament
in a place where they would not be liable to such con-
tact. Their feelings and senses would be shocked by
such contact as I have imagined, but their sensations
would merely bear the same proportion to the sensations
of a high-caste vegetarian Hindoo who had to drink
after a Pariah that a trifling cause of disgust would bear
to the most intolerable and lasting degradation. Now,
to people in this country this may seem an extraordinary
thing; but they will think it less extraordinary when I
tell them that, if I could not take the Sacrament unless
amongst Pariahs, I would never take it again, unless,
perhaps, I was to put myself bodily into one of Professor
Tyndall’s cotton-gauze air-cleansers, and drink the
sacramental wine after it had been boiled at a tempera-
ture of 212°, and passed through a filter. And when
I talk of the lowest castes as carrion-eaters, I must tell
the reader that I am not in the slightest degree guilty
of exaggeration, and that they are carrion-eaters in
exactly the same sense that Vultures are carrion-eaters.
In fact, these men never get any meat unless that of
animals that have died of disease ; and as in these
climates decomposition is extremely rapid, the reader
can imagine the result of coming in contact with a man
who has, perhaps, a few hours before been eating a mass
of diseased and half-decomposed meat. And in case the
reader should not be able to imagine what the result is,
I may mention the following circumstance. A few days
after I had killed a bison I had occasion to point out
some pieces of sawn wood which I wished to be removed
from the jungle to my house, and I accordingly took
with me a native overseer, and two coolies to carry the
264. - CASTE :
timber. When I was pointing out the pieces to them,
I smelt a strong smell of putrid meat, which seemed to
fill the air so entirely that I at once concluded that a
tiger must have killed some animal and left the carcass
near the spot. My overseer and myself looked about
everywhere, but at last happening to pass the coolies,
I at once perceived that the smell arose from their
breath, and on questioning them, I found that before
coming to work they had been feasting on decayed bison
flesh. In fact, after killing a bison, we could never go
near our coolies for some days afterwards. But to see a
party of these men sitting like vultures around the
carcass of some animal that has just died of some
abominable disease is quite enough to inspire even an
unprejudiced European meat-eater with the most whole-
some horror; and the reader need not, I think, be
surprised at the feelings of disgust which these men's
habits inspire amongst the respectable classes of the
community. But independently of all feelings of
disgust, there are sanitary considerations which are of
infinitely more importance. For it so happens that, at a
time when the weather is hottest and the season most
unhealthy, a larger number of animals die; and I have
very little doubt that this eating of rotten meat causes
amongst the Pariahs a large quantity of disease, and
especially of cholera, which they would not fail to dis-
seminate with fatal certainty amongst all classes, were
the native Christians compelled to take the Sacrament
indiscriminately. And, in my own experience, I have
observed that cholera has passed through districts, that
the upper classes have been free from it, but that
amongst the lower the victims were many. And the
same sanitary reasons that apply to the sacrament apply
A 7'S SAAW/7'AA' P A DVAMTAGA.S. 265.
equally well to the mixing of castes indiscriminately in
the churches; for it might so happen, as it frequently
does, that fever and cholera may be prevalent amongst
the lower castes, while the higher may be at that time
comparatively free from such diseases. So that when we
take all these points into consideration, we shall find
that the German missionaries were perfectly right in
placing the men of the higher caste on one side of the
church, and those of the lower on the other, and that
they were equally right in allowing the higher castes
to approach the sacrament at a different time from
the lower. I may here remark that I once mentioned
this taking of the sacrament in a sort of order of pre-
cedence to a clergyman in a country parish, when he
told me that exactly the same sort of thing occurred in
his parish, and that the lord of the manor invariably
took the sacrament first, and, if I recollect rightly, the
parish clerk last; and a special instance of this in a
Scotch parish was mentioned to me not long ago.
The same sanitary considerations will also naturally
be of value when we come to consider that indiscriminate
social intercourse which the missionaries so much insist
upon as one of the necessary signs of grace. I do not,
of course, say that it is not advisable, and that it would
not be desirable to see a little more intercourse between
class and class than exists at present. But between all
the better classes there is a much greater degree of
intercourse than our missionaries would have us believe;
and it is not true that one caste will eat only the food
prepared by a person of his own caste. I cannot, of
course, say what may be the case as regards other parts
of India; but, as regards my own district, each caste
will eat of the food prepared by any of the castes higher,
266 CASTE :
or at least purer, than its own. For instance, a Gouda,
who will not allow that the Lingayet caste is better than
his own, will eat of food prepared by a Lingayet, while a
Lingayet will not eat of food prepared by a Gouda.
And the explanation of this is, that the Lingayet is a
vegetarian, and meat might have been boiled in the
Gouda's pots, while there would be nothing to offend
the Gouda customs in the pots of a vegetarian host.
But in these matters I entirely agree with the good
Bishop Heber, who said that we had no right to inter-
fere in their private life, or to meddle in any way with
their social customs, as long as there was no idolatry
in them.
Turning now to the third point I proposed to consider,
I have a few remarks to make regarding the only (from
a Christian point of view) solid objection that can, I
conceive, be made to the institution of separate orders of
men; namely, that the tendency of caste is to shut up
the bowels of compassion towards all the world outside
of a man’s particular class. And here I confess that
I am very much in want of information, and can think
of no unprejudiced individuals to whom to apply for the
facts as really existing in other parts of India. As for
books, when I look into them for any information, I am
at once met by quantities of unlimited condemnations, or
a host of contradictory statements. And, as an instance
of the latter, I may mention that in Kerr’s “Domestic
Life of the Natives of India’’ we are informed, at
page 31, that “alms are given to the poor without
distinction of caste,” while at page 343 of the same
volume we are told that “to extend kindness and
hospitality to one of a different caste is regarded as
sinful.” But in matters of this sort we want the
AWO BAA TO AEWOSAE/7A/XTP. 267
experience of individuals who have actually lived
amongst the people, as much as any one can who is
not actually one of them. As for my own part of the
country, I can answer for it that caste has no such
effect as has been alleged to arise from it regarding
the extension of hospitality and kindness to people of
various castes. And the reader may recollect that, in
my chapter on Native Character, I mentioned the fact
that I had found members of every caste assembled at
the house of a todyman to inquire how he was, and to
see whether they could do anything for him. These
tody-drawers rank at least third amongst the castes in
Munzerabad, and though none of the members of the
farmer caste above them would eat of food prepared in a
tody-drawer's house, yet there were numbers of both
castes present. This feeling would not, that I am aware
of, go as far as one of the carrion-eating Pariahs, but I
am quite certain that it would extend to any other caste
but theirs in the country. But on this point I do not
offer any decided opinion, as, for what I know to the
contrary, acts of kindness and hospitality may, no
doubt, often have been extended even to the lowest.
And I may also mention here that I have slept in the
verandah of a farmer’s house, in which members of the
family slept close to some of my people, who were of
the tody-drawer caste above alluded to, and who, I am
sure, were quite as welcome as members of their own
caste would have been. But as regards all these
matters concerning the inner life of the people we
know nothing, unless we actually live amongst them,
and sleep in their houses, and, in fact, see the people at
home; and as it is extremely difficult to find any one
who has done anything of the kind, it naturally follows
268 CASTE.
that it is almost impossible to find anything like reliable
Sources of information regarding native habits through-
out India. You may, it is true, stuff your very soul
With information of some sort or other, if you go about
asking questions, but if you do you will find yourself
much in the same predicament that Johnson found him-
self in his tour to the Hebrides; and the reader may
recollect that the worthy doctor very soon found that
nothing could be more vague, unsatisfactory, and uncer-
tain than the answers of an unsophisticated simple
people, who were not much in the habit of being asked
questions of any sort. However, the reader may, in the
meantime, reasonably infer that the conduct of the
people in the rural districts of India, and situated under
similar circumstances, would not materially differ, as
regards matters of caste, from the practice as existing in
Munzerabad. And should that turn out to be the case,
it is plain that those notions, as regards the practice of
caste, which have been so industriously circulated in
England, are almost entirely false.
I have said that I proposed inquiring, further, whether
there are not some compensating advantages in this
division of the people into castes which tend, in a great
measure, to neutralise the prejudicial effects that arise
from people's sympathies and feelings being more or less
confined to members of their own caste, instead of being
distributed over the human race considered as a whole.
Now, it is perfectly true that the tendency of caste is to
weaken the claim that humanity in general has on an
individual; but though the claim of society in general
is weakened, it must be remembered that the claims of
each caste on the members of it are strengthened. And
though this fact may militate against an enlarged and
PRACTICAL VALUE OF CASTE FEEZ/WG.S. 269
Christian philanthropy, the aggregate force of claims will
be found to amount to a much larger sum than if one
part of a society had no more claim on a man than
another. A man of one caste would not, for instance,
perhaps feel that a man of another caste had much
claim on him; but he would distinctly and strongly feel
that a member of his own caste had. And every caste
acting on the same principle of supporting and helping
its members, I am convinced that the aggregate force of
assistance rendered must be greater than in a country
where there is little or no caste principle. This may
seem a rash assertion, and of course it is one that it is
impossible, as far as I am aware, to prove. But the fact
that there is not a poor-house from one end of India to
the other, seems to me a significant and satisfactory
circumstance; and the only way I can account for there
being no need of such a thing is,” that caste feeling must
often come in where all other aids fail. Nor are we in
this country without instances of the value of caste
feelings, and both the Jews and the Scotch may still be
pointed to as illustrations of what I mean. A Scotch-
man still has a sort of caste feeling for a Scotchman, and
would do things for a man, as a Scotchman, that he
would not do for people of either English or Irish
descent. This principle may now have lessened, and is,
no doubt, daily lessening. But when I started in the
World, fifteen years ago, I very soon experienced the
benefit of this caste feeling; and, as one illustration to
the point, I may mention that, before my estates came
into bearing, I was attended in a long and serious illness
by two Scotch doctors (one of whom attended on me
for six weeks incessantly), both of whom resolutely
* In the large towns this remark might not, perhaps, be justifiable.
270 ... • - CAS7E :
declined any remuneration whatever. I cannot, of
Course, positively assert that these gentlemen would not
have attended me on the same terms had I been an
Englishman, but, from my general experience with other
doctors, I am sure that these gentlemen must have been
not a little influenced by caste feeling. And I have
no doubt whatever that the way the Scotch get on,
Wherever they go, is to be attributed, in no small measure,
to the existence of the same feeling. It may seem to
many of my readers that to use the term caste as a
principle which impels one Scotchman to help another
is not exactly correct; and I must admit to having some
doubts on the subject myself. The case of the Jews,
however, admits of none; and, if ever there was a caste
of people in the world, in the strict Hindoo sense, they
are certainly an unmistakable example. And what are
the results of caste feeling with them 2 As to other
parts of the world I have no precise information; but
in England I have ascertained from the best authority
that caste feeling has produced some extremely favour-
able results. In the first place, Jews are seldom or
never found in our workhouses; and all cases of poverty
are carefully investigated by a visiting committee, or
board of guardians, and relief or employment is always
afforded to every Jewish pauper. Then, again, no
Jewish child ever was, and no Jewish child is now,
without the means of obtaining elementary instruction;
and it would be difficult to find an English Jew unable
to read and write. Means are taken to secure the
attendance of all poor children, and a sound middle-class
education is afforded, while the study of the Hebrew
language is compulsory. There are only, it may be
added, about twenty Jewish (principally foreigners)
A 7'S Z.Z. VE/C/D/AWG 7/JM DEMC/ES. 271
convicts in England, and no female convict is to be
found.
Another of the principal complaints brought against
caste is the fact that it has a tendency to keep one
caste fixed below another; but even here we shall find
some compensating considerations which are of great
value. For, if caste in this respect has a keeping-down
tendency, it has also a levelling one. It may keep one
order above another, but within the limits of that caste
order it has a levelling tendency, and in one respect the
poorest of each class feel themselves on a level with the
richest. Nor is a poor man of good caste made to
experience the bitter sense of degradation which falls to
the lot of a gentleman who, from poverty and mis-
fortune, has fallen out of his original class into another
far below him. The Indian may descend into the most
humble spheres; but, if he attends to the regulations of
his caste, he is always a member of it, and his feelings
of self-respect are maintained by the fact that, however
poor, it is quite possible that his daughter may be
married by a man of wealth and position. But in this
country, where a man has gone a long way down the
hill, when he has descended—as many gentlemen
especially do in our colonies—into the lower ranks of
life, he loses all connection with people who are of his
own rank by birth. I do not, of course, mean to allege
that this want of caste feeling is to be lamented with
us, but I am merely stating facts which seem to me to
show the number of ways in which this much-reviled
caste system can be proved to have compensating
advantages which tend to counterbalance the drawbacks
of the situation.
Before proceeding tosum up the contents of thischapter,
272 CASTE".'
it may be useful to make a few remarks as to the
Way in which caste laws act as regards the social con-
dition of people who have by wealth raised themselves
above the general average of their order; and I shall,
at the same time, notice a few instances that have fallen
within my observation as to the way in which caste
laws of the most stringent nature are occasionally set
aside by universal consent.
The old idea we entertained of caste was that, to use
the Words of Tennent, “each class is stationed between
certain walls of separation, which are impassable by the
purest virtue or the most conspicuous merit; ” or that,
to come to more recent times, and to use the words of
the late Mr. Wilson, in his speech before leaving for
India, “in India you see people tied down by caste, and,
whatever their talents or exertions may be, they cannot
rise.” Now, the history of many families that have
risen to eminence entirely belies this assertion; and the
evidences are so numerous, that I need not weary the
reader by quoting them. But one instance I may
perhaps mention, as the circumstances seem to me some-
what extraordinary, and a reference to them here may
induce some one to make more particular inquiries in
the locality alluded to. Buchanan notices that “in
Bhagulpore there were certain families who, from
having adopted a pure life, had, within the memory
of man, risen from the lowest dregs of the people to the
highest ranks of the nobility.” In this instance, how-
ever, I cannot help suspecting that the families must
have risen on something more substantial than their
pure habits. But in matters of this sort we are very
much in want (as indeed we are on almost every Indian
subject) of more detailed, and particularly substantiated,
BUT PARTIALLY AFFECTS SOCIAL ELEVATION. 273
evidence. As regards the subject of low castes raising
themselves in the social scale, I know of no instances
that have fallen within my own observation; but I have
obtained information from other parts of Mysore, the
truth of which I have no reason to doubt, although I
would advise the reader to receive what I have to say
on this point with the same caution that he should
receive all information which is even in the smallest
degree removed from the experience of personal observa-
tion. With this caution I may, then, observe that, from
information I have received, I have ample reason to
believe that, in the interior of Mysore, there are many
families of Pariahs who are as well off, in point of
cattle, cash, and land, as the average of the farmer caste,
notwithstanding that the forefathers of these Pariahs
were merely the servants of the farmer tribe. Nor is this
all. Many instances, I believe, may be pointed out of
members of the farmer tribe being the tenants of the
once-despised Pariah. The Pariah, it is true, does not
reap all the advantages from his altered circumstances
that might be expected in other countries, but it is a
mistake to suppose that wealth does not tell in India, as
it does elsewhere. The well-to-do Pariah (and in the
Nuggur division of Mysore I am told there are many
such) receives that respect which is invariably paid to
those who have much substance. He no longer stands
respectfully without the verandah of a farmer of ordinary
position, but takes his seat in the verandah itself, and on
terms of perfect equality. But the farmer will not eat
with his visitor, nor give him his daughter in marriage.
This, to us, would be a disagreeable reflection, no doubt;
but, in their present political state, I cannot see that the
happiness or prosperity of the people is in any way
WOL. I. T
274 CASTE.
affected by these facts, nor am I aware that any one has
attempted to prove that the natural comforts of the
people have been in any way lessened by these social
Separations.
Turning now to glance at the way in which caste
laws are sometimes set aside, it is impossible to avoid
suspecting that the instances given of caste feeling in
these respects, though perhaps true in themselves, are
not fair examples of what would universally occur in cases
of emergency, even with the most caste-observing people
in India. From the instances given (and those most
commonly given refer to natives preferring to die of
thirst rather than take water from the hands of a person
of inferior caste), people are led to believe that under
no circumstances will a breach of caste take place,
or be overlooked if it does take place, by members of
the caste. But the instances I have to give seem to
point to a contrary conclusion, and, if that is the case
with people whom I know to be extremely strict, it
seems very probable that we have adopted some very
exaggerated notions as to the rigidity of caste laws.
And what has contributed not a little to these delusions
is, that tricky servants frequently make caste a most con-
venient pretence for avoiding to do this or that, or as
an excuse wherever an excuse is for any purpose con-
venient. But however all this may be, the reader may
form his opinions from the instances I have to give.
The first instance I have to give of violation of caste
law is certainly the most extraordinary that I ever heard
of. The act was, indeed, a remarkable and touching
tribute of regard, or I may even say of affection, on the
part of a native overseer of the farmer caste in Mun-
zerabad, and was a better monument than any that
FEMARKABLE VIOZATION OF CASTE LA W. 275
could have been erected to one of the best and most
unselfish men I have ever met. When Mr. W.
(my late manager) unhappily died on the estate, this
overseer in question (who, I may mention, was one of
the party that forcibly opposed my clearing the forest
when I started in 1856), understanding that it was
considered by us as an honour to the deceased, volun-
teered to make one of the carrying party. This extra-
ordinary determination was absolutely forbidden by the
caste potail, or head man, who was present; but Rama
Gouda “ showed the same coolness and resolution that he
always did in the case of a bear or a tiger, and simply
saying, “Ilet my caste go to-day,” he made one of
the carrying party, in spite of every remonstrance.
Hundreds of all castes were present, but so strong
were their feelings of regard for Mr. W , that no
notice whatever was taken of the offence, which was so
publicly committed. The repugnance of all castes,
except the very lowest, to touching the body of a
European, is very well known to every one who has been
in India, and so fearful was the caste head man of sanc-
tioning, even with his presence, this violation of caste
law, that he immediately went home.
In the next instance I have to give, one of the Lin-
gayet caste (vegetarians, and abstainers from intoxicating
drinks) was wounded by a tiger, and there was a caste
question raised, as to whether, under the circumstances,
he should take wine. The occurrence came about in this
way. Some miles from my house I once wounded a
tiger, somewhat late in the day, and, owing to the broken
nature of the ground, and a general confusion that
* The farmers in Munzerabad invariably tack on the word “Gouda” to their
names, and it seems to answer for our Mr.
T 2
276 CASTE.
seemed to take possession of the people, it seemed impos-
sible to bring the affair to a satisfactory conclusion, so I
went home. The following morning I returned to take
up the track of the tiger, but it was unluckily reported
that the animal had quitted the jungle we had left him
in, so the party (I having been posted at a point where
the tiger would probably break cover, in case the report
should prove false), it appears, blundered carelessly into
the place where the animal had been last seen the evening
before. Now, this particular spot was full of a long sort
of reed that grows in swampy ground, so that the people
could not see far before them, and, to make a long story
short, it seems that the tiger bided his time, sprang
suddenly into the party, and gave one of them a fatal
bite in the loins. The moment I heard the three roars,
I expected that something disagreeable must have
occurred, and at once called for my sandwiches, partly to
fill up the time that would elapse before intelligence of
what had occurred should reach me, and in order that
my stomach and nervous system might not be affected
by attending to any man who might be wounded. On
arrival at the scene of events, I found a fine young
fellow of the Lingayet caste lying bathed in blood, and
my people vainly endeavouring to stanch the wounds.
He was half swooning away from loss of blood, and I
offered him some wine to keep up his strength. This,
however, he refused to take, unless the head man of his
village, who happened to be present, would consent.
The head man, evidently wishing to shirk the responsi-
bility, shook his head doubtfully; but the members of
his caste all called out—“It’s no matter; let him drink;”
and he drank accordingly. While this was going on, I
had a rough stretcher made, and, doing up his wounds as
AWOTHER INFRINGEMENT OF CASTE LAW 277
well as we could, sent him off on the way to his village.
While we were attending to the wounded man, rather
an amusing incident occurred. It appears that when
the tiger charged, one of the party, a tody-drawer, at
once climbed up a tree, and when the party retreated,
carrying off the wounded, he was afraid to come down.
His absence had not been remarked, and when we were
engaged in doing up the wounded man, the todyman,
who had taken heart and come down, slunk quietly out
of the jungle, and startled some of the party not a little,
as they thought that it was perhaps the tiger coming
down on them again. However, this todyman reported
that the tiger was still almost in the same spot where he
had been lying when he made his attack; and I then
proposed we should go into the jungle, and see how
we liked the look of him. But the tiger had given
such indications of temper that the main body of the
people seemed to have no desire to see him again,
and I think that only ten (and those mostly my own
tenants) accompanied me. As I was, Europeanly
speaking, single-handed, this may have seemed an
imprudent course, and no doubt it was not alto-
gether unattended with danger; but it luckily turned
out that the tiger was stone dead, though he was lying
in such a natural position that we had some doubts as
to whether he might not be shamming, even when we
got within fifteen yards of him. As we were skinning
the tiger, the wounded man (who had by that time
only been carried a few hundred yards) expired; so,
observing that it was “written on his forehead,” “we
took up our man and our skin, and went home.
* The natives imagine that every man’s fate is written in invisible characters
on his forehead.
278 CASTE.
These instances of infringement of caste rules will
show the reader the way in which they are sometimes
abandoned; and I could mention other minor points
where I have seen them occasionally abandoned. But
not only are these rules thus, on urgent occasions, sum-
marily set aside, but within a very short distance I have
observed an alteration of custom. For instance, on our
side of the river which separates our county from the
next, neither the farmers nor the tody-drawers will eat
of an animal that has even been touched after death by
a Pariah; whereas, on the other side of the river, the
Pariahs who came out shooting not only touched, but
carried a couple of wild boars we had killed. And yet
the people on one side of the river were exactly of the
same caste as those on the other. But the fact seems to
be, that many of the minor points of what is called caste
law have arisen from some accident, and in the course of
time have hardened into local customs.
And here, before bringing this chapter to a close, I
find it impossible to refrain from again alluding to the
numerous instances where caste has been made the
common scapegoat of every Indian difficulty. What is
the meaning of this? What is the meaning of that ?
Why won’t the natives do this, and why won’t they do
that ? Caste—and caste is the common refuge; and
with most of our countrymen who have tried to intro-
duce new customs or a new religion, caste has ever
been a handy and convenient peg on which to hang
any difficulties they may meet with, or any problem
they cannot readily solve. In short, it is hard to say
what difficulty has not been disposed of in this fashion.
Let us glance at two instances to illustrate my meaning.
For the first instance I cannot select, perhaps, a
MR. POPE'S REMARKS OW CASTE. 279
better example than that afforded by the Rev. G. U.
Pope, in the notes he has made when editing a second
edition of the valuable work of the Abbé Dubois. And,
in alluding to these foot-notes, it is impossible to repress
some feeling of annoyance that the valuable work of the
Abbé should, in an evil hour, have fallen into the
hands of a writer who has thought fit often, in a few
brief and contemptuous words, summarily to dismiss
and overrule those conclusions which were the result of
a life spent on more intimate terms with natives than
any I have ever been able to hear of And Mr. Pope's
statements are the more calculated to impose on the
general reader, as he speaks of having had “more than
twenty years of a somewhat intimate intercourse with
the Hindoos;” the fact being that he spent the greater
part (in fact, all but a few years, as far as I have been
able to ascertain) as head of the Grammar School on
the Neilgherry Hills, where he had no more opportunity
of having any intercourse with natives than a Hindoo
would have of gaining experience of the natives of
England, were he to take up his residence on the Gram-
pians, and interchange a few words occasionally with
the shepherds of those mountains. But as to what
caste has done. “Caste,” says Mr. Pope, “has pre-
vented the Hindoos from availing themselves of the
opportunities afforded them of acquiring the sciences,
arts, and civilisation of nations with whom they have
come into contact.” Caste, “the great petrifier,” we are
again told, is the real cause of the stagnation that
everywhere abounds. Caste, again, “upholds immutable
distinctions by arbitrary and absurd laws, which are
enforced by irresponsible authority, and maintains a
standard of right and wrong entirely independent of
28O CAS7"E.
the essential principles of moral science;” and, in order
that everything may be included at one blow, we are
finally told, in a note appended to the remarks of the
Abbé on the moral and social advantages of caste, that
“caste, and its offspring custom, are among the hin-
drances to all good in India.”
But it is still more curious to observe how men of
intelligence and observation can be led, by the force
of inherited opinion, into statements as to the effects of
caste which are actually contradicted by their own
experience. And in Mr. Raikes's interesting work,
“Notes of the North-Western Provinces,” we find an
instance of how people will always attribute everything
to this universal bugbear. Observing on the pride of
high caste, “which withers whatever it touches,” Mr.
Raikes informs us that the Brahmins and Rajpoots of
the rich province of Benares will not touch the plough,
owing to pride of caste. He next tells us that caste is
little regarded to the north of Allahabad, where, from
various causes, the demand for labour is greater. All of
which, being traced to its true cause, simply amounts to
this, namely, that where landed proprietors of good family
are well off, they naturally do not care to work, and that
in another part of the country, where they are not well
off, or cannot find labour, they do work. In the same
way, the author, after telling us that infanticide has at
one time or other been common all over the world,
tells us that in India it is entirely caused by caste.
Now, if we take caste to mean family pride solely, it
certainly has influenced the matter, or at least tended
to maintain the evil complained of; but I know of one
instance, at least, in India, where infanticide can be
traced to satisfactory causes, and amongst a people who
A/R. RA/KES OW THE EFFECTS OF CASTE. 281
have always been observed to be remarkably free from
what are called caste prejudices. The Toda tribe, on the
Neilgherry Hills, are polyandrists, and, in order to keep
down the number of the tribe, they naturally had
recourse to female infanticide. This they have now
abandoned, and my Toda guide very soon told me the
reason. He said, “Formerly we used to kill the females,
because we had little more than the produce of our
buffaloes to depend on ; but now that more people have
flocked to the hills we can let our lands, and get plenty
to eat.” He added, also, that the Government had ordered
them not to kill their children; but, unless their means
had improved, it is plain that a Government order would
have had little effect. But, as regards this subject of
infanticide, it seems to be a thing difficult to avoid,
whenever conditions arise which are favourable to its
extension; nor will repressive measures alone ever place
any very complete check upon it. Like every other
demand, it rises and falls with the necessities of the
situation, and can never be originally caused by any-
thing in the shape of caste feelings or regulations.
And, in accordance with the necessities of the situation,
we see that in this country it has arisen to what some
may call an alarming extent, and the disclosures of
baby-farming show that infanticide has here become
thoroughly naturalised. But it unfortunately seems that
infanticide under repression operates more disadvantage-
ously than infanticide which has been unrestrained by
penal enactments; and we need not require any very
lengthened arguments to show that unrestricted infanti-
cide is at once more merciful and more effectual than
that miserable copy which our civilisation has compelled
people to have recourse to here. I do not, of course,
282 CASTE :
blame our legislation on these subjects; I am merely
pointing to the results of restricted freedom, and it is
impossible to refrain from coming to the conclusion that
this restriction of free action, if it has limited some
evils (which may be doubted), has also caused others
Which have a more than counterbalancing effect. A
tribe or race of people, foreseeing evils of various kinds
that must arise from over-population, takes effectual
means of limiting the evils by inflicting a momentary
physical pain on a being insensible to any other feeling.
The objects selected for destruction being those which
cause a multiplication of the evil from which the people
wish to be delivered, they therefore march upon their
object with a clearly-defined method. But in this
country, the remedy, which a multiplicity of causes has
called into action, acts fitfully, and acting timidly and
indecisively, an immense amount of suffering ensues
from the slow doing to death of those unhappy children,
the remains of which are so frequently discovered. But
here I find that, instead of closing this chapter, I am
insensibly wandering into a discussion as to what may
be called comparative infanticide, a subject which I
fancy is well-nigh inexhaustible. The matter, however,
is one of considerable interest, and my object in alluding
to it at such length is merely with the view of inducing
others, whenever they meet with infanticide in India, or
in other parts of Asia, to trace out the causes that have
led to it. One thing, however, we may consider as cer-
tain, and that is, that infanticide must always originate
from the necessities of the situation; and amongst these
necessities I, of course, include the desire to avoid shame,
or the prospect of shame in the family, or starvation, as
well as the fact that women are an encumbrance to Some
AWOT A CA USAE OF INFANT/C/DE. 283
tribes. Some people, I may add, are under the impression
that polyandric habits, when once established, become
necessarily a cause of infanticide. But we have no
means of knowing that this was ever the case, while the
Coorgs may be pointed to as a race who once were
polyandrous, but who were never, that I am aware of,
accused of infanticide. The explanation of this, I appre-
hend, is to be found in the fact that their circumstances
were comfortable enough to preclude any necessity for
keeping down the population.
It is time now that I should bring this chapter to a
close, and I accordingly proceed to sum up those con-
clusions which I assume to have been established; but
in doing so I shall, however, merely take notice of those
points which seem to me to be of paramount importance.
In the first place, then, we compared the morality of
our British counties, as regards the connection of the
sexes and the use of alcohol, with the morality of the
Indian county of Munzerabad; and, having come to
the conclusion that the morality of Munzerabad is supe-
rior, I think we are justified in concluding that the
morality of Munzerabad, being mainly maintained by
caste, the laws of caste have acted more effectually than
all the religious instruction that has for centuries been
lavished on the people of this country; or, to put the
case in shorter terms, we may assert that, as regards the
branches of morality alluded to, caste has beaten Chris-
tian influences.
In the next place, we took into consideration the
action of our missionaries as regards caste, and, having
seen that they have always insisted on their converts
entirely renouncing customs which can be proved to
produce the most valuable results, we came to the con- -
284. CASTE.
clusion that it has been a fortunate thing for India that
its peoples have rejected our hide-bound interpretation
of Christianity. We then inquired as to whether the
missionaries had any right to debar from the advantages
of Christianity those who, wishing to become Chris-
tians, yet desired to retain their social customs; and,
having come to the conclusion that there is nothing
idolatrous in these customs, we have distinctly asked
those interpreters of Christianity whom we have in
India to tell us by whose authority they have ven-
tured to act in a way which, as has been shown, the
apostles never did as regards the prejudices of their
Jewish converts. And generally, as regards the action
of our missionaries in this matter, we have felt ourselves
justified in asserting that our English missions have
inflicted an incalculable injury on the cause of Chris-
tianity, by presenting it to the people of India as some-
thing that must necessarily tear the whole framework of
their society to pieces.
We then inquired more particularly into the origin of
caste, and, having seen that it never could have ori-
ginated in the way our missionaries suppose it to have
done, we hazarded a conjecture as to the way in which
it probably did originate, and saw grounds for supposing
that the distinctions of caste came naturally about, and
that they were in principle calculated to effect exactly
the same ends that the Jewish lawgivers had in view
when they framed that Levitical law which effectually
prevented the Jews from mingling socially with the races
they lived amongst. We then looked at caste from a
sanitary point of view, and came to the conclusion that,
in consequence of the carrion-eating habits of the lowest
castes, and of their liability to transmit the germs of
SUMA/AA’ P. 285
disease, the rules which prevented them from coming
into contact with the higher castes, either in the Way of
taking the sacrament, or in any other way, are of the
greatest value. We next inquired into the effects of
caste as regards social intercourse, and especially as
regards the exercise of hospitality amongst people of
different castes, and saw reason to think that the re-
strictions of caste, with, perhaps, the exception of the
very lowest, formed no bar whatever to the exercise
of hospitality. Glancing subsequently at the action of
caste feeling in confining the sympathies of individuals
more especially to the members of their own caste, we
came to the conclusion that though caste had undoubt-
edly the effect of contracting the feelings within a
narrow circle, there was to be found a compensating
advantage in the fact that the claims of caste produced,
in the aggregate, a greater amount of charity, and, in
short, were calculated to produce a better general result
than would be arrived at in the absence of caste feelings.
And, as illustrations of the advantages of this caste
feeling, we pointed to the fact of there being no poor-
houses in India, and especially to the Jews in England,
as affording an example of the favourable effects of
caste feeling. After this, we pointed to the fact that,
though caste had the effect of keeping one caste or order
of men above another, it had also a levelling tendency
within each caste, and produced an important point of
equality which no poverty can destroy. We then took
into consideration some facts which seemed to show that
families could raise themselves to a higher rank in society
by adopting the purer habits of the classes above them;
and we also saw that the influence of wealth does, to a
very great degree, elevate a man of low caste in the
286 CASTE.
social scale. We next saw reason to suppose that we
have hitherto been labouring under very exaggerated
notions as to the stringency of caste regulations, and
two instances were given to illustrate the way in which
caste laws are sometimes set summarily aside. And,
finally, we pointed out, and gave some illustrations to
prove, that, with most of our countrymen who have
either tried to introduce new customs or in any way to
alter native habits of action, caste has ever been made,
and very unjustly made, the common scapegoat.
One Word more. The absolute good that caste has
done may be briefly summed up. It has acted as a
strong moral police, and as a preserver of order and
decorum in the community,” and it has prevented the
spread of bad habits and customs, more especially that
of drinking, as far as large numbers of the people are
concerned. On the other hand, caste is said to have hin-
dered the progress of the people taken as a whole. But
in every instance where we have really tried the intro-
duction of any art, the removal of any public crime (as
suttee and human sacrifice, for instance), the improve-
ment of any cultivation, the introduction of education,
or of new means of moving from place to place, we have
either found caste to be no impediment at all, or an
impediment so slight as not to be worth mentioning.
* Abbé Dubois.
# It is satisfactory to learn that caste feelings and regulations have a favour-
able influence with natives, even when they go to a foreign country; and it is
equally satisfactory to quote the evidence of a gentleman who laughs at caste as
an absurd custom. Mr. W. Labonadière, in his work of “The Coffee Planter in
Ceylon,” writes as follows: “The coolies who resort to Ceylon are of various
castes. Those mostly preferred by planters are the low castes, such as ‘polleus’
(sic), shanars, and pariahs, as being more accustomed to and fit for hard work;
but, as a class, they are more given to drink, spend their money more freely, and
are more quarrelsome than the higher classes, whom their caste forbids to drink
arrack or spirits, and who are more cleanly in their habits, better behaved (as
fearing to lose caste), who have land of their own on the coast, and are more in-
terested in working regularly and gaining their wages to take away with them."
CELATPTER VII.
IRELIGION.
WHEN, talking about the Indian faith, Dean Swift
said that “to me the difference appears little more than
this, that they are put oftener upon their knees by their
fears, and we by our desires,” he hit with exact
accuracy the prevailing features in the thoughts and
feelings expressed in Asiatic as compared with European
religions. We look forward to something positive; and
our prayers are full of expressions which show that we
not only expect a cessation of evil, and pain, and sorrow,
but the accession of positive and exalted happiness.
They, on the other hand, want merely to be let alone,
and to be allowed a perfect rest from pain, and care, and
worry. We look forward to a glorious resurrection,
when the soul, some think directly, and others think
after having gone through a purgatory process, shall
enter into possession of Supreme happiness. Their ideas,
at the best, are only that we shall go through purgatory
in order to be punished for what we have done wrong;
and as to what may come after, they do not know, nor
apparently do they much care. Nor, because we find in
their older writings hopes of happiness hereafter, does
that at all alter the general facts as regards the body of
the people. They are still, as ever, sent to their knees
288 AºA'/.../G/OAV.
by their fears, and this, too, entirely irrespective of the
speculative opinions as expressed in the ancient Hindoo
or Buddhist writings. And everywhere do we find the
same spirit prevailing. James Bruce asked the people
in Ceylon why they thought so much of their devil-
worship, and took so little heed of Buddha. “Oh!” they
answered, “Buddha is a good god, and he won’t do us
any harm, while devils will bring upon us all manner of
evils;” and throughout India we find exactly the same
principle. We find everywhere a vague belief in the one
great God who delights not in harming mankind, and we
find a positive and active belief in some evil-working
spirit who requires to be constantly worshipped, and
whose natural feelings of ill-will to man require to be
repeatedly and incessantly appeased. With us the
devil was never worshipped, and has now quite gone
out of fashion; with them he is supreme. Let us inquire
for a few moments into the causes of his supremity.
In considering these Asiatic peoples we must not
consider them as merely putting up with the devil, on
the principle that one thing is good until you have
found a better. We must consider them as a people
who have had a choice offered to them, and chances
afforded of selecting one of two principles for adoration
and worship. I do not say that both principles were
offered simultaneously; on the contrary, it is probable
that the evil principle was the only one that at all came
home to them in the first instance; but it is certain that,
in the Buddhism of Ceylon and the Brahminism of India,
the people had a sufficient basis of information to go
on, and exalted conceptions of the Deity presented for
adoption, or at least within reach, if they had had an
appetite to imbibe them. In short, they had a choice
GENERAL FEA 7'URES OF THE POPULAR BEZ/EF. 289
between a religion in which are to be found lofty con-
ceptions of good, and exalted examples of virtue and
piety, and a system of paying homage to evil-working
spirits, through whom it was imagined that all pain, and
evil, and sorrow are brought about in this world. And
the general result was, that they took to a great deal of
devil-worshipping, and a very little, or in some instances
none, of the worship of the great Ruler of the universe.
From the devil they expected a great deal of harm and
no good, and from God they expected no harm, nor any
especial benefit. Now, the question is, what made them
take this view and cling to it? and how is it, for instance,
that to this day, when the hour of trial, and of pain, and
sickness comes, the people converted to Christianity in
Ceylon send for the devil-worshippers, though they are
often turned out of the Christian church for so doing 2
The answer is simple, and has been made a hundred
times before; but simple as it is, it is not so easily to be
realised by people who, not having very much imagina-
tion, or never having been in tropical climates, are unable
to realise the action on the mind of nature on a grand
and overwhelming scale. But when we come to contrast
the course and forces of nature in the tropics with the
milder phenomena of Europe, we shall see little reason to
Wonder at the tendency to superstition being greater and
more permanent in the East than in the West. When
we come to consider that in Europe man is not held
down by famines and by pestilence, that he has not
been disturbed by storms of terrific violence, nor
depressed by nature on the grandest and gloomiest
Scale, we cease to wonder at the bolder tone he takes,
and that he endeavours more and more to assume an
ascendency over nature. And in Europe itself, though
WOL. I. U
290 RELIGIO W.
in a milder form, we see the same tendency prevailing;
and accordingly we find in the mountaineers of the
Tyrol and the Scottish Highlands a thousand super-
stitious fancies which are unknown to those who live
amongst the quiet home-scenery of the civilised and
cultivated regions. Nor in the tropical countries them-
selves are we without degrees of superstition, advancing
and receding with the aspect of the scenery, and the
violence or mildness of the phenomena of nature. On
the western frontier hills, where the south-west monsoon
bursts with tremendous force, and where man lives
contiguous to those vast and gloomy forests which form
the boundary between the civilisation of the table-land
and the inhabited parts of the low country, the people
are a thousand times more superstitious than they are in
the open plains of the interior of the province. On the
wild border-land the storm-gods come driving along,
filling the air, and riding on the whirlwind, and the
woods, and hills, and pools in the recesses of the forest
are haunted and peopled with mysterious sprites, to
whom man feels bound to pay homage under pain of
incurring all manner of evils; but in the rolling plains of
the table-land, where there is nothing of gloom or of
grandeur, and where gentle showers and a tamer land-
scape take the place of those torrents of rain and those
black masses of cloud which for weeks together shut out
all signs of sun, moon, and stars, superstitious fancies are
proportionately few, and man pays little heed, in conse-
quence, to those principles of evil which are so assiduously
worshipped in the wild mountains of the frontier.
We have now taken a general view of the situation,
and of the fact that the religious system in Vogue
amongst the Indians consists of a devil-worship, varying
THE AAVC/EAV7' WEZO/C AWA/TH. 29 I
in intensity according to the general surroundings of
the people, and of a knowledge and limited degree of
worship of the great Ruler of the universe under one or
other of his various manifestations.
Let us now take account of this worship of the great
beneficent Ruler of the universe, the God of the ancient
Vedic faith.
About twelve hundred years before Christ came upon
the earth, there were collected a number of prayers and
hymns somewhere in Northern India.” When and by
whom they were composed is entirely uncertain. We only
know that they were gathered together, that they were
written in Sanscrit, that the work is the oldest known
to exist in India, and that it is called the Rig-Veda.
To the Rig-Veda were appended treatises called Brāh-
manas, and after the Brähmanas we come to a class
of compositions called Aranyakas and Upanishads. Fol-
lowing on these, we arrive at the various systems of
Hindoo philosophy. It is not, of course, my intention
to attempt an account, or even the briefest analysis, of
these ancient writings; and I only mention them with
the view of alluding to certain general principles which
are contained in what may be called the Hindoo scrip-
tural books, and which are of the deepest interest, as
showing what man's feelings and aspirations were in
those ancient times—how man yearned to comprehend
his God, how he speculated on the origin of the universe,
and the ultimate destiny of the soul, and how he recog-
nised the existence of sin, and strove to repent and be
delivered from it. And on this acknowledgment of sin
and desire for deliverance it is impossible to help quoting,
as we pass along, that old Rig-Vedic prayer:-
* See Appendix E.
U 2
292 RELIGION.
“May our sin, Agni, be repented of.
“Thou whose countenance is turned to all sides, art our defender:
may our sin be repented of. Do thou convey us in a ship across the
Sea for our welfare : may our sin be repented of.” -
And equally impossible is it to pass over this touching
Hindoo litany:—
“Let me not yet, O Varuna, enter into the house of clay; have
mercy, Almighty, have mercy!
“If I go along trembling, like a cloud driven by the wind; have
mercy, Almighty, have mercy!
“Through want of strength, thou strong and bright God, have I
gone to the wrong shore; have mercy, Almighty, have mercy!
“Thirst came upon the worshipper, though he stood in the midst
of the waters; have mercy, Almighty, have mercy
“Whenever we men, O Varuna, commit an offence before the
heavenly host; whenever we break thy law through thoughtlessness;
have mercy, Almighty, have mercy l’’
And in another hymn it is touchingly pleaded—
“It was not our doing, O Varuna, it was necessity, an intoxicating
draught, passion, dice, thoughtlessness. The old is near to mislead
the young ; even sleep brings unrighteousness.”
Here, then, we have decisive evidence of the recog-
nition of sin, and the need for repentance. From this
base naturally followed the idea of sacrifice for the
remission of sins and the purification of the soul. And
accordingly we find, in the ceremonies of the Soma
sacrifice, a complete system by which man is cleansed
from sin and born again; and by the drinking of the
juice of the Soma-plant, which becomes itself divine,
man participates in the nature of the Deity.
“We’ve quaffed the Soma bright,
And are immortal grown ;
We've entered into light,
And all the gods have known.
“What mortal now can harm,
Or foeman vex us more ?
Through thee, beyond alarm,
Immortal God, we soar.”
VEDIC DOCTR/WES. 293
In these books, then, we see the doctrine of one God,
of the perception of sin, the need for repentance, the
necessity for being born again, the doctrine of Sacrifice
with the view of being reconciled, the fact of a juice
being drunk which was of divine nature, the entry of
something divine into the nature of man, and the rising
of the purified soul to God.
Whether these doctrines that were thought out of old
were ever preached in earnest we have no means of
knowing; but whether they were or not, we know as
a fact that they must have been unsuited to the times,
and to the intelligence of the people, and that, conse-
quently, they bore no fruit. But though it has been com-
plained that the worship and doctrines of the old Hindoos
did not take a more practical turn, and push forward the
mind into inquiries more advantageous to humanity, it
must not therefore be supposed that doctrines so sublime
passed through the air like a ship through the water,
and left no trace behind. It was not for nothing that
these old sages taught that God “is of infinite power,
the ruler of the universe; that God is the gift of charity,
the offering, the fire of the altar; that by God the
sacrifice is performed; and that God is to be obtained by
him who makes God alone the object of his works.” It
was not for nothing that God was made to speak, and
say, “If any one offer me a leaf, a flower, fruit, or water
with devotional intent, I accept it. Those who worship
me with devotion dwell in me, and I also in them.
Even women, Vaisyas, and Sudras take the highest path,
if they come to me. Whatsoever thou doest, that do as
an offering to me.” It was not for nothing that they
prayed, “From the unreal lead me to the real; from
darkness lead me to light; from death to immortality.”
2.94. RELIGION.
Nor was it in vain that they taught that “the man who,
performing the duties of life, and, quitting all interest in
them, placeth them upon God, floats like a lotus on a
lake, unruffled by the tide.”
The effect of those waves of truth which originated
With these old philosophers seems, at first sight, to have
passed away as some empty sound, and to have been lost
for ever. But truth once attained is never lost. It may
be buried under the aberrations of ages; it may be
Smothered by the designs of an ambitious priesthood,
and those heaps of eccentric novelties which the ram-
bling nature of man delights to accumulate. But it is
like latent heat and stored-up forces, which are not the
less existent because our senses are unable immediately
to detect them. In spite of every obstacle, those sub-
lime doctrines have been handed on from generation to
generation. They might burn dimly, but they still
burned on, and every now and then struggled to the
light. They appeared in Nanak, who established the faith
of the Seiks. They came to the surface when Dădă, the
cotton-cleaner, preached, “Draw forth your mind from
within, and dedicate it to God; because, if ye subdue
the imperfections of your flesh, ye will think only of
God.” They came forth again in Tukaram, the shop-
keeper, who promulgated doctrines as pure as ever
emanated from the lips of man, and who taught that
religious ceremonies and outward acts have no power
to release from sin, and that, without faith, all is vain.
Amongst those who have adopted the tenets of the
Brahmo Somaj, these ancient doctrines have burst forth
anew with a light and fervour that will never die. To
the present day, amongst the rude hill-men of Mun-
zerabad, the doctrine of the unity of God is still alive.
VED7C TEACHINGS LATEWT, WOT LOST. 295
Just as life has been found in the polar ice, and in the
lowest beds of the Atlantic, and just as it will again
be found in many an unlooked-for place, so, when We
bring a more delicate or searching observation to bear,
do we find unexpectedly, and in corners where you
would not be inclined to suspect its existence, a know-
ledge of the unity of God, and a groundwork from
which we may safely build. “Why do you worship
these various gods?” I once said to a rude, unsophisti-
cated hill-man. “God is one.” “I know that,” he
answered; “these are merely the peons of the great
God.” And in one of the ancient books God is made
to say, “Those who worship the indivisible, unmani-
fested, omnipresent, are esteemed the most devoted;
but the labour of directing thought to an object without
manifest form is great, and with difficulty attained by
mortals, and worship is recommended under the mani-
fested form.” “Why,” again, I have often asked, “do
you worship that image? Can any good come from a
stone P” and the invariable answer was, “This, Wisdom,
is only a form '' (roopa).
Bow the sacerdotal tribe from whom the priests were
selected gradually rose to power does not seem to be
exactly known. But though we cannot mark the steps
of their progress, we know that they took the steps that
all priests must take who wish to command and maintain
a dominant position ; and even if we did not know the
means they adopted, we might, from our knowledge of
man, as safely infer them. Man being man on the
banks of the Tweed, the Tiber, and the Ganges, we
naturally find the Brahmin priest, the Roman Catholic
priest, and the Scotch minister of the seventeenth century
doing precisely the same things. We find them claiming
296 A&EZ/GYOM.
to be the sole interpreters of the sacred books, and
the Sole ministers of God on earth; and we find them
establishing and regulating schools and colleges, and
training up man in the groove they thought it best for
him to work in. And the difficulties of the Brahmins
seem to have been much the same as those of the
Western priests. They had considerable difficulty in
maintaining their authority, and found it no easy matter
to obtain as much money as they thought to be their
due. Their disciples were ever departing from the faith,
and abandoning, or rather neglecting, the Brahminical
worship to run after strange gods. But Brahminism
never seems to have been the curse of India in the same
sense that the persecuting priest became the curse of
many a country in Europe. They were either wiser
than their brethren in Europe, or they had not the same
opportunities of doing evil; and hence it was that their
influence remained unshaken, and was upheld with little
change from generation to generation, and we may even
say for thousands of years. But that power, so long
maintained, has been shaken to its base, and already has
almost crumbled away before that vast wave of thought
which, emanating from the West, has silently spread
from one end of India to the other, till in the remotest
jungles it is boldly said that no one cares about the
Brahmins now. And what is it we see rising amongst
the ruins of these ancient forms of worship 2 And the
answer comes, “Nothing, literally nothing.” -
I am now, with an object which will be distinctly
declared further on, going to give at considerable length
an account of the life, and a number of quotations from
the writings, of an old Maharatta poet, who lived about
the end of the sixteenth and the commencement of the
TUKARAM, THE MAHARATTA POET. 297
seventeenth century. The life and translations I take
entirely from a most interesting article by Sir Alexander
Grant, which appeared in the Fortnightly Review some
years ago. And I quote these translations in particular,
not because the sentiments contained in them are any-
thing new, but because the well-known abilities of the
translator afford ample proof that the writings of the
Maharatta poet have been rendered with all possible
accuracy and faithfulness. And in case to the English
reader these sentiments of the poet may seem too ex-
alted and pure to have emanated from any one who had
not read the Bible, I may mention that these transla-
tions are alluded to at considerable length in “Mission
Life,” by a native, who signs himself “A Converted
Brahmin.” This gentleman, indeed, takes some excep-
tion to the translation of one or two terms; but he
assures the reader that, so far from Tukaram's preaching
containing anything uncommon, sentiments far more
exalted can be found in the Bhagavata and other ancient
Hindoo writings. And it is certainly satisfactory to
have evidence from such a source that Tukaram's senti-
ments are rather below than above the tone of thought
as expressed in the ancient Hindoo books.
Some time between the years 1588 and 1649 there
lived, ten miles from Poona, and in the village of Dehu,
a shopkeeper called Tukaram. He is said to have had two
wives, and to have been rather unhappy in his domestic
circumstances. Stories, too, are related to show his
extreme simplicity and ignorance of worldly matters,
and these are all the circumstances connected with his
private life that we have any tradition of. He was of
the sect of Vithoba-worshippers, which appears to have
arisen in the fourteenth century. About this sect there
298 • , A&AEE/GYOW.
seems to be some difference of opinion; but Dr. Ste-
venson describes the worshippers of Withoba as Bauddho-
Vaishnavas, or a mixture of Buddhism with Vishnu-
worship. But we have little to do here with the tenets
of the sect that Tukaram belonged to, as our business is
mainly to take a general survey of his feelings as shown
in his works. We may, therefore, pass on to a con-
sideration of his writings without further remark. But,
before doing so, it may be as well to mention that about
One hundred and fifty years after the worthy shop-
keeper's death, his biography was written by the
religious poet Mahipati, and here, of course, we find
ourselves surrounded by the atmosphere of miraculous
legend.
Tukaram, we are told, proceeded to the bank of the
river Indrayani, where he composed certain songs and
bade farewell to his friends. Then appeared a heavenly
chariot, brighter than the sun, and the eyes of all were
blinded as if by lightning; whereupon Tukaram entered
the chariot and ascended to heaven, and the holy men
he left on earth saw a long path leading into the world
above; they heard bells ringing, and heavenly choristers
praising God; and thus Tukaram departed. This hap-
pened in the morning; and the people, expecting his
return, waited until the evening, when all went away
but his fourteen disciples, who remained and continued
fasting for three days. On the fifth day his cymbal and
cloak fell down, whereupon they departed, and, having
bathed, went to the temple. Now, Tukaram had pro-
mised, while yet on earth, to a certain Lingayet shop-
Reeper, to appear to him at his death, and accordingly,
when the hour of death had arrived, Tukaram appeared;
but the shopkeeper alone could perceive him, and though
TUATAAAM”.S. DOCTR/WAL BELIEF. 299
he put sweet-smelling powder on Tukaram's forehead,
and hung garlands around his neck, his friends saw no
form but the garlands only, suspended apparently in the
air. “To faithful men,” says his biographer, “Tukaram
still appears, and of this we have many witnesses. This
Tukaram,” he concludes, “the friend of the World, the
good teacher, has been found by us. He dwells in
the hearts of all. Through him has this book been
composed.” -
There have been, and still are, many disputes amongst
the Hindoos as to the best method of attaining God.
Some think that there is no road like the road of faith;
others, again, place reliance on the road of works; while
others, again, think that the road of knowledge is the
only one. Tukaram, however, pronounced decidedly in
favour of the road of faith. And in doing so, he acted
similarly to Dādū, the cotton-cleaner, who, like Tukaram,
attached the greatest importance to bhakti, a term which
Sir Alexander Grant translates as faith, but which,
according to Mrs. Manning, consists of a union of im-
plicit faith with incessant devotion. When this was
attained they thought it to be superior to works or
knowledge. The Brahmins, on the other hand, taught
the doctrine of a varied and expensive ceremonial, com-
bined with good works and the pursuit of knowledge.
The first was obviously a religion for the poor, and the
second for the rich. And here we cannot fail to be
struck with the exact resemblance between these Oppo-
site doctrinal opinions and those of the Calvinists and
Arminians. The Calvinistic reliance on faith cost far
less than the Arminian reliance on works. The cotton-
cleaner and the shopkeeper had a natural tendency to
exalt their cheap faith—which was within the reach of
3OO RELIGIOW.
the poorest, and placed the poorest and richest on an
equality—over the expensive ceremonies of the Brah-
minical teachers. Nor will it satisfy man to say that a
little work effected by him who has little is as much in
the sight of God as much work effected by him who has
much. The poor man would rather be put in a position
where not even the shadow of apparent difference can
be found. That position he absolutely obtains by the
doctrines of faith and devotion, and these doctrines he
naturally prefers. Hence, as an eminent author has
shown, Calvinism is a sign of the democratic, and
Arminianism of the aristocratic spirit. When society
tends to equality, the former has a tendency to prevail,
while the latter is predominant when the upper classes
are very high and the lower very low.
I now proceed to give the whole of such portions
of Tukaram as seem best to illustrate the tone of
thought and feeling expressed by the Maharatta poet;
and I purposely abstain from all comment, as it is better
to allow Tukaram to speak entirely for himself. An
explanatory note, however, has here and there been
added.
I.
“Sing the song with earnestness, making pure the heart;
If you would attain God, then this is an easy way.
Make your heart lowly, touch the feet of Saints,
Of others do not hear the good or bad qualities, nor think of them.
Tukā says, ‘Be it much or little, do good to others.’”
II.
“If you regard another's wife as your mother, what loss is it 2
If you refrain from blaming others or coveting their wealth, is this
any pain 2 Tell me,
If when you sit down, you utter the name of Rāma, what labour
is that ?
Tukā says, “To obtain God, no other efforts are necessary.’”
TUKAA-AM”.S WR/7/WG.S. 30 I
III.
“There is no need to place the child in the mother's hands—
By her own instinct she draws it to her. &
Why should I take thought 2 He whose business it is, will be
responsible.
Without its asking, the mother keeps sweet things for the child,
(Else) in eating them she feels no satisfaction.
When it is engaged in play she seeks and brings it ;
Sitting down, she presses it close to her breast.
When it is sick, she is restless as the parched corn on the fire.
Tukā says, “Take no thought for your own body—
The mother will not allow the child to be hurt.’”
IV.
“With all my heart, I am come to you for protection,
With body, and voice, and mind, O God.
Nothing else is admitted to my thoughts.
My desire remains fixed on you.
There is a heavy load on me,
Except you, who will remove it, O God 2
I am your slave—you are my Master;
I have followed you from afar.
Tukā says, “I have put in an execution for debt,
Grant me a meeting for the settlement of accounts.
3 y 3
The last two lines, as Sir Alexander Grant points out,
refer to the Indian custom of a creditor sitting down
before the door of his debtor, and refusing to move till
his claims have been satisfied.
W.
“Lowliness is good, O God; then no man's envy will prevail.
By a great flood trees are carried away,
While the rushes there remain ;
If the waves of the river come,
They bend low and the waves pass over them.
Tukā says, “This is the fruit of falling low,
No man's strength will prevail against one.’”
VI.
“Spitting out greediness, pride, and hypocrisy, I sing the praise of
God ;
I am become indifferent to my body, I have no other desire but
Oſlé.
3O2 - A&AE//GYOW.
Considering wealth to be like poverty, I have put it aside;
Worldly distractions are’removed, and Tuká remains pure.”
- VII.
“For this cause I have endured toil,
Namely, that my last day might be sweet.
Now I have securely obtained rest,
The motion of my desires has ceased.
I rejoice at the outlay I have made,
By it I have got good fortune.
Tukā says, “Salvation is the bride I have married,
Now there shall be revelry for four days.’”
VIII.
“Pity, patience, calm, where these three are, there is the abode of
God.
He came running to the house, and finding an asylum there,
remains.
In the place where His praises are sung, as a crowd of beggars run
(where there is a chance of alms), so he comes.
Tukā says, “By mention of his name, worship is performed, and
God is obtained.’”
IX.
“For thinking upon God no separate time is required,
It should go on at all times;
That mouth is blessed, which always utters ‘Narayan.'
Learn to place your affections on the highest,
All else that is spread out is in vain,
So Tukā advises all men always.”
X.
“Salvation is not difficult for us to obtain,
It is clearly to be found in the bundle on our back.
If we desire the pleasures of faith,
Our longing for them shall be satisfied.
You give, O God, each man his due and what is fit :
Acknowledging it to be good, I accept it readily.
Tukā says, “If you like, give me this world,
But give me an asylum for my affections.’”
“The great object of horror,” says Sir Alexander
Grant, “to the mind of a religious Hindoo, is the
prospect of being born over and over again into this
miserable world. Tukaram's resignation to the will of
TUKARAM DAEAVO UAVCES AVAWDOO FESTIVALS. 303
God is so great, that he professes himself ready to bear
this curse of prolonged individuality, provided only that,
as long as he is in this world, he may have God as the
object of his affections.”
We now come to a denunciation of the uselessness of
the ceremonies practised at one of the Hindoo festivals.
XI.
“When Jupiter enters Leo, the barbers and the priests enrich them-
selves ;
In the mind are millions of sins,
But externally the man shaves his head and his beard.
What is shaved, that is removed,
But tell me, what is altered in the man 2
His vices are not changed,
Which would be the sign of the removal of his sin.
“Without faith,’ says Tuká, “all is in vain.'”
XII.
“This is called ‘sin,’ if doubt remains in the mind;
In the mind itself are both merit and guilt,
The highest good consists of noblest thoughts.
As is the seed, so are the fruits,
Excellent or inauspicious.
Tukā says, “To purify the mind, that is good.’”
XIII.
“Having gathered wealth by honest trade,
One should spend it with justice.
He alone will obtain an excellent end,
And will enjoy an excellent banquet,
Who does good to others, and knows not how to reproach them;
To whom others' wives are ever as sisters and mothers;
Who is merciful to the creatures, and cherishes cattle;
And in the desert gives water to the thirsty;
Who is calm and never blames any, -
And exalts the dignity of his elders.
Tukā says, “This is the fruit of áshramas,”
The climax of asceticism.’”
* The “áshramas” are the four divisions of a Brahmin’s life—bachelorhood,
housekeeping, retirement, mendicancy.
3O4. RE/IGION.
XIV.
“He who calls those his own
Who are vexed and troubled,
He should be recognised as a saint :
God Surely must dwell with him.
He that takes to his heart
One who has no protector,
And shows to his servants
The same kindness which he shows to his sons,
Tukā says, “Beyond all expression, he is the image of God.’”
The following expresses the small value of outward
signs compared with the internal graces of the heart and
mind:—
XV.
“Whoso is pure of heart and sweet of speech,
It matters not if he have a rosary on his neck or no.
Whoso has made clear the way of self-knowledge,
It matters not if he has clotted hair on his head or no.
Whoso is passionless towards his neighbour's wife,
It matters not if there be ashes on his body or no.
Whoso is blind to another's wealth and dumb in blaming,
You may point to him as a saint, says Tuká.”
The next stanza illustrates the strong hold that the
doctrine of the eternal identity of the soul had on the
mind of Tukaram. One school amongst the Hindoos
holds that the soul, after final purification, is as a piece
of salt when put into water. The piece of Salt no longer
exists, though the whole water has become salt. Another
favourite illustration is that of likening body and soul to
water enclosed in a bottle in the middle of the sea. The
bottle at last is broken, and the water it contains at once
loses its identity. The opposite school maintains that
the soul ever remains distinct from God, and remains
contemplating and praising Him for ever; and the
following stanza expresses Tukaram's sentiments as to
the impossibility of his ever being able to relinquish
the praise of the Almighty:—
7"UKARAM'S FARE WEL L. 305
XVI.
“At first he was one of Khandoba's mendicants,
By good luck he became a captain of horse ;
But his beggar's cry would not stop,
His original nature would not depart.
At first he was a village astrologer,
Then a king's throne fell to his lot ;
But his proclaiming of the almanac would not stop,
His original nature would not depart.
At first she was a servant,
Then she became chief queen ;
But her running about would not stop,
Her original nature would not depart.
At first Tukå was the companion of Saints,
Then he was identified with Pandurang;
But his repetition of the name of God would not stop,
His original nature would not depart.” -
XVII.
“Who regards this restless world 2
My friends are the people of Hari;
My time passes in musing upon God,
Accumulated pleasure remains.
I have no trouble, not even in dreams;
Night and day pass on.
Tukā says, “The fruition of God is a feast of excellent flavour.’”
I had here intended closing my extracts from Sir
Alexander Grant’s interesting paper, but find it impos-
sible to resist quoting what may be called Tukaram's
Farewell, which was supposed to be written just before
he was taken up into Vaikunth, the heaven of
Vishnu :—
- XVIII,
“I am going to my village,"
Accept my farewell.
Till this time I have lived in your village :
Continue to think kindly upon me.
* The word village amongst the Hindoos seems to express all that we mean by
the word home, and the natives in Munzerabad used often to ask me when I was
going to my village; and, in alluding to my departure for England, I used always
to say in Canarese, literally, “I am going to my village.” . - -
WOL. I. X
306 A&AEZ/GYOAV."
Henceforth there will be no more going and coming.
All talk has come to its natural end.
Utter the names of Rāma, Krishma, and Withal;
Tukä is going to Waikunth.”
XIX,
“Within and without my house may you live happily;
Give my humble salutation to the elders.
To the sweetness of the honey the bee flies.
When the fold of the garment is torn, it cannot be replaced ;
When the stream of the river has reached the ocean,
It never goes back.
Receive this word carefully;
Tuká has gone ; he will never return.”
. XX.
“O my friends, O good people, take the name of Rāma.
Tell me truly, who is there beside 2
‘Although the gem of our village is lost,
Yet no one informed us,” so you will say;
Therefore I have made known to all my going.
One should not walk in the path of righteousness alone ;
With loads of flags and the dinning of drums,
Go the servants of Hari to Pandharpur.”
XXI.
“The Pandhari of the people is on the earth ;
But I have to go afar to Waikunth.
Whatever you do, you will not be able to find the way;
Therefore I make this loud announcement.
Behind me you will weep and raise lamentations;
Tukå will never more return,
So difficult is my way.
There is no royal road on my path.”
XXII.
“Tuká has passed the test,”
Wonder is felt in the three worlds.
Daily he utters praises ;
This is his only act of service.
Tuká has sat in a heavenly car;
The saints see it with their eyes.
God was hungry for faith ;
He has brought Tuká to Vaikunth.”
* Sir Alexander Grant points out that the idea is identical with that of
St. Paul : “I have fought the good fight; I have finished my course.”
AWOR THE HINDOO.S. 307
I have said that the truths contained in the ancient, as
well as, comparatively speaking, the more modern Writings,
and the traditions of which at least are still alive, form a
basis from which we can safely build, and I apprehend
that it is only the ignorance and the intolerance of man
that have hitherto prevented the attempt. Why should
we not enlighten the minds of men, and give an impetus
to directing thought in the right way? Why should we
abstain from advancing truth because it is in a different
form, and does not go as far as we could wish 2 Is not
half a loaf better than no bread? And why should not
the God of the old Hindoos—the God who is as much
theirs as ours—why should not this God be taught in
the village school, and through the medium of selections
from the best of the Hindoo books? It often happens
that a man will take from one hand what he will not
even look at when presented by another. We are told
in Mrs. Manning’s interesting work that during eight
long years Mr. L. Wilkinson tried to convince his friend,
Subhagi Bāpā, of the sun's relation to the earth. But
it was labour in vain. At last, from happening to meet
with the old Hindoo astronomical works, he was enabled
to show his friend that the Hindoos, centuries ago, had
arrived at similar truths. At once was conviction carried
to his mind, and Subhagi Băpă afterwards became a
distinguished professor and astronomer at the Govern-
ment College of Benares. And thus we see that truths,
long ago apparently lost for ever, have a tendency to
come to the surface, and, directly or indirectly, take
their place in pushing on the mental circulation of the
world. And it is of those religious truths which have
been smothered, not lost, that I would propose to take
advantage, with the view of turning the Hindoo mind to a
X 2
308 - A EZ/G/OAW.
purer and better faith. Now, these ideas of insinuating,
as it were, a purer religion into the minds of men
have occurred to many who dare not urge them, or who
do not, because they think that the fulness of time has
not yet come. But, timidly and tentatively, indications
of the coming opinions are cropping up, and before long
we shall find numbers declaring as plainly as I do
now, that it is our duty to at least attempt to supply our
Indian subjects with a religion of some sort, to replace
the numberless faiths we have shaken to pieces by our
knowledge and our civilisation. We shall find numbers
declaring that as the Indians will not have, and do not
want, any one of our interpretations of the Bible, it is
our imperative duty to see what can be done next; to
see, in short, if they will not allow us to teach them their
own ancient faith in as pure a form as it was originally
held by the most advanced of their forefathers. And in
teaching them to know and comprehend these ancient
religious opinions I would not, it must clearly be under-
stood, propose for one moment to inculcate the opinions
as a faith or as a religious system. I would not add or
allow to be added, one word of commentary, but I would
simply translate into every vernacular tongue, and in
language calculated to be best understood by the
simplest of the Indians, collections of sentiments such as
those delivered by Tukaram, and I would have these
translations taught in every village school, and circu-
lated as widely as possible. I would at least scatter
the seed, and I would scatter it as part and parcel of
education, in the sense of rousing and exercising the
faculties of the mind. For the great thing with these
people, as with every other, is to create an appetite and
to stimulate curiosity. And, as I have endeavoured to
As
REASONS FOR QUOTIWG TUKARAM. 309
show in another part of this book, this is only to be done
by rousing the attention to things which come home to
every man—to things which affect his comfort and
happiness, and more particularly concern himself. Of
these things it cannot be denied that religion, if not, in
fact, the greatest means, is at least one of the principal
means of creating an alteration in the habit of thought;
and if that means is neglected we shall, I maintain, fail
to do as much as we might and ought to do for these
people. The reader will now understand why I have
laid before him at such length these sentiments which
lived of old, but which were repeated with additional
force by the Maharatta poet. It is with the view of
asking him to put it to himself whether, because we
cannot teach the whole of our religion, we should not at
least commence with a part, and allow that to develop
in whatever direction it may.
To propose that this Christian nation should indirectly
teach a pure deism is a notion that may, perhaps, startle
a considerable section of society in this country; but if
the members of that section will only consider that
deism is the only path that can ever lead to Christianity,
I feel sure that the objections some might have to the
teaching I propose will soon vanish. In short, by
teaching deism at once, you would only be doing what
our missionaries have indirectly aided to bring about,
but without any of the evils they have created, and
with far greater rapidity, and at an infinitely cheaper
rate. Our missionaries may have imagined that they
were propagating real Christianity; but if they did so,
I am sure that they were, and are, under a real delusion.
They have helped merely to revive and develop that
school which, amongst the most advanced, has ever
31 o A EZ/G/OAV.
existed in India from the remotest times; they seem,
also, to have produced a large number of infidels;
and amongst the lowest classes they have obtained a
temporary allegiance to the name of Christ, which would
entirely fail to maintain itself were the missionaries to
be withdrawn from India. But I need not waste time
in pointing out any illustrations of the often-repeated
truism, namely, that there is no instance of a debased
population ever, when left to themselves, maintaining a
pure and simple Christianity. It will be more to the
point if we allude to the effect of these missionary enter-
prises, which have, for the most part, been confined to
the convenient humdrum of the school-room. Let us
glance for One moment at the effect of this school-room
Christianity.
And here it is not my intention to weary the reader
with evidences of a fact that is so well known : I mean
the fact that education, in the sense of that instruction
to be got in our missionary schools, has not aided in any
way the immediate propagation of Christianity. But the
following facts, which I take from Sir J. E. Tennent's
“Christianity in Ceylon,” and those which I give in a
note further on, will put the reader in possession of
a few facts which seem to show that the tendency of our
missionary education is to supply a large number of con-
ceited infidels, who are far worse to deal with than
pagans, and who, besides, by actively scoffing at all
religions, exercise a most pernicious influence on society.
Now, it seems to me that you cannot do a more
unsatisfactory piece of work than spend a great deal of
money in arriving at such a result; and even if you got
the result for nothing, it is very questionable whether
it would be worth having, notwithstanding the repeated
SCHOOL-FOOM CARISTIA/VIZ"P. 3 II
assertions that you have done a great deal when you have
dislodged a Hindoo from all belief in the religion of his
forefathers. But, however the last point may be decided,
it seems pretty plain that the result obtained, as shown
by facts in the note below, does not justify our mission-
aries in spending money on education; and if, in future,
they will persist in doing so, it seems only fair that they
should, at the same time, devote some time in their
schools to teaching their Hindoo lads, who will not turn
Christians, the best possible form of the old Vedic faith,
or, in other words, to teaching a pure deism; for, in
that case, the missionaries could at least console them-
selves that the boys at their schools would not be sent
into the world without any religion at all, which, as has
been shown, is the commonest result now arrived at.
But though, in the Government schools, we may one
day hope to see the introduction of deistical books, I am
afraid that it is hopeless to expect that our missionaries
will ever consent to the admission of what is good as far
as it goes, notwithstanding that they must see that, for
the present, it is a hopeless thing to attempt anything
better.
I have said that the missionary schools made but few
Christians.” Now, the fact was known long ago; the
* “The Rev. Howard Malcolm, of Boston, U.S., who, in 1836, made a tour
of the missions in Hindoostan and Burmah, in Siam, Malaya, and China, after
describing the extent to which education has been carried in their Christian
institutions, has thus summed up the inadequate success by which all its labours.
have been followed as regards conversion to Christianity:- The proportion of
conversions among this mighty host of scholars is certainly very small. It was
stated by the late Rev. Mr. Beichardt, of Calcutta, who laboured long in the
service of the Church Missionary Society, that of the many thousand boys
instructed by this society, only five or six had been converted. At Wepery, a
Suburb of Madras, where for a hundred years this species of labour had been
largely bestowed by the Christian Knowledge Society, the results are scarcely
more encouraging; nor at Tranquebar, where schools have been maintained for
a hundred and thirty years. In all Madras, where several thousands have been
constantly taught in missionary schools, there are not known to be half-a-dozen.
3 I 2 A&AE/L/G/OAV.
evidence given in my note from Sir Emerson Tennent's
book was written in 1836, and it is natural, therefore,
to inquire why the funds contributed in this country
should have been spent so largely in bringing about
such results. And here, in answering this question, I
am afraid I shall have to bell the cat. To bell any cat.
is not a pleasant task, but to bell the cat clerical is a
thing that I would, if possible, have gladly avoided.
However, as I am afraid that I shall have a number of
these missionary gentlemen and their supporters down
on me in any case, I may as well be hanged for a sheep
as a lamb, and I shall therefore devote a little space to
an endeavour to clear out this great missionary jungle
in India.
To commence, then, with answering the question
which naturally arises as to the reasons the missionaries
have for sticking to their cantonment schools, in spite of
converted natives. At the Anglo-Chinese College at Malacca, which has existed
for twenty years, only a few have been converted, though some twenty or thirty
have been brought over to Christianity. In Ceylon, where schools have been
conducted for twenty-six years, and generally with more attention to religion
than is common in India, few conversions occurred before 1830; and those since
that time have been rather the effect of protracted meetings and especial pastoral
effort than the school system. Out of the Scotch General Assembly's school in
Calcutta, which for six years has had an average of four hundred scholars and
the entire and constant attention of two missionaries, there have been but five or
six conversions. The Baptist Schools in Bengal, numbering thousands of Scholars,
for more than thirty years past have produced very few conversions. That
at Chittagong, taught by a missionary in person every day for sixteen years,
with an average of two hundred pupils, has witnessed but two of the scholars
brought to a knowledge of the truth. In Arracan no conversion has yet occurred
in the schools. Among all the Burmans I know of no Christian who is regarded
as the fruit of schools. Among the Karens many scholars have been converted;
but the primary and daily object of these schools has ever seemed to be the
conversion rather than the education of the Scholars. In places where schools
Have most abounded, and for the longest time, a considerable number of pupils have
zejected heathenism without embracing Christianity, and are now conceited inſidels,
worse to deal with than pagans. Many of them, by means of their education, have
obtained offices under Government, or in commercial houses, and exert a considerable
influence against religion.” — Sir J. E. Tennent’s “Christianity in Ceylon,”
pp. 277-8. -
ºf
MISSIONARP FOWDAVESS FOR TOWN SCHOOLS. 313
all the evidence we have for asserting that these schools
do not lead to conversions, I must inform the public in
this country that the sole reason is that the missionaries
naturally prefer snug quarters in a cantonment, within
reach of a doctor for themselves and their families, to
living in isolated situations amongst the simple popula-
tions in the rural districts, amongst whom the chances
of success would be infinitely greater than they are
amongst the people of the towns. Efforts, of course,
have been made to dislodge them from the towns; and
a friend of mine, a Scotch minister, told me that he once
formed one of a small minority which, in the General
Assembly, tried to move the missionaries from the towns
to the rural districts. But he told me that he and his
friends had not the slightest chance of success; and, I
confess, I should have thought it a very strange thing if
they had. To read about our missionaries in books and
to see them at home are very different things; and Iwell
recollect the comfortable bungalow, the snug drawing-
room, and all the appearance of a clergyman in easy
circumstances, which met my eye when, many years ago,
Some circumstance caused me to call on a Protestant
missionary in Bangalore. And when, added to all this,
there is English society to fall back on to while away
the evening hours, it is plain that powerful and strong
must be the arguments addressed to friends at home in
favour of mission-schools in the centres of civilisation.
One illustration of this unwillingness of our missionaries
to be without European society I may here mention.
The facts were communicated to me by an officer of the
Mysore Commission, and I can vouch for their accuracy.
A good many years ago two Protestant missionaries
arrived at the head-quarters of the division where my
3I4. RELAGIO/V.
friend was then stationed, and asked his advice as to
where it would be most advisable to set up a missionary
station. This gentleman at once indicated a small native
town, or rather large village, where there was a consider-
able weekly market, which was largely attended by the
neighbouring farmers. The missionaries accordingly
paid the place a visit, but they soon returned. My
friend, when he next saw them, asked them what recep-
tion they had met with, and was told that the people
were very civil, and even offered to build a school-house
if the missionaries would settle amongst them. “And
are you going to do so?” said my friend. “Well, no,”
was the reply; “there is no European society there.”
And accordingly they set up in the town at the head-
quarters of the division, which was a hotbed of
Brahmins and Mussulmans; but there was a small
English society, and, above all, a doctor. If no other
part of the missionary jungle requires clearing, I am
sure this does.” But “it’s a far cry to Lochow,” the
missionaries know that, and the people at home do not
care; and so the missionary car rumbles on in the same
old track, till one day it will be left sticking in the ruts,
like some of those idol-chariots which the slumbering
Hindoos have left, simply because the zeal which
formerly moved them has expired. -
There is another point, too, to which the attention of
the public here should be directed, and that consists in
the tendency that missionaries have to take themselves
to other and more lucrative callings. Within my own
knowledge one missionary has betaken himself to the
Government Educational Department; a second has
turned schoolmaster on the Neilgherry Hills; and a
* See Appendix F.
J. UXURIOUS MISSIO/WARIES. 3I 5
third has invaded my business, and, in short, turned
coffee-planter. Now, I have nothing to say against
these gentlemen for abandoning their original calling.
On the contrary, there is strong presumptive reasoning
in their favour, and we may charitably suppose that
they abandoned the cause of proselytising on account of
the miserable method pursued by those who have the
charge and direction of our Indian missions. But their
abandonment of their original profession for a more lucra-
tive one cannot but tend to create, or rather to increase,
the idea that the missionaries go to India for profit;
that they get as much as they can from their trade, and
desert it for another the moment a favourable oppor-
tunity occurs. Now, without offering any particular
opinion as to the motives of these men in going to
India, it is evident that their actions must sometimes
cause a smell, just as a fly causeth the oil of the apothe-
cary to stink; and I therefore think that every missionary
should, for the future, sign an agreement either to retire
from India on quitting his mission, or else to abstain.
from other callings in the country itself.
A third point requiring attention is the luxurious
style in which the missionaries live. I do not, of
course, mean that they live in a positively luxurious
style, taking them to be people pursuing secular callings,
but, regarding them as missionaries, their way of living
is calculated to produce an effect in the native mind the
reverse of what is advisable; and, in short, it is difficult
to get the natives to imagine that there is anything par-
ticularly sacred in the missionary character, when pre-
sented to them in the form of a man who seems to live as
comfortably as his neighbours. Not long ago I read in
“Mission Life” that a missionary somewhere in the south
316 - RELIGION.
of India went about the country with a pony and groom,
and actually with a cook. Now, it is alleged that all these
comforts are really necessaries of life to a European, and
our missionaries assert that they could not exist in India
without what would be called comforts, and even luxu-
ries, in other countries. But this is an entire delusion,
and, as an instance to show that it is so, I may mention
that I Once made the acquaintance of a Jesuit priest who
was in perfect health. He, of course, had no cook, and
his sole servant was his horsekeeper, who boiled the
missionary’s simple fare; and in going about the country
these men live on the food of the country, and, in short,
just as the natives do. The salary of this gentleman
was, to the best of my recollection, exactly £26 a year,
or a sum equal to the pay of the servants employed by
one of our missionaries.
Another point deserving of notice is a duty that many
missionaries think they must perform, and which they
call rebuking idolatry. To people in this country who
have not much imagination, or do not trouble them-
selves to reflect, this may seem a very proper thing
to do. But let us suppose that a Chinese missionary
had arrived in this country, that he went into the
villages” and told the people that Christianity was a
snare and a delusion, and was the certain path to per-
dition, and that they should desist from worshipping
false gods, and come over to the religion of Buddha : he
would probably be looked upon as an impudent lunatic,
be pelted by the boys, and possibly carried to the parish
pump. And we may safely assert that, three hundred
years ago, his fate under similar circumstances would
* The practice of what is called bazaar-preaching has already been discovered
to be a mistake by at least one of our best missionaries.
AEBUKING IDOLATRP. 317
have been either hanging or drowning. And yet our
missionaries in India do much the same thing, and are,
I dare say, not a little surprised that they do not wind
their way into the affections of the people. When I
lived in Mysore I used to take in a missionary journal
called the Harvest Field, and I there read certainly one
of the most original and tasteful ways of rebuking
idolatry I ever heard of. One of the missionaries, in
giving an account of what he had been doing of late,
said that in passing by the village temple he saw a priest
engaged in Washing the idol, and thinking this a fitting
occasion to rebuke idolatry, he said, “Well, yours must
be a dirty god to require so much washing.”
If the conclusion I have come to as regards the action
of our missionaries be well founded, it seems pretty
clear that these gentlemen, by devoting so much of their
time to education ; by living in comfort in the centres of
civilisation; by creating an impression, from their way
of living, the reverse of what is desirable to establish;
and by their system of rebuking idolatry, have succeeded
in producing a very unfavourable return for the sums
of money intrusted to their charge. And when we
take into consideration, further, the pernicious effects
they have produced, and the injury they have inflicted
on the cause of Christianity by presenting it to the
natives” as something that must necessarily tear the
whole framework of Society to pieces, and interfere with
all their social customs, it is plain that a deep and wide-
spread reformation of missionary enterprise is urgently
needed if people expect to introduce our religion in
India. And, in attempting to produce this necessary
reform, the first thing to be done, I would venture to
* See chapter on Caste.
3.18 A&E/LIGION.
suggest, is to sink dogmas and live Christianity. From
my intimate experience of these people I feel firmly
persuaded that going about on missionary tours, and
preaching whenever a few natives can be collected
together, is not of the slightest value. A missionary,
to be really effective, should locate himself in a part of
the country remote from a large town, but where there
is a fair population, and he should settle down amongst
the people, and cast in his lot with them, putting up at
their houses, eating of the family fare, and sleeping on
a mat in the verandahs that are commonly to be found
in the houses of the more respectable farmers. He
should attend to the sick, comfort the afflicted, and spend
morning, noon, and night amongst the people, and
present himself to them as a man who, forsaking the
luxuries and comforts of European life, has resolved to
spend his whole time in doing good. And, while acting
in this way, he should carefully abstain from offering
any opinions on religious matters at all until he is
asked for them. Instead of carrying religious dogmas
from house to house, and endeavouring to cram them
down every man's throat, he should present such an
example of excellence as would induce the natives to
ask, as assuredly they would do in time, what that
religious system could be which was capable of pro-
ducing men of such exalted self-denial and virtue;
and when these questions came, the missionary should
then gradually unfold the faith he depended on; he
should scatter the seed, and scatter it patiently, remem-
bering that “the husbandman waiteth for the precious
fruit of the earth, being patient over it till it shall have
received the early and latter rain.” Missionary work
carried on after this fashion would, I feel well assured,
SOME SUGGEST/OWS /W CONCLUSIO/V. 3 I 9
be of incalculable benefit to the Indians, and would yield
in good time an ample return. But, carried on as it is
at present, I feel well assured, as I have repeatedly urged,
that little good will ever be done to the cause of Chris-
tianity, and that the evils that have ensued from our
misguided efforts have done, and are at this moment
doing, an amount of harm to the cause of Christianity
in Asia which it is impossible to exaggerate.
NoTE.—The advisability of living Christianity first of
all, and detailing its doctrines afterwards, may not, to
the general reader, seem so important as I believe it to
be. But whatever may be the case with people who
have been bred up in the belief of Christian doctrines, it
is plain that when you commence to state them to an
acute Hindoo a host of difficulties arise. And, as if
there were not sufficient difficulties to be found in the
case of the Trinity and of the Virgin Mary, our mis-
sionaries seem to be at considerable pains to manufacture
fresh ones; and it is quite sufficient to cover any religion
with ridicule when you come to preach the resurrection
of our earthly and frequently uninhabitable lodgings. I
recollect reading of a case in the Harvest Field, previously
alluded to, where a missionary fell into conversation
with a Mussulman on this subject. “What l” said the
Mussulman, “do you mean to tell me that this very
body of mine is really to rise again from the dead?”
Presently the conversation turned on other religious
points, and subsequently the missionary observed that
this would be a good opportunity for embracing Chris-
32O A&ELIGIO/W.
tianity. “It may be so,” was the answer, “but I’ll see
about that when I rise from the dead.”
The reader, I may observe, will understand better
what the Bible says on this subject if he reads, according
to Wiclif's translation, “It is sowen a beestli bodi; it
shal rise a spiritual bodi,” instead of our version of,
“It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual
body.” The term “animal body,” as Dean Trench points
out, should have been used instead of “natural body.”
APPENDIX TO WOL. I.
-—º-
A.—Page 202.
I have since received the Administration Report for Coorg for
1869-70, and with reference to the Registration Act, which was
extended to that province in the same year that the act was intro-
duced in Mysore (Coorg, though British, is governed by the Com-
missioner of Mysore), it is stated that “the bulk of the people must
still be ignorant of the purposes or advantages of registration,” and
that, “On the whole, registration seems to have made but slow pro-
gress among the Coorgs.” This act was introduced in 1866.
A*.—Page 206.
Mr. Bowring's industry, energy, and ability are far too well known
to require any remark from me ; but the observations I have made
on his administration of Mysore might perhaps lead the English
reader to suppose that I meant to convey some sort of reflection on
his policy, and I therefore think it necessary to add that when I
condemn the system he introduced, I am merely offering remarks
that may be extended to the whole of British India. Mr. Bowring
was, it must be remembered, merely a minister, and to attack him
would be very like attacking Mr. Cardwell's administration of the
army. As Lord Russell said in his letter to the Times, “It is very
unfair to blame Mr. Cardwell: he was told to retrench, and he has
retrenched.” In the same way Mr. Bowring was told to introduce
a system, and he did introduce a system.
B.—Page 209.
A FEW FACTS AS REGARDS INDIAN Government.
I.
The masses in India do not care a straw who governs them as long
as they are let alone.
That letting them alone financially is the thing they care most
WOL. I. Y
322 APPEAWD/X.
about ; and what worries them more than anything else is the im-
position of new taxes.
This is partly owing to an ill-founded objection to new taxes,
because they are new, but mainly to a well-founded belief in the fact
that every additional kind of tax involves an additional communica-
tion with an agent of Government, and that every such additional
point of contact will be used as a means of extortion and oppression
by the petty native officials.
It is impossible to prevent extortion on the part of the minor
officials, and this is an ultimate fact which can never, in our time at
least, be altered.
These propositions being assumed, it follows that the Govern-
ment might raise a million sterling by increasing an old tax with far
less unpopularity, and far more cheaply, than it could raise a tenth
part of that sum by the imposition of a new tax.
The imposition of new direct taxes of any sort, as the income-tax
or local cesses, causes a disturbance in the native mind, and an un-
easiness as to what is to come next, which is sure to develop into a
chronic state of mistrust, and general discontent with our rule.”
II.
India is a poor country, and can only be made permanently and
securely rich by irrigation.
With irrigation everything is possible; without it everything must
continue to be precarious.
With irrigation, life may be rendered as safe as it possibly can be ;
owing to the absence of it, lives have been sacrificed by the million,
and may any day have to be sacrificed again.t
* It is, of course, impossible to prove it ; but I cannot help suspecting that,
quite unconsciously, a fair share of extortion and oppression emanates from our
English officials. And I think we may infer deductively that such must be the
case, as, whenever the Government is in a strait, the old cry of “Govern
leniently, but get more money,” is sure to be carried into effect. An educated
native official (now retired), who eventually rose to be deputy collector, told me
that, with reference to the income-tax, he was instructed by his superiors to get
in as much as he could. Finding that he could not show as good a return as his
neighbours, he simply issued orders to surcharge every one, and in that way
contrived to rival his competitors in extortion. People here would be inclined
to censure the conduct of the native in question. I do not. They would also be
inclined to ask why complaints were not lodged against the official in question;
put those who would be inclined to ask this know little of what goes on in India.
+ John Bull, I am sure, has no idea of the loss caused him by Indian famines,
or he would have roused himself up long ago, and bestowed on irrigation at
least a portion of that stimulus which he has so freely expended on railways.
Not to go further back than 1861, I may mention that in that year there was a
direct loss of two hundred and fifty thousand lives in the North-west Provinces,
AAEAEENDIX. 323
The sacrifice of life means the sacrifice of revenue.
The true base of life and prosperity, therefore, is water.
III.
India being a poor country, the first, and the second, and the third
point to be kept steadily in view is to keep down the expenses of the
administration. -
This cannot be done unless we are content to go without the costly
refinements of European administration.
To a neglect of this fact, and to the neglect of irrigation, are to be
traced the whole of our present financial difficulties, and a great deal
of the unpopularity of our rule in India.
IV.
Our position in India is exactly like that of a man who has enor-
mously over-estimated the resources of his estate, and who, not
liking to retrench, is grasping wildly at all manner of straws with the
view of keeping his head above water.
The straws that Government is grasping at in India are more rail-
ways, and more departments (as agricultural and cotton departments)
for developing the resources of the country.
The whole of this straw-grasping will break down ; a general in-
crease of the land-tax must inevitably follow. The masses—or, in
and Colonel Baird Smith estimated the losses arising therefrom at four and a half
millions sterling. In 1866 we had the Orissa famine, with a loss of seven hun-
dred and fifty thousand lives, and a famine in the Madras territory to the extent
of two hundred thousand. The Rajpootana famine of 1868-69 has been com-
puted at one million. These losses, amounting in all to two million two
hundred thousand deaths from direct starvation, must have caused an enormous
money loss to India, and I leave the public here to calculate how much these
people would have spent in cotton stuffs had they not thus been cleared off the
face of the earth. -
We are always boasting of the superior safety of life under our rule in
India, but the fact is that our rule has made life more insecure than ever it was
before. We have saved a few people from the Thugs and from Dacoits in general,
but we have, by our culpable neglect, slaughtered millions as effectually, and far
more miserably than if we had ordered them to be put to the sword outright.
In this way we have got rid of nearly two millions and a quarter in ten years,
and if we have seasons equally dry (and no one can tell that we may not have
seasons even worse), we may, no doubt, succeed, by 1881, in making up the number
to about four millions and a half. It is probable, however, that this number
will be exceeded, as, from the facilities given by the opening up of roads, many
countries in which a famine would have been well-nigh impossible are now in
considerable danger. Mysore is one of these. Twenty years ago a famine could
hardly have occurred there. Now a famine may occur any year, from values
being hoarded in cash instead of being hoarded in grain, as they used to be.
(Wide pp. 79, 80.) If we could only make John Bull see that famines do not pay !
3.24. APPEAWDIX.
other Words, the agricultural classes—will be impoverished in order
that multitudinous officials may fatten, and the general progress of
the country will be indefinitely retarded.
V.
For purposes of comparison, the student of Indian affairs need not
go farther than the single province of Mysore, with its four millions
of inhabitants. This state is quite large enough for this purpose, and
its transference from one sort of government to another within very
recent times enables us to show most conclusively the fatal tendencies
of our system of administration. What these tendencies are has
been shown, and if these tendencies are correctly stated, it follows
that those who govern India are not statesmen; that they have failed
to grasp the leading points of the situation; and that they are, in a
Word, merely short-sighted departmentalists.
VI.
The Government shows signs of distress. It is at last beginning
to discover that it would have been better to have gnawed patiently
the bone that has fallen to its lot, instead of trying suddenly to force
the country into prosperity by profuse expenditure. It has just
awakened to the fact that there is a “wolf behind, a precipice in
front.” Under these trying circumstances it is interesting to observe
the movements of the unwieldy machine. Some wonderful effect is
to be produced by decentralising the finances, by levying local cesses,
and by a profuse outpouring of departmental oil.” All this, I dare
say, will impose on that most gullible of animals, the British public ;
but it will never, remember, make a rich country out of a poor one—
it will never turn a country with wages at two shillings a week into
one with wages at two shillings a day.
VII.
It is, of course, ridiculous to expect people in this country to take a
permanent interest in India while there are so many interests at
* The last outpouring of this oil is the appointment of Dr. Day to look after
Indian fishes in general. This is no doubt a good move, but the thin end of the
wedge once in, and it is merely a question of time as to when we shall have a Fish
Department. This will just add another stone to the cairn. The fact is that, in
a poor country like India, every civilian should look after his own fish. But the
most serious danger of this increase of departments lies in the fact that each
department is sure in the end to acquire a certain amount of independent action.
Now, the head of a special department can see his department's interests very
clearly, but he can see nothing else, and it must therefore surely happen that
measures right, perhaps, in the abstract, but hostile nevertheless to our rule, will
be carried out. As an instance of this see note, page 221.
AAEAEAEAV/D/X. g 325
home, and nearer home, to absorb the public attention. An occasional
effort, however, may reasonably be expected just to keep the vessel
off the rocks; and if ever there was a time when such an effort was
needed, it is at the present moment. To attempt to arouse this
sordid nation to even an occasional sense of its duties—to hope for
one moment to obtain a hearing for the peoples of India as the
peoples of India, is, of course, not to be thought of. I do not appeal
to any sense of honour or of duty, or to any of those principles which,
I believe, once animated the people of England; but I appeal to that
sense of the almighty dollar which is now the predominant, and,
I fear, the extinguishing passion in this country. Nor do I think
that I shall appeal in vain when I tell the English people here that
cotton, and selling markets, and railway shares, and shipping, and a
host of moneyed interests besides, depend upon our pursuing an ad-
ministrative policy exactly the reverse of what we are now carrying
out in India.
VIII.
What, let me ask in conclusion, is the natural sequence of progress
in governing the peoples of India 2 We all know that the best system
of government is that where the people hold the direction of their
affairs. In India not only can this model never be reached for many
generations, but there is absolutely no means whatever by which
the people can make their wishes known to Government; nor have
they even a press which is informed as to how carefully, or rather
how carelessly, their revenues are spent. The English press is just
as much without sources of information as the Government itself,
and its reach hardly extends beyond the bounds of the Presidency
towns. Under these desponding circumstances we are driven to ask
what is to be done, and what is the best available method of getting
the people represented, and their true interests attended to. And
here we are forced to the conclusion that, in the inapplicability
of all true principles of government, the only person who can pos-
sibly approach to a representative of the people is the revenue
collector. The interests of the people lie in the economical develop-
ment of the resources of the country, and his objects are exactly
identical with these interests. In India the revenue administrator
should be king over all things, Small and great, within the section of
country committed to his charge—over roads, over education, over
irrigation works, over forests, over every subject connected with the
material progress of the people. When this base is in any way
departed from, it should be modified, not by splitting up this central
authority into those disjointed fragments which are called departments,
but by surrounding the central authority by a council selected from
the leading natives in the country. To jump from a paternal govern-
326 APPENDIX.
ment to a departmental one, without any representation of the people,
is an absurdity. Departments ought only to exist where they can be
kept under control by the representatives of the people. The proper
Sequence of Indian government may be summed up as follows:–
1. In the first instance the government should be paternal,” and
entirely under the control of the revenue authorities, or, in other
Words, the administrators of the lands of the people.
2. The next step should be to surround this central authority with
a council as representative of the people.
8. When, in the course of time, the representative principle has
become sufficiently strong and intelligent to exercise a regular influ-
ence on the conduct of affairs, then departments should be started
with powers more or less independent.
What, lastly, let us ask, is the tendency of our method of governing
on the character of the people 2 Well, in a word, the whole tendency
is to make the people daily more dependent, daily more incapable of
looking after or thinking for themselves. In former times they did all
their own law through the simple agency of punchayets; they collected
their own taxes; they turned out en masse to execute their own irri-
gation works. Now they are exactly like children who expect the
Government to do everything. Is not the history of the French
before us 2 They have had everything done for them, and look at
the result. Years ago, when an idol chariot stuck fast at a feast I
was present at, one of the natives said to me quite seriously, “Why
doesn't the Sircar (Government) cause the chariot to be pulled ?”
Thirty years ago that never could have been said. And yet we say
that the people have progressed !
C.—Page 255.
I have procured from Germany a pamphlet entitled “The Position
of the Leipsic Missionary Society on the Caste Question, 1861,”
which should be consulted by any one desirous of examining the
* Mysore, up to the introduction of that Public Works Department which Sir
• Mark Cubbon vainly strove against, was an instance of a model Indian Govern-
ment under central authorities rising one above another, each authority being
complete within itself. That base has been split asunder, and look at the result.
There was good hope at one time that Mysore might have been allowed to pro-
gress in the natural sequence I have described as being the proper one for India,
and that it might have always continued to exhibit a model of Indian govern-
ment. But the introduction of the first department was the beginning of the
end, and the province has been practically swept into the imperial gutters. This
may seem a strong term, but in reality it is not half strong enough. In fact, to
my mind, the history of our rule in India for the last ten years has been one
vast gutter filled with the blood of millions slaughtered by famine, by tumble-
down barracks, by money misapplied from one end of the country to the other.
AAPPEAVO IX. 327
question thoroughly. The opinion of the society is entirely in favour
of compromise.
E.—Page 291.
The whole of the facts and quotations regarding the Hindoo reli-
gion are taken from Mrs. Manning's valuable work, “Ancient and
Mediaeval India.” -
F.—Page 314.
From information subsequently received, I am led to believe that
in the northern parts of India, where railways have afforded greater
facilities for missionary inspectors, the missionaries do not stick
quite so much to the stations as they do in the south. The
case in all the southern parts of India is really very bad, and
I am informed, by an officer in the Royal Engineers, that to his
certain knowledge the missionary societies have bought several
houses in Belgaum within recent years. Here the climate is good,
and there seems to be a regular colony of missionaries, who can
hardly be got into the districts at all, and who remain quietly adding
to the white population of the station. For every child they succeed
in producing, they obtain an increase of salary, instead of having
their pay reduced, as one would naturally expect; for it is evident
that “charity will hardly water the ground if it has first of all to fill a
pool,” and that the more children a man has, the more incompetent
he naturally becomes. The fact is that the missionaries should never
marry, or, if they do, their pay should be regularly reduced with
every child above the number of, say, two or three. Another thing
is that, as my engineer informant very justly observed, “a mis-
sionary should never show himself inside a station at all.”
END OF WOL. I.
PRINTED BY WIRTUE AND CO., CITY ROAD, LONDON.
THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHEGAN
GRADUATE LIBRARY
DATE DUE
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