Isvar Chandra Vidyasagar, a story of his life and work/Chapter 28

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Loss of Mother.

In the month of August, 1870, Vidyasagar's mother set out on pilgrimage. First of all, she went to the holy shrine of Benares to see her husband. After a short stay there, she again proceeded on her journey, and after travelling in the different shrines of India, she again came back to Benares. She requested her husband to accompany her to Birsingha. But he declined, and pressed her to live with him in Benares. The benevolent matron replied;—'Let us go home now; you have still some years to live. My poor neighbours will miss me very keenly. My first duty is to succour the distrest and feed the hungry. I must go to do that now. But know this for certain, that wherever I may remain, I will come here in time, and die before you.' The prediction of this honest, faithful woman was fulfilled to the letter. It is generally found that honest, virtuous, and religious persons foresee the dissolation of their life in distant future and sometimes predict the exact day and hour of their death. We do not see how they are enabled to do so, but nevertheless it is a fact and quite inexplicable. How inscrutable are the ways of Providence!

Vidyasagar's mother left her husband to live in Benares, she herself returning to Birsingha. In February following (1871), information reached Vidyasagar that his father was seriously ill at the sanctum. He at once proceeded to Benares, and was soon joined by his mother and his second and third brothers. In a few days, Thakurdas recovered from his illness. Vidyasagar returned to Calcutta, leaving his mother and brothers to look after his father. Bhagavati Devi lived with her husband for two months, and on the last day of the Bengali year (which is a sacred day with the Hindus), she was seized with Cholera, and expired in a few hours at the feet of her husband, as she had predicted. Before her death, she had begged for the blessings of her husband, whereupon Thakurdas said:—’How shall I bless you? You are a most pious woman; it is your own piety that takes you away before me: yours is the victory.' It is needless to say, that he was deeply grieved at the loss of such a virtuous wife.

On his return from Benares, Vidyasagar had taken his lodgings in a rented house by the riverside at Kasipore, a little north to Calcutta, when the sad intelligence reached him. The news came upon him like a thunder-bolt. How shall we describe the intensity of his grief? Words are too inadequate to express the sufferings of his heart. He was quite disconsolate, and wept bitterly like a child. The reader is aware how devotedly attached he was to his mother. Alas! that mother, to obey whose word he had encountered the perils of a long pedestrian journey amidst thunder-storms and rains, and had plunged into the impassable stream of the terrific Damodar, was no more! Oh! the pangs of his heart—the more so, as he had not been able to attend to her death-bed and to have a last look of her face!

He performed the Sraddha ceremonials on the shores of the Bhagirathi at Kasipore; after which he led a secluded life for several months together, during which time his main business was to shed incessant tears at his dear mother's memory. He observed the mourning rites in accordance with the tenets of the Sastras for one complete year. These twelve months he led the rigidly ascetic life of a true Hindu; he gave up fish and meat; he ate only one meal a day, and that composed of only rice and vegetables and cooked with his own hands, permitting nobody to help him in preparing the food save his wife, Dinamayi Devi, and that very rarely, only on occasions of his illness, when he was too weak to do the cooking himself; he gave up wearing shoes; he did not use umbrella; he slept on a rug on the floor; in short, he renounced all luxuries and comforts of life. He did not visit Benares, the scene of her last days, for two years after the mournful incident.

In November 1873, Thakurdas was again ill. No sooner did the news reach Vidyasagar, than he hurried to Benares. He nursed his father most tenderly, who recovered in a fortnight. Every morning he walked about the holy city with a purseful of silver coins of all values, which he gave away in alms to the poor and the needy. He had a great aversion for the Bengali Brahmans of Benares; but he had a very high opinion of the Mahratta Brahmans, whom he treated with much respect. He even washed their feet with his own hands. Whenever he had an occasion for feeding Brahmans, it was the Brahmans of Mahratta whom he entertained most sumptuously. He never feasted those of his own country. His main duty in Benares was to do the marketing and cooking for his father with his own hands, and to eat the Prasad (the remains of a meal) left by his parent. The reader is aware that in his early years want made him do all the cooking himself. He had thus acquired a great proficiency in the art of preparing food. Not only did he cook his father's meal, but he took a great delight in feeding people with food of his own cooking. This self-imposed task was very agreeable to him.

During this sojourn at the sacred place of the Hindus, a gentleman one day called at Thakurdas's lodgings. Both the father and the son were present then. Vidyasagar thought that the newcomer was his father's acquaintance, while Thakurdas thought that the visitor must be known to his son. In the meantime, a piece of business called Vidyasagar away. When he returned to the lodgings, he found that the visitor had departed. He then enquired of his father about the man's personality. Thakurdas said,—'I don't know him. I believed that he was known to you. and that you would come back and talk to him. I myself was too deeply engaged on an important matter to attend to him.' Everything was now clear to Vidyasagar, and he was deeply sorry for what had passed. He at once set out in the direction of Bangalitola (that quarter of Benares where the Bengalis reside) to find out the unknown visitor. After a diligent search of some time, he at last discovered the man. He apologised to the stranger for the apparent slight shown to him; the man was satisfied. Vidyasagar then asked him why he had called. The stranger replied,—'I heard that you were come, and therefore called to see you. Besides, I wanted to ask you a question about religion.' Vidyasagar desired him to put his question. The gentleman wanted to know our hero's religious faith. Vidyasagar replied,—'I have never declared to anybody my faith, nor will I ever declare it; but this much I can say, that if you believe that the bath in the Bhagirathi purifies you and the worship of Siva brings sanctity to your heart, there is your religion.' With this, he returned to his own quarters.

On a previous occasion, while his mother was still living, the Brahmans of Benares asked him whether he believed in Visvesvara (the god Siva of Benares). Vidyasagar replied,—'I have no faith in your Visvesvara.' The Brahmans were highly offended at such a reply from a Hindu, and asked him,—'What do you believe in then?' Vidyasagar answered,—'My Visvesvara and Annapurna (another name of goddess Durga, Siva's wife) are my father and mother, present here in flesh.' Here was some indication of his religious faith. It might not be much amiss to infer, that his feeding of Brahmans was for the satisfaction of his parents, who were his sole objects of worship.

The Hindu Wills Act was passed on the 1st September, 1870. The Draft Bill had been introduced into the Legislative Council in the previous year. The purposes of this Law had hitherto been served by the Indian Succession Act, which operated equally on the Indians and non-Indians. Previously, since the establishment of the Supreme Court, the wealthy residents of Calcutta used to leave their testamentary Wills at their own option, which gave rise to serious litigations, consequent on frauds with respect to the deeds. Thus arose the necessity for a fresh legislation to prevent these evil practices. The Bill, introduced in 1869, was framed by the alteration of some of the sections of the Indian Succession Act. The movement caused a great agitation throughout the country.

The Government asked for the opinions of all the influential, leading members of Society and some of the Sastric Pandits. Vidyasagar was also called upon to give his opinion. He bestowed his best thoughts on the subject, and opposed two points: first, according to the Hindu Sastras, the gift of something to an unborn person is unlawful—both the donor and the donee of a gift must be cognisant of it; but in this Act, such gifts have been considered lawful in certain cases: secondly, what has been termed as Rules against Perpetuity is also opposed to the Hindu Sastras. Vidyasagar's arguments were founded on sound bases. But the Government paid no heed to them, and the Bill was passed into a law applicable to the Hindus, including Buddhists and Jains.

In the course of this year, Vidyasagar had to encounter another serious calamity in the death of Maharaja Satis Chandra Ray Bahadur of Nuddea, who breathed his last on the 25th day of October, 1870. Vidyasagar was intimately connected with the Nuddea Raj family. He had a friendly intercourse with Satis Chandra's father, Maharaja Sris Chandra. The acquaintance first began when Vidyasagar had gone to the Nuddea palace for the manuscript of Bharat Chandra's works, and it gradually grew into familiar friendship in the course of his subsequent visits to Krishnaghar for inspection of schools, while he was an Inspector of Schools. Sris Chandra had such a high regard for him on account of his vast erudition and noble conduct, that whenever Vidyasagar called on him, he rose from his throne, and clasped the poorly dressed visitor in his arms. In fact, he was so enamoured of our hero, that he supported his widow marriage movement and even subscribed his own name to the petition submitted to Government for legislation on the subject. We have already noticed briefly, in the chapter on Widow Marriage, how one of his ancestors, Maharaja Krishna Chandra, had baffled the attempts of Raja Rajaballabh of Dacca to introduce widow marriage into Hindu Society. But the descendant of the same Krishna Chandra felt no compunction in advocating the uncanonical renovation and lending his aid to the furtherance of the cause, though highly injurious to society and repugnant to orthodox Hindu feelings—he was so charmed and led away by Vidyasagar's arguments and by his own Western education. Sris Chandra died on the very day that the first widow marriage of his namesake under the new Law was celebrated with eclat in Calcutta.

His son, Satis Chandra, looked upon Vidyasagar with the same regard and esteem as his father. The reader is aware how our noble hero made over to him 1800 rupees deposited by his father in Vidyasagar's care. Even after Satis Chandra's death, Vidyasagar often visited Krishnaghar to provide for the proper management of the Nuddea Raj Estate at great personal sacrifice. It was quite natural for our grateful hero to suffer losses for the good of a benefactor's descendants and heirs, from whom he had himself received so much benefit.

With respect to Vidyasagar's grateful benevolence and kindness to the near relations of a deceased friend and benefactor, Jogendra Nath Bandyopadhyay, mentioned before, has tried to condemn the conduct of our hero in connection with the family of his father-in-law Madan Mohan Tarkalankar. We would ask the reader to recall the circumstances under which our hero acquired the sole right of the Sanskrit Press and the copy-right of the three parts of Madan Mohan's Sisu-Siksha. On the death of Tarkalankar, when his family were miserably circumstanced, Vidyasagar very kindly settled on the deceased friend's mother, wife and widowed daughters a monthly allowance of ten rupees each. But that stipend was not sufficient for their comfortable living. Madan Mohan's son-in-law, Jogendra Nath aforesaid, therefore begged Vidyasagar for the copy-right of the three parts of Sisu-Siksha in the name of Kunda Mala, Tarkalankar's second widowed daughter. Vidyasagar accepted the proposal and consented to make her a present of the copy-right. But subsequently he was so offended at somebody's behaviour, that he was constrained to withdraw his promise. Surely, this unusual conduct on the part of the truthful Vidyasagar is by no means to be justified, and has brought down some discredit on his unsoiled Character. However offensive other people's behaviour might have been, or under any circumstances, however displeasing, Vidyasagar ought not to have retracted his word of gift, once pledged by him.

To resume the thread of our narrative. Maharaja Satis Chandra had married two wives. He had left a Will. One of the provisions of the testament was that if neither of his wives had any male issue, then on his demise, the younger widowed Maharani should take an adopted son, and that if she did not take to that course, the elder Maharani should adopt a son. The elder one had already died in the life-time of Satis Chandra. On his demise, the younger Maharani, Bhuvanesvari, expressed a wish to keep the Estate in her own hands. The Raj-Dewan, Kartik Chandra Ray, saw that the Estate was already in an embarrassed state, and that if the Maharani should keep it in her own hands, it would grow more deplorable still. He, therefore, called on Vidyasagar, and consulted him on the point. The latter decided upon placing the Estate in the hands of the Court of Wards. Kartik Chandra thereupon requested him to persuade the Maharani to take that course. Vidyasagar did as he was desired. He went to Krishnaghar and waited upon Bhuvanesvari. After much persuasion, he succeeded in convincing her of the advisability of the step. The Estate was accordingly made over to the Court of Wards on the 6th January, 1871. It soon prospered under the able management of the Court; all its former debts were cleared off. The present Maharaja Kshitis Chandra Ray Bahadur, when he attained his majority and took over charge of the Estate in his own hands, received from the Court of Wards, a sum of two lakhs and ten thousand rupees in ready money. Kshitis Chandra had been placed in the Wards' Institution, where he received his training.

In 1871, Vidyasagar published new editions of the Sanskrit "Uttara-Charita" and "Abhijnana-Sakuntala" with his annotations. The two prefaces of these publications are very good pieces of Bengali prose reading, displaying his powers of the same sweet, serious language, the same melodious flow of elegant style, as in his former works, and discussing concisely, in a short compass, the high talents and abilities of the two immortal poets, Bhavabhuti and Kalidas.

Besides these two publications, he issued correct editions of the Sanskrit "Sisupala-Badha" "Kadambari," "Kiratarjjuniya," "Raghu-Vansa," and "Harsha-Charita," without annotations. He also published, for the students of the lower forms, three Selection-books from standard English authors, namely, "Selections from the writings of Goldsmith," "Selections from English Literature'" and "Poetical Selections."

We have already shown that Vidyasagar was a great appreciator of merits. His heart was always drawn to a spirited, amiable, kind, truthful and honest man, be he a Hindu, Brahma, Christian, or Mussulman—be he a native of his father-land or of a foreign country. Whatever might be his course, if Vidyasagar believed that he was working sincerely for the good of his country, he would clasp him in his fond embraces. Keshub Chunder Sen, the famous orator of Bengal, was a great favourite with him, although the opinions of the two widely diverged on many points, simply because Vidyasagar believed that the orator wished well of the country. Keshub Chunder also had a great fond regard for him. The two often met in Vidyasagar's house, and whenever they were together, they had no other talk than the device of means for the good of the country.

Raj Narayan Basu, though a Brahma, had, by his honesty and truthfulness, won over Vidyasagar's intimate friendship. The two reciprocated feelings of affectionate esteem for each other. Raj Narayan believed that if Vidyasagar had turned a missionary and preacher, he could have done a great good to the people. He even went so far as to declare his idea to Vidyasagar. The latter gave a somewhat humorous reply. He said, -'I don't want to be a preacher. If I have to suffer punishment for what I am and what I have been doing, I must take the consequences. Suppose, I turn a missionary and convert some people to my faith. If they should be asked who converted them, they must point to me, and supposing that they are punishable for their acts, it is I on whose back the punishment is sure to fall. I can suffer for my own sins; but how can I receive stripes for others?'

Raj Narayan consulted Vidyasagar on all important matters. He once asked for his friend's advice on the subject of his daughter's marriage. Vidyasagar conveyed his instructions by a long letter couched in respectful terms. The letter was written in Bengali; we will give here its purport in English:—

'Accept my best compliments—

'It is some days that your letter reached, me; but I was very busy with different matters, and could not therefore reply to your letter in time. Please excuse me the delay.

'I have bestowed my best thoughts on the subject of your daughter's marriage, but have failed to decide upon the advice that I am to give you. To speak the truth, it is very difficult to advise on these matters. In the first place, you are a Brahma. As you are a strict follower of that faith, you should by all means pursue the course adopted by Babu Devendra Nath Tagore on the occasion of his daughter's marriage, if you think, that course was in consonance with the Brahma religion. In the second place, if you do not pursue the course adopted by Devendra Babu, and celebrate the marriage of your daughter in accordance with the old practice, there will arise a great obstacle to the propagation of Brahma marriage. In the third place, it is most doubtful whether the celebration of your daughter's marriage according to the Brahma practice should be considered valid on all points. For these reasons I am unable and unwilling to lend you any advice on this point. But this much I can say, that you should not jump at once into any side.

'What I really mean to say on this subject is, that it is not proper to ask for other people's advice in these matters. In such cases one ought to ask one's own heart for instructions, and act up to its dictates. For whomever you will consult on this point, will deliver his counsels according to his own opinions and wishes; he will never consult your good or duty.

'In my opinion, you would do well to think over the matter seriously, and then determine for yourself which course to pursue.

'I am somewhat better. Dated 3rd Asvin.

Yours

Sd. 'Isvar Chandra Sarma.'
The reader is, no doubt, familiar with the name of the saintly Ram Krishna Paramahansa, whose purity of manners, honesty of purpose, and pious conduct had drawn to him many disciples. He was fond of the company of pious and honest persons. One day he said to his disciples that he wanted to have an interview with the famous Vidyasagar. His disciples asked him why he so wished. He replied, because without God's love and divine grace, Vidyasagar could not have been so great. Accordingly he presented himself one evening before our hero. No sooner did he appear, than Vidyasagar rose from his seat and advanced to receive him; but before he could approach the Paramahansa, the latter sat down before him upon the floor of the room, and said,—'I have crossed drains and ditches, pools and tanks, and at last I am come to the Sagar (sea).' Vidyasagar replied,—'As you are already come, there is no help; you may take out some salt water, if you like, or if you cast your net, you will fish only shells; there is nothing in this sea but salt water and shells.' The Paramahansa said,—' Why should I take out salt water? There is not merely a sea of salt; there are a sea of milk, a sea of curd, a sea of honey, and so forth. You are not a sea of ignorance; you are one of knowledge. When I have come to you, I will fish out pearls; you are full of pearls.' After such humorous talks for some time, they fell to serious conversation on different topics, and each was highly delighted at the other's conduct and manner of speech. In the meantime, arrived a quantity of the well-known delicious confectionary of Burdwan presented to Vidyasagar by one of his friends. He requested the Paramahansa to partake of the dainty sweets. The saintly visitor accepted the invitation and ate of the sweetmeats. Henceforth the two had a great fond regard and esteem for each other.