The last sentence set Macaulay’s antagonists in a frenzy. Mr Shakespeare, the president of the Instruction Committee, and Mr Prinsep, its secretary, resigned. The Governor-General put Macaulay into the president’s chair, and from that time the latter reigned supreme in the Committee.
Krishna Mohan Banerji and Ramtanu Lahiri, who had at the time drunk deep at the fountain of English literature, and who were anxious to see their views accepted all through the country, hailed Macaulay as the harbinger of light. True these young men showed an extreme partiality to what was English; but one thing must be said in their favour: they were candid and they conscientiously used the light they had received from their late teacher, Mr Derozio, and from Ram Mohan Roy. Lord Macaulay sowed his seeds on the prepared soil, and rich was the harvest reaped. The cry they had long since raised for the demolition of everything Oriental to make room for what was Occidental became louder as he infused into them a fresh spirit of reformation.
One of the foremost among these young Bengalis was Ram Gopal Ghosh. In his house all his former college mates met almost every evening. One notable and noble feature of his character was that he heartily loved them. At the time of which we are speaking he was a man of position and influence; and though he had much to do, in the shape of mercantile business, he, far from regarding the attendance of his friends as an interruption, felt uneasy if they ever failed to give him the usual call. For Ramtanu he had a great affection. He gave him the pet name of Tanu. The party present in Ram Gopal’s parlour consisted of the elite of Bengal, who made the best use of the time by conversing on useful subjects. Glasses full of sherry and champagne went round, but, far from muddling their
