Twelve Men of Bengal in the Nineteenth Century/Ramtanu Lahiri
Ramtanu Lahiri
RAMTANU LAHIRI.
1813–1898.
Among the many names associated with the great Renaissance in Bengal during the nineteenth century that of Ramtanu Lahiri bears an honoured place. Foremost in every good work he set by his daily life and conduct a shining example to all those who with him were treading the difficult paths of moral and social progress. His intense lovableness was the secret of the great influence he wielded, his saintly life and whole-hearted devotion to the interests of his fellow-countrymen never failing to leave a deep impression on all those who came in contract with him. Though he courageously broke away from the old beliefs and the old creeds, it was only in so far as he held that they failed in the light of modern knowledge and investigation. All that was best in them he was eager to retain. His was no purely destructive creed ruthlessly sweeping away all that had been held sacred for generations. This was the natural tendency of the sudden awakening that had come to Bengal in the middle of the nineteenth century, but from the first Ramtanu threw the whole weight of his influence on the side of moderation. He was wise enough to see that no nation, enervated by long sleep, can spring to life, at once capable and equipped to guide its own destiny with sure and steady hand. While none was more eager than he to step forward boldly on the road of progress, he realised to the full the supreme importance of taking no false step. In quietness and in confidence, in slow, carefully-considered advancement lay the strength of the new nation that was springing into birth.
Ramtanu Lahiri came of a family of the highest caste, a Brahmin of the Brahmins, a Kulin of long descent. For several generations his ancestors had been honourably connected with the important family of the Maharajas of Nadia near Krishnagar. His great-grandfather, his grandfather and his uncle were all Dewans in their service, while his own father, a younger son, was the Dewan of two of the younger scions of the same family. Such continuity of service speaks much for the loyalty of Ramtanu's immediate ancestors, while the memories that still survive of many of them show them to have been men of singular piety and unworldliness. It is told of Ramtanu's great-grandfather, Ramgovinda, that when a division of the family property took place, everything that was of great value was placed in one share while in the other was placed only the family shalgram and some debbattar land. Ramgovinda, when asked to make his choice, unhesitatingly chose the latter, willing to face poverty rather than relinquish his tutelary deity and all that it represented. His grandson Ramkrishna, the father of Ramtanu, inherited his pious nature. His last days he devoted almost entirely to religious exercises, strictly observing every orthodox Brahminical rule of life. His simple, well-ordered household was one of Ramtanu's earliest recollections and it had an influence upon him that remained with him through life.
Ramkrishna Lahiri had eight sons and two daughters of whom Ramtanu was the fifth son and seventh child. His mother was Jagaddhatri Davi, daughter of Dewan Radhakanta Rai of Krishnagar whose position was second only to that of the Maharaja himself. Ramkrishna, however, who was only Dewan to the Tila Babus, a younger branch of the family, never commanded a large salary and the education of his numerous family left him in straitened circumstances. His edlest son Kesava Lahiri was appointed to the sheristadarship of the Judge's court at Jessore and with true filial devotion he made his first object the rendering of help to his father in bringing up his large family. To him Ramtanu owed much of his early education, and he always spoke of him with the greatest admiration and respect as a perfect type of devoted son and brother. Many little incidents are recorded of his life showing his unselfishness and willingness to help others. He it was who took Ramtanu to live him and personally superintended his earliest studies in the intervals of his own heavy official work. Thus the first years of Ramtanu's life were surrounded by good influences which were to bear fruit in after years.
Ramtanu was born in 1813 at village Baruihuda in Krishnagar in the house of his mother's family. At the age of five he began his education in one of the local patshalas, then generally located in the house of the most important man in the village. They were schools of the most primitive description, the guru like his pupils seated on the ground, and the latter writing on plantain leaves for paper with pointed sticks for pens. The teaching was of the most elementary character, and with no terror of an inspecting officer hanging over his head, the guru taught as much or as little as he pleased, the whole system being very different from that which came into force after the awakening of Bengal when the greatest minds of the day had devoted themselves to the cause of education. In 1826, Ramtanu's elder brother Kesava took him to reside with him at Chetla, a suburb of Calcutta, in order that he might secure a better education than his native village could provide. Kesava's resources, however, were limited, his salary being only Rs. 30 a month and it was therefore impossible for him to bear the expense of sending Ramtanu to an English school. At first he had to be content with giving him what instruction he could in his own spare time, teaching him Arabic, Persian and a little English. With only the early mornings and a little English his disposal, however, the whole of the day being occupied with his office work, it was not possible for him to devote the attention to Ramtanu's education that he wished, and from the first it had been his great desire to get him admitted as a free student into the institution which was then known as the Society's School, but which afterwards bore and still bears the name of the Hare School.
David Hare, a Scotsman who had come out to Calcutta as a watchmaker in 1800 at the age of twenty-five, had become one of the pioneers of education in Bengal. A man of no great education himself, he had become firmly impressed with the belief that a sound English education was essential to the real intellectual development of Bengal. Associated with some of the leading Bengali gentlemen of the day, among whom one of the foremost was Ram Mohan Ray, he succeeded in starting an English school for Indian students in the centre of Calcutta. The Hindu College was opened on the 20th of January, 1817, and in the following year a society was formed for opening English and Vernacular schools in various parts of Calcutta. Selling out his business, he bought a piece of land sufficient for his support, and being thus free from worldly cares, he was able to devote his whole attention to his pet scheme of education. Under his energetic guidance other schools were soon founded in various parts of Calcutta and so great was Mr. Hare's interest in their welfare that it was his practice to go round to visit them in his palanquin every morning, ending with the Hindu College. He was looked upon with the greatest love and reverence by the students, many of whom, too poor to pay for it, owed their education entirely to his generosity and that of his friends whose interest he had aroused. The story of Ramtanu's appointment as a free scholar gives some insight into the difficulties with which Mr. Hare had to contend.
As soon as it became known that he kept a number of free scholarships in his own gift, he became pestered with applications for them. Kesava had become acquainted with one Gour Mohan Vidyalankar, a pundit in one of the David Hare schools, and he enlisted his help in endeavouring to secure one of the free scholarships for Ramtanu. Gour Mohan took the latter to Mr. Hare's house, but this first visit did not prove a success. Beseiged by applications for the free scholarships, Mr. Hare had become suspicious of the good faith of many of the applicants, and he refused at first to entertain Gour Mohan's request. The latter, however, evidently knowing the kindness of Mr. Hare's nature, instructed Ramtanu to remain in waiting outside the great man's gate, and to repeat his request, running beside his palanquin every time he entered or left his house. For two months Ramtanu remained a supplicant, poor and in straitened circumstances, but hopeful and persistent. It was truly a triumph of importunity, for Mr. Hare at last convinced of Ramtanu's sincere desire for an English education appointed him to a free scholarship in the Hare school.
Ramtanu at this time was thirteen years of age. His elder brother, having removed from Calcutta, a home was found for him in the house of Ram Kanta Khan, a cousin of his father's, at Shampukur. Here he met with much kindness, and enjoyed the companionship of Digambar Mittra, the future Raja, who had been entered at the Hare school on the same day as himself. The moral atmosphere of Calcutta was unfortunately then at its lowest ebb. The young men of the city had begun to throw off the restraints which had so long held them in check under the strict Hindu code, and were indulging in every form of vice. Retaining the outward observances of their religion, they were shamelessly abandoning its principles and living lives that outwardly conformed but inwardly violated every moral code. It was infinitely to Ramtanu's credit that he passed unscathed through these evil influences among which as a student he was necessarily thrown.
After two years at the Hare School, Ramtanu had pursued his studies with such deligence that he won a scholarship at the Hindu College. This College had been established in 1817 as the outcome of the exertions of David Hare, Baidyanath Mukherjee, Ram Mohan Roy and others, supported by the Chief Justice of Bengal, Sir Hyde East. It had originated in the desire to give the rising generation a thorough education on western lines. Government had at first intentionally avoided introducing anything of the kind in its sincere desire to avoid the appearance of forcing a new system of education against their will upon the Indian people. So far from desiring to urge anything that might be opposed to their wishes or antagonistic to their train of thought, Government had endeavoured to encourage education on eastern lines. Warren Hastings with this object had established the Calcutta Madrassa as early as 1781 for the study of Arabic and Persian, and more recent efforts had been made in the same direction. But already the spirit of change and unrest was abroad. A feeling of revolt against the old creeds had grown up, and freedom of thought was making itself as it had never hitherto done in the history of Hinduism. Though as yet confined to the few, this spirit of progress was animating some of the most brilliant and able men of the rising generation. To such as these, education on western lines appeared the first essential. While fully alive to the many merits of the old regime, they were convinced that western modes of thought, western knowledge of science and western insistence on moral excellence could alone breathe new life into the decaying structure of modern Hindu society.
For five years Ramtanu remained at the Hindu college under influences which left their mark upon his character. Derozio was then at the full height of his brief and meteoric career, exercising a sway over the minds of the rising generation of Bengali students that it is difficult to exaggerate. Actually connected with the College for only three brief years, his influence was felt even more in the social gatherings of students at his own house than in his ordinary class instructions. At these social gatherings, which met after school hours, readings in poetry, literature and moral philosophy took place. Every subject under the sun was open for discussion. Yet while freedom of thought and freedom of speech were the watchwords of these meetings, Derozio enforced a strict moral code among his pupils, insisting upon the necessity of straightness in word and deed and above all of truth in all the dealings of daily life. Coming so suddenly after centuries of unquestioning acceptance of the old faith, it was only to be anticipated that some members of the little group of reformers should be carried away by the breadth and depth of their new ideas. 'Down with idolatry,' 'down with superstition' had become the cries of a section of the young Bengal party and though the old regime was strong enough to secure the dismissal of Derozio from the Hindu College in 1831, and practically to excommunicate Ram Mohan Ray, who had founded the Brahmo Samaj in 1828, it was impossible for it to stem the rising tide of free thought and impatience of the old restraints.
Through all these momentous years Ramtanu had remained at the Hindu College. In 1833 he became a teacher there on the modest salary of thirty rupees a month. Busy with his work all day and engrossed in the great questions which were agitating Hindu society, he was not forgetful of family ties and duties. A touching story is told of his devotion to his younger brother, Kali Charan Lahiri, at this time. The latter was reading for his exmination for the medical degree, when, a few months before the date of it, his eyesight failed and he was ordered for the time being to give up reading altogether. It was a terrible blow to all his hopes, and but for his brother's help there is no doubt that he would have had to give up the career that he had planned. Ramtanu, however, was determined that if it was humanly possible, his brother should enter as arranged for the examination, and devoting every moment of his spare time to him, he read aloud the prescribed text books over and over again until Kali Charan practically knew them by heart. When the time came he passed the examination with flying colours, a result due solely, as he always gratefully acknowledged to Ramtanu's help.
The year 1835 is a memorable one in the history of education in Bengal. The Governor-General, Lord William Bentick, had long been at variance with the Committee of Public Instruction, which had been appointed in 1823, and which was still strongly in favour of an exclusively oriental curriculum. Lord Macaulay, who came to India as Legal Member of Council, soon proved himself a strong ally of the Governor-General and he decided that there was no condition laid down the grant made in 1813, for the renewal and improvement of literature, that made it inapplicable for the promotion of a modern English education. Accordingly in 1835 Lord William Bentick ordered that the lac of rupees granted in 1813, should be expended in imparting instruction in European languages and sciences through the medium of English. This decisive action on the part of the Governor General, though opposed by the old school, was eagerly welcomed by the younger generation among whom Ramtanu held an honoured place. He and a number of others used to meet regularly in the house of a friend, Ram Gopal Ghose, and, among other schemes this enthusiastic little group of reformers devised for the diffusion of knowledge beyond their own immediate circle, was the production of two journals, the Gyanuneshun, the Search after Knowledge, and the Bengal Spectator which contained columns both in English and Bengali. Further they started a club known as 'The Society for the Acquisition of General Knowledge,' where discussions on every subject were freely encouraged. Topics were by no means wanting, for these years were among the most memorable in modern Bengal. The Calcutta Medical College had been founded in June, 1835, and though the want of it had long been felt, there having previously been no adequate school for the training of Indian students in modern medical science, it met with opposition from a certain section of the community as likely to destroy the caste of students, who would be initiated into all the secrets of the dissecting room. In the same year also an Act conferring full liberty on the Press was passed. This was a great joy to the group of young Bengal students, who, accustomed to express themselves freely in their own private meetings, were now enabled to write and disseminate their opinions with the same freedom in the Press. About the same time the Calcutta Public Library was founded and placed in the Metcalfe Hall on its completion in 1842. It proved a great boon to the rising generation. These events, which are but a few of the most prominent of these years, show how rapid was the progress that was being made, and how many must have been the subjects of absorbing interest available for discussion by Ramtanu and his friends. David Hare, who had proved so good a friend not only te Ramtanu but to the many other youths who had passed through his famous schools, died in 1842, and about the same time Ramtanu lost his elder brother Kesava to whom he owed so much. His mother, to whom he had been devotedly attached, died shortly afterwards.
In 1846 began a fresh chapter in Ramtanu's life. In that year the Krishnagar College was opened, being one of the first large colleges outside Calcutta and one of the first-fruits of the revival of education which had taken such firm root in the Capital. It was under the patronage of the Maharaja Siris Chandra of Krishnagar who entered his son's name as one of the first pupils and himself accepted the position of a member of the managing committee. Captain D. L. Richardson was appointed first Principal, Ramtanu being given the post of secod master under him in the Collegiate School. Here Ramtanu found himself in congenial surroundings after his own heart. The same struggle that was going on between the old forces and the new in Calcutta was soon in actual progress in Krishnagar. The Maharaja favoured the party of progress and even went so far as to open a branch of the Brahmo Samaj in his own palace. A very large number of the students and teachers of the newly established college joined him, but Ramtanu from the first had not been wholly favourable towards its teachings. He had been entirely opposed to its first attacks on Christianity and had not sympathised with its attempts to attach to the Vedas the character of a divine revelation. Ramtanu's breadth of view and broadmindedness were remarkable in an age when bigotry was rife. 'Our desire should be to see truth triumph,' he wrote at this time. 'Let the votaries of all religions appeal to the reason of their fellow creatures and let him who has truth on his side prevail.' But although he did not join the Brahmo Samaj he was closely associated with many of its members, meeting them in daily intercourse, freely exchanging ideas with them and discussing with them every aspect of religious belief. His influence in Krishnagar was unbounded. Coming straight from the midst of the most advanced coterie in Calcutta he was welcomed by the little group of men who were struggling towards enlightenment in Krishnagar. He infused into them new life and new ideas. The influence that such men as David Hare, Derozio, and Ram Mohan Roy had exercised upon him, he imparted to others—his love of truth, his respect for freedom of thought and speech, and his intense desire for knowledge, which alone could lead men to the Truth. Always he advocated free and unrestrained discussion, believing that it was only by going to the root of a question and judging for oneself on a full presentment of the facts that true knowledge could be acquired. He himself was always eager to gain fresh knowledge, even from the youngest and humblest, and it was this enthusiasm combined with innate modesty and simplicity of heart that helped to win him the popularity which he possessed in such full measure.
One of the most controversial topics of the day was the question of the remarriage of Hindu widows. The earliest discussion with regard to it had appeared in the pages of the Bengal Spectator, edited by the pupils of Derozio. At Krishnagar, the Maharaja Siris Chandra interested himself in the matter and discussed it with the pundits of Nadia while the ardent young reformers in the college held a meeting to express their sympathy with it and their dissatisfaction with other customs of Hindu Society. But the band of reformers was a small one and the upholders of the old regime were not inactive. They began by spreading a rumour that the college students had committed the offence which is unpardonable in the eyes of every orthodox Hindu. They accused them of having killed a cow and eaten its flesh. The rumour quickly gained credence among those who were only too anxious to believe evil of the new party and many families withdrew their sons from the college, while even the Maharaja himself hung back, reluctant to break completely with the pundits and the influential supporters of the old regime. So great was the influence brought to bear against him, and so well did the opposite party recognise the leading part played by Ramtanu. that the latter was forced to recognise that it would be not only for his own benefit but for the good of the cause which he had at heart that he should for a time at least leave Krishnagar. Accordingly in April 1851 he obtained a transfer to Burdwan, being appointed Head Master of the school there on a salary of one hundred and fifty rupees a month.
The social atmosphere of Burdwan was very different from that of Krishnagar. The latter was following closely in the steps of Calcutta, keeping itself abreast of the latest movements. In Burdwan there was not the same class of students eager for enquiry and discussion. It was during this period, when Ramtanu doubtless had more time for reflection, that he finally broke with the old Hinduism. In spite of his advanced views and the persecution he had suffered at the hands of his coreligionists he still wore the Brahminical thread. A story is told of an incident that helped to induce him finally to break the last slight link that bound him to a creed to which he no longer adhered in spirit. He was performing the shradh ceremony of his mother at Krishnagar in the manner of an orthodox Brahmin, when a youth pointing at him the finger of scorn laughed at him, saying, 'You do not believe in Hinduism. Yet what is this? Here you are performing your mother's shradh with your paita fully displayed. Truly a real Brahmin! If not, you are a hypocrite.' The taunt cut Ramtanu to the heart, the more so as on reflection he could only admit its justification. In October, 1851 he finally broke the last link that bound him to the old belief by removing the sacred thread.
It was only for a year that Ramtanu remained at Burdwan. In 1852 he went to Uttarpara as Headmaster of the English school there, a position he continued to occupy for four years. Here immediately after his public renunciation of Hinduism he was subjected to much persecution from orthodox Hindus. No servant would stay with him, and he and his wife were often compelled to do all the menial work of the house themselves. Some of his friends, seeing his distress, urged him to yield on small points, such as readopting the paita, which would have made him outwardly conform and would have enabled him to be received again among the orthodox. There can be no doubt that the smallest sign of yielding would have been welcomed by the opposite party which fully realised Ramtanu's influence and how great a danger he was to the faith to which they still clung. But Ramtanu steadfastly refused to yield. He would not purchase ease and immunity from persecution by means of a lie, by conforming outwardly while inwardly he did not believe. He was content to abide by what he had done, consoled by the knowledge that he had done only what he thought to be right.
In 1854 came the inauguration of the new educational policy of government. The Court of Directors sent out a despatch, said to have been drawn up by John Stuart Mill, which directed that the Governor-General should establish an Educational Department as a separate Department of the Government of India, that a University should be established in each of the Presidency cities, and that new schools should be founded and those already existing supported, while government aid should be given to those founded by private enterprise. It was a great step in advance, for without this generous assistance on the part of the Government it would have been impossible for education to spread as rapidly as it has since done. The new Education Department was at once established with a Director of Public Instruction at its head and a large number of Inspectors under him. Schools for the training of teachers were established and with a rapidity that was astonishing. High English, Middle English and Vernacular schools sprang up all over the country in the years that followed.
The work that Ramtanu did during his four years tenure of office at Uttarpara long survived him. Many a young mind there came under his influence, receiving an impression that it was never afterwards to lose. Those who had benefited by his teaching and example, gratefully acknowledging their debt, erected after his death more than forty years later this tablet to his memory in the school where he had taught—
This tablet to the memory of
BABU RAMTANU LAHIRI
Is put up by his surviving uttarpara pupils as a token of the love, gratitude and veneration that he inspired in them while headmaster of the uttarpara school from 1852 to 1856 by his loving care, by his sound method of instruction, which aimed less at the mere imparting of knowledge than at that supreme end of all education, the healthy stimulation of the intellect, the emotion, and the will of the pupil, and above all by the example of the noble life he led.
Born December 1813: died August 1898.
It would be difficult for pupils to inscribe to any teacher a noble tribute than this.
During the few years that succeeded his leaving the Uttarpara school, Ramtanu held several different appointments. Transferred to the Baraset school in 1857, he remained there about eighteen months, exercising the same personal influence over his pupils as elsewhere, and from its vicinity to Calcutta being able to keep in close touch with his friends there. In 1858 he was transferred again to Krishnagar, but after only a few months there he was appointed to the English school at Rassapagla near Calcutta, established by Government especially for the education of Tippoo Sultan's descendants. Though reluctant to leave Krishnagar where he had only so recently returned, he welcomed the opportunity of again enjoying the society of his friends in Calcutta.
Once more Ramtanu was in close touch with the great movements that were rapidly changing the condition of life and society in Bengal. These were eventful years. The mutiny of 1857, after a brief period of anxiety, had passed, leaving the British government stronger and more firmly rooted than before, while the transfer of the Company to the Crown had paved the way for the proclamation of the Indian Empire which was to come twenty years later. The indigo disturbances were rousing the keenest interest, the Hindu Patriot, that fore-runner of the power of the Press in Bengal, entering with zest into the controversy. Young Bengal was producing some of her first literary men. Ishvar Chandra Gupta, the poet, followed by Michæl Madhu Sudhan Dutt, Haris Chandra Mukherjee, editor of the Hindu Patriot, Bankim Chandra Chatterjee, the novelist, Dinanbandhu Mitter, the dramatist, were proving themselves redoubtable champions of the new learning, while Keshub Chandra Sen was already beginning to make his mark as a reformer and as the refounder of the Brahmo Samaj.
Ramtanu's stay at Rassapagla, however, was short and he was transferred to Barisal as Head Master of the Zilla school there. This appointment he held for only three months, being transferred for the third time to Krishnagar in April, 1861. For the succeeding five and a half years he worked on there, exercising all his old personal fascination upon those who came in contact with him, and then failing health compelled him to retire. Mr. Alfred Smith, then Principal of the Krishnagar College, in sending up his application for pension to the Director of Public Instruction wrote:—
"In parting with Babu Ramtanu Lahiri, I may be allowed to say that Government will lose the services of an educational officer than whom no one has discharged his public duties with greater fidelity, zeal and devotion, or has laboured more assiduously and successfully for the moral elevation of his pupils."
Glowing as this tribute was, it was one that was well deserved and heartily endorsed by every member of the college, masters and students alike. He left Krishnagar amid universal regret.
His health being seriously affected, Ramtanu went to live for a time after his retirement at Bhagalpur, hoping that the drier climate would prove beneficial. This not being the case, however, he returned to his old home at Krishnagar, and there and in Calcutta spent most of his remaining years. Although never again enjoying robust health, he lived for nearly thirty years after his retirement. They were busy years, spent in the management of his family affairs and in close intercourse with all that was best and noblest in the society of the day. In and around his own home at Krishnagar he was universally respected and beloved. Not only those who came into close and immediate contact with him but the poor and unlettered peasant who dwelt without his gates learned to appreciate his worth. A story is told of the wonderful influence he exercised even over those who must have known him chiefly, if not entirely, only by repute. A friend of his was walking in the neighbourhood of his village and curious to find out if the reports of the widespread respect in which he was held locally were true, asked some labourers whom he met on the road if they knew Ramtanu Babu. They at once showed surprise, not unmixed with indignation, that they should be asked such a question. "Who does not know him?" they asked. When questioned further as to what kind of a man he was, one of them replied "Do you call him a man? He is a god." "But how can you call him a god," the stranger asked, "who has cast off the Brahminical thread and eats fowls?" For a moment the men stared at their interrogator. Then one of them answered, "It is evident that you do not belong to this part of the country or you would not have spoken in this way. Casting off the thread and eating fowls may be faults in others, but not in him. Whatever he does is good."
For a time during his retirement, Ramtanu acted as guardian of the minors of the Mukherjee family of Khetra Gobardanga, a responsible post for which he was recommended by Government. There, as elsewhere, his wonderful personality won its way. "Ramtanu's influence was felt by almost every villager" wrote one who knew him well. "He was a friend of both the orthodox Hindus and the members of the Brahmo Samaj. The long standing breach between them in the village was healed by him, who was a friend of both." Although Ramtanu had broken with Hinduism and had not joined the Brahmo Samaj, he was quick to acknowledge what was good in both. To him it mattered little what a man's outward creed might be. Goodness was the same whether it was the goodness of a Hindu, a Muhammadan, a Christian or a Brahmo. Everything that was good and noble he set before himself as the end and aim of life. Every social movement, every reform calculated to improve the position of his fellow countrymen, met with his ready sympathy. Often he approved a proposed reform, yet realised that the times were not yet ripe for bringing it about. Such an instance was female emancipation, which was then one of the many topics of the day. While he was a zealous advocate of it on principle, none recognised quicker than he what care was necessary in putting it into practice, and how jealously their women folk must be guarded from contact with society that might be hurtful to them.
In his later years Ramtanu suffered heavy domestic losses. First his son-in-law, a promising youth, then his daughter Indumati and finally his eldest son Nova Kumar were taken from him. For a man of his affectionate disposition in whom the home ties were so deeply rooted these losses were a heavy trial. Yet he bore them with splendid courage and resignation. Once when he had shown undue emotion at the loss of his daughter, he reproached himself and turning to his friends, said, "We say that God is good, but our conduct hardly tallies with what we say. I have now shown unbelief in shedding tears for Indu. Why should I weep for her when I remember that she is in His good keeping?"
Soon after the loss of his son and daughter, Ramtanu came to live in Calcutta in 1879, continuing to reside there with occasional visits to his home at Krishnagar for the remainder of his life. His circumstances were by no means prosperous and beyond his small pension of seventy five rupees a month he had little upon which to rely. The long illness of his children had been a heavy drain upon his resources and his open handed charity had taken little thought for the future. It was at this stage that his second son Sharat Kumar, now of an age to fend for himself, came with filial devotion to his assistance. Giving up his studies at the University he obtained the employment of Librarian at the Metropolitan Institution, a post he continued to hold for five years. Ambitious, however, of contributing still further to his father's support than the small income so derived would allow, he set up on his own account in 1883 as a booksheller and publisher. The influence of his father's name and the support of his father's large circle of friends enabled him to meet with success from the outset. He thus had the great joy of placing his father beyond the need of financial worries and of very largely contributing to his happiness and comfort during the remaining years of his life.
Ramtanu's last years were still further saddened by the death of his youngest son at the age of fifteen, of his wife, the faithful and devoted partner of all his joys and sorrows, and of his younger brother Dr. Kali Charan Lahiri, as well as of many of his most devoted friends. Yet keenly as he felt these bereavements, they failed to kill the hopefulness and buoyancy of his nature. To the end he maintained his unwavering faith in the divine wisdom, accepting with resignation the trials that were sent to him. He died on the 18th of August, 1898 full of years and honour.
Although it was not given to Ramtanu Lahiri to achieve fame, as the world counts it, in any particular walk of life, his influence on his day and generation was undoubted. Fame would have been the last thing that he himself would have desired. Ambitious only of all that was good and honourable and true, no man could have demanded less of life than he. For himself he asked nothing, for his fellow-men he asked everything. Upon all with whom he came in contact and they were all the leading men of his day, his intense earnestness, his love of truth, his uncompromising aversion to all that was unworthy or unjust, and his neverfailing eagerness to help others, left a deep impression. His humility was touching and profound. "When he saw others who spent much time in prayer," wrote Professor Max Muller of him, "he considered them the most favoured of mortals, for pure and conscientious as he was, he felt himself so sinful that he could but seldom utter a word or two in the spirit of what he considered true prayer." It was this spirit of true modesty which prevented him from ever thrusting himself to the front and taking a leading part in the great controversies that were shaking society to its foundations. Yet quietly and persistently he did the work that it was given to him to do, exercising a very real influence on his day and generation, his sweetness and gentleness of disposition helping to heal the wounds of controversy and pleading for a wider sympathy and a broader toleration in matters of belief.