Isvar Chandra Vidyasagar, a story of his life and work/Chapter 30
CHAPTER XXX.
Disasters Again.
In June, 1872, Vidyasagar's second daughter, Kumudini Devi, was married to Aghor Nath Chattopadhyay of Rudrapur in the district of 24 Pergunnas. He was Sub-Registrar of Purulia in Manbhum.
About this time, arose some incidents, which led Vidyasagar to be highly offended with his only son, Narayan Chandra. By degrees, the displeasure grew to such a fearful height, that he was constrained to estrange him. There was thus a wide gulf between the two. God alone knew what his heart suffered at the unnatural separation, but to all external appearance he had perfect composure, which showed that he was not dissatisfied with the step he had taken. Narayan Chandra's mother was, of course, most sincerely grieved at the estrangement of her only, dear son. She never afterwards felt ease or comfort. She often remonstrated with her husband on his uncompromising conduct towards the son, but Vidyasagar was as firm as a rock. Narayan Chandra's enemies found an opportunity to be revenged upon; they brought on serious complaints against him. They added fuel to the fire, and kept Vidyasagar's feelings of displeasure against him always wide awake, thereby preventing the reconciliation so heartily desired by the mother.
Narayan Chandra, by his own efforts, became a Sub-Registrar of Assurances. He was, at that time, as spirited and self-reliant as his father. He visited his father's house now and then, but no talk passed between the two.
Instances of a father's estrangement of his child for the latter's failing in duty or improper conduct are very rare in this world. Although Vidyasagar had been constrained to be separated from his son to all outward appearance, he could not wholly efface his love for him. The ties of natural affection are too strong to be easily cut asunder. It is said, that on one occasion, a look at the son's photograph moved him to a flood of tears. Narayan Chandra's wife and children were very dear to his heart. He kept up epistolary communication with them, and aided them by remittances of money.
On the 15th June, 1872, the "Hindu Family Annuity Fund" was established. It was started with very laudable objects. The natives of Bengal, with a limited income, can leave no provision for the maintenance of their parents, wives, children, or other relations. The Fund was created with a view to provide for such means. If one wished that one's wife or any other relative should have a monthly allowance of 5 rupees, after one's death, one had to deposit two rupees and a quarter every month till the last day of his life. If one wished for a monthly provision of 10 rupees, one had to deposit a proportionate amount. In this way one might make provisions for a monthly allowance up to the limit of 30 rupees.
The necessity for the establishment of such a Fund was first determined at a meeting of some respectable and influential native gentlemen held on the 23rd February, 1872, in the premises of the Metropolitan Institution. The Fund was first opened at No. 32, College Street, with 10 subscribers. Besides, a few benevolent, wealthy persons paid considerable amounts as donations to begin with. The Paikpara Raj family contributed 2,500 rupees. For the first and second years, Isvar Chandra Vidyasagar and the Hon'ble Dwarka Nath Mitter were Trustees of the Fund. On Dwarka Nath Mitter's death, Maharaja Jatindra Mohan Tagore, the Hon'ble Rames Chandra Mitra, and Vidyasagar were Trustees for the third year. At the outset, the following gentlemen were officebearers of the Fund. Chairman—Syama Charan De. Deputy-Chairman—Muralidhar Sen. Directors—Ray Dina Bandhu Mitra Bahadur, Rajendra Nath Mitra, Govinda Chandra Dhar, Nabin Chandra Sen, Isan Chandra Mukhopadhyay, Prasanna Kumar Sarvvadhikari, Nanda Lal Mitra, Rajendra Nath Bandyopadhyay, Narendra Nath Sen, and Panchanan Chaudhuri. Medical Officer and Health Examiner of the Subscribers—Dr. Mahendra Lal Sarkar.
Some time after the foundation of the Hindu Family Annuity Fund, the "Albert Life Assurance Company" was started with the same object; but the latter business failed, to the great loss of many poor persons.
Vidyasagar was connected with the Annuity Fund till the end of 1875. In his opinion, the Fund worked well in an organised way for three years since its establishment. On the 27th December, 1875, he addressed a letter to the Directors intimating his design to sever his connection with the Fund. On the 2nd January, 1876, the Directors held a special meeting and called on Vidyasagar to give his reasons for his intended separation. He communicated his reasons in a very long letter, dated 21st February, 1876. The letter was subsequently printed, covering over 20 pages Foolscap. The language of the letter is vigorous and may be given a high place as a very good piece of literary composition in Bengali. The reasons set forth therein were not groundless. The gist of what he said was, that the Secretary and most of the Directors had combined themselves into a party and had mustered strong to thwart Vidyasagar's measures and to humiliate him, and that they had brought about much irregularity in the management of the Fund. He, therefore, thought it advisable to withdraw himself from its connection.
He charged the Directors with disregard of the rules and neglect of the true interests of the Fund, and the Subscribers with indifference to its affairs. His idea was that the natives of Bengal had not yet learned to work in conjunction and cooperation. He stated it distinctly in his letter, when referring to the ill-management of the Fund. It was this conviction of his that had led him to decline to join the Fund at the outset. Great persuasions had afterwards induced him to join it.
That the Secretary and the Directors of his party had mustered strong and brought about great irregularities in the management of the Fund, Vidyasagar demonstrated very clearly. The main charges brought against them were, that the accounts had not been properly kept, that the rules had not been altered when necessary, that the name of the Chairman had been put down in the Annual Report of the Fund without his cognisance when the latter had declined to sign it for irregular proceedings, that unnecessary withdrawals of money had been made from the Fund's Bank, and so forth. He brought another very serious charge. A clerk being required for the office of the Fund, Vidyasagar had been urgently requested by the Directors to find a competent man for the post. He had at first declined to take the responsibility, but at the pressing solicitations of the Directors, he gave a fully qualified man. This man had already been holding an office in the East Indian Railway Company's service, and Vidyasagar made him resign that place, and appointed him as clerk to the Fund. But shortly afterwards, the Secretary dismissed the man, without even consulting the Directors, and thus placed Vidyasagar in a false position. The reasons set forth by Vidyasagar were most distressingly painful. He stated in clear and plain but pitiful words how sincerely he was pained at the severance of his connection with the Fund. The purport of what he said in the concluding portion of his letter was:—
'I lent my utmost exertions and attention to the foundation and improvement of this Fund. You have expectations of the enjoyment of the fruits of this tree, but I do not entertain such hopes. My idea is, that every one should try his best to do good to his native country. It was with this conviction, that I bestowed my best thoughts and endeavours on this subject. I had no other motive of furthering my self-interest. I do not know whether you will believe me when I say, but still I must say, that I have a greater affection for the Fund than any of you. My inmost heart alone knows what pangs it suffers to forget that affection wholly. Those whom you have intrusted with the charge of management, do not walk in a straight path. These circumstances have led me to be afraid that my further continuance in the business of the Fund will in future bring a great censure on my head, and I shall be made answerable before God. It is this fear only that makes me cut off my connection with the Fund, though most reluctantly and painfully.
'At your special meeting of the 2nd January, you have expressed a wish and request that I should retain my connection with the Fund; but it has become very difficult for me to comply with your request. Numbers of people come to consult me whether they should subscribe to the Fund. I am then put to a great dilemma. Under the present state of the Fund, I think, it would be wrong to advise any one to subscribe to it; while it would be equally wrong to deter any body from subscribing to it. The reason is, that it would be deceiving a man to induce him to subscribe to it, when a conviction has grown upon me that in future the Fund might be in a state of disorder; while to deter him would be acting in opposition to the Fund. To deceive a man wilfully, and to act in opposition to it while continuing in its connection, both are equally very wrong. If I keep any further connection with the Fund, I must commit either of the wrongs. It is this dilemma that disables me to comply with your request, for which I crave your indulgence.
'In fact, I am an unimportant person; yet you relied on me and charged me with such an important trust; I therefore pour forth my heartfelt gratitude to you. In the course of the period I held the important trust, I must have committed some errors; you will, please, be good enough to excuse me for them. So long that I was one of your trustees, I tried my best to do good to the Fund. I never cognisantly or wilfully showed the slightest disregard, indifference or inattention to it. I hope, you would be graciously pleased to give me leave to retire.'
From this time forward he had no connection with the Annuity Fund. Some time afterwards, Maharaja Jatindra Mohan Tagore and the Hon'ble Rames Chandra Mitra also withdrew their names from the Fund. Consequently, the Directors had to seek the help of the Government in the affair.
Vidyasagar had put forth all his energies—had devoted himself, heart and soul, to the establishment of the Hindu Family Annuity Fund. As he was the principal starter, he was nominated one of the trustees. For one year he worked with full vigour. At the end of the first year, the enthusiasm diminished a little; in the second year, it slackened still more; and, in the third year, his independent spirit revolted at the idea of acting in subordination to others, who had in consequence of mustering strong, had the upper hand in everything. After all, Vidyasagar was a native of unfortunate Bengal, particularly of this degenerated age. The Bengalees of the present age have no unity among themselves; they cannot act in union and conjunction. Every one is independent; every one is arbitrary; every body follows his own opinions. It was with a view to remove this slur of his countrymen that Vidyasagar attempted to exhibit a different scenery on the stage of the Annuity Fund. But he had to yield to the overpowering influence of the opponents. In the short space of three years he was obliged to quit his post. In giving up the helm of the Fund, he charged others with want of unity and with incapacity to work in conjunction; but others laid the blame on his shoulders. They said that in many cases Vidyasagar had proved his own incapacity to work in conjunction with other people. No doubt, he joined them, at the outset, with great enthusiasm, but he could never keep to the end. This was Vidyasagar's peculiarity. Such peculiarity is undoubtedly an indication of spiritedness; but does it not sometimes lead to arbitrariness?
The letter, referred to above, clearly showed that Vidyasagar was not a double-dealer; he was never afraid to open his mind for fear of incurring one's displeasure, or to suppress his feelings for the satisfaction of another. He firmly believed that it was wrong not to declare frankly one's own mind or opinions. As he never shrank from giving out freely his own convictions, so he was highly pleased, when he found others doing the same. We will illustrate this by an incident of his previous life.
On one occasion, Mahamahopadhyay Rakhal Das Nyayratna, Pandit Sibchandra Sarvvabhauma, Madhu Sudan Smritiratna, and Panchanan Tarkaratna called upon him. The last-named visitor was, at that time, still a pupil but had nearly finished his course of instruction. In course of conversation, they fell to discussing religious topics. Vidyasagar said that religion was nothing but formation of parties. 'Take for instance the following Sloka of Manu:—
“যেনাস্য পিতরো জাতা যেন জাতাঃ পিতামহাঃ।
তেন যায়াৎ সতাং মার্গং তেন গচ্ছন্ ন দূষ্যতি।” i.e.
‘You should take an honest course, and follow the track of your fathers and grandfathers; it would not be wrong to pursue that track.’ Vidyasagar continued,—‘Now, what is the meaning of this? If you would take an honest course, why then should you go to follow the track of your forefathers? The simple meaning is, that unless the two ways are indicated at the same time, the screw of your party becomes slack. Manu was afraid that if he indicated only the honest course and let it alone, the members of his party might quit his side, and pursue the honest course of other nations. It was this fear, that led him to bestow his best thoughts on the subject and indicate two ways at the same time.’
Panchanan Tarkaratna very humbly and politely suggested,—‘My interpretation is quite different. But, under the circumstances, it is not a very difficult thing to give such a signification of the Manu's passage as may be somewhat gratifying to you.’
Vidyasagar.—‘How can you give that signification to it?
Tarkaratna.—In the expression, সতাং মার্গং there might be a clerical error; it might very conveniently be read সত্যমার্গং; and then, the meaning would be,—‘To follow the track of forefathers is the true course for virtuous people.’
Vidyasagar.—'Nyayratna, this youth is very sharp, indeed!'
Rakhal Das Nyayratna and the other visitors unanimously complimented the young Tarkaratna in eloquent terms. At last, Vidyasagar said,—'What is the end of all this praise? Nothing, but beggary. At this young age, he has finished the Nyaya and other philosophies; it is a high compliment, no doubt. But what will he do? Let him go home and starve.'
In the beginning of 1873 Vidyasagar had to face a most dire calamity. On the 4th February of that year, his eldest son-in-law, Gopal Chandra Samajpati, died of cholera at Benares, where he had gone in company with Vidyasagar's nephew, (sister's son), Beni Madhav Mukhopadhyay, for a change, as his health had already been much impaired. The news came upon our hero like a thunderbolt. He loved the son-in-law most dearly. Gopal Chandra was a young man of handsome and lovely appearance. He had a profound scholastic education and a poetic genius. His manners were most affable and courteous. Vidyasagar was most grievously afflicted at the loss of such a beloved relation. But to console his dear, widowed daughter, he had to assume the appearance of external composure, which served to rend his tender heart the more. He sympathised with his daughter most sincerely. She led a rigidly austere life; Vidyasagar also did the same. She had to give up fish and flesh and to eat only one meal a day; Vidyasagar did the same. She fasted on the Ekadasi day; her father also observed fasting on that day. This state of things continued for a considerable period. At last, at the urgent solicitations of the daughter, he had to give up the austerities.
He made Hemlata (which was the name of the eldest widowed daughter) the sole mistress of his house-hold. She also did her best to improve the affairs of her father. Her house-wifery and affectionate treatment pleased everybody. The busy, active life that she led to feed and tend her father and generally to bring ease and comfort to all the inmates of the house left her no leisure to openly shed tears for her dear husband. In fact, she was the goddess of the house-hold. Would the advocates of widow marriage open their eyes and see how a true Hindu widow can pass her days virtuously without pining away at the loss of one husband and eagerly looking out for another? Hemlata had two little boys, whose sole charge fell on the shoulders of her father. Vidyasagar brought them up with the tenderest care. He made the best provisions possible for their education. The two boys, Sures Chandra Samajpati and Jatis Chandra Samajpati, read English and Sanskrit at home. Vidyasagar did not think fit to send his grandsons to school. He himself taught them Sanskrit, and engaged competent teachers to instruct them in English. There was nothing in the world that he would not give them or do for them. If he ever heard them lament the loss of their father, it would pierce his heart like a poisoned dagger. The elder grand-son once expressed a desire to go to England, but his grand-father and mother, both prevented him. One day, when sitting to dinner, Sures Chandra said to his mother;—'Had my father been living now, I would never have gone to ask your father.' Vidyasagar overheard this, and was moved to a flood of tears. If he saw them undertake or carry out a noble and benevolent deed, his delight knew no bounds. On one occasion, the younger boy, Jatis Chandra, found a poor man suffering from Dysentery, lying on the road. He brought home the helpless sufferer. Vidyasagar was highly pleased at his young grandchild's humanity. He provided for the patient's treatment and nursing, and took great care of him. But, unfortunately, the poor man's days were numbered; nothing could save him from the hands of death. Sures Chandra's abilities for good composition were a source of great delight to the grand-father. The two boys were dearer to him than his own begotten children. Sures Chandra is, at present, the editor of the Sahitya, a well conducted monthly. Vidyasagar took charge not only of his own grandsons, but also of the mother, brothers, and sisters of the deceased son-in-law. He housed them in a separate rented house, and provided for their comfortable living.
In spite of these dire catastrophes, the thoughts of his educational institutions were always vivid in his mind. He never for a moment lost sight of them. The anxieties for their welfare and success made him sometimes forget his afflictions. Even under such distressing circumstances, he opened, in 1874, a Branch Metropolitan School at Syampukur. Like them other institution, it soon rose to high eminence and success.