India and the Indians Part 11

At one time it was almost impossible to get good printing done in India, although many people professed to be printers. Of late years there has been a great change in this respect, and some of the presses produce beautiful vernacular work, and soon their English printing will leave little to be desired. Bookbinding also shows sufficient promise to indicate that first-rate results would be forthcoming if there was more demand for it. Some of the more enterprising newspaper proprietors are issuing festal numbers of their publication in imitation of our Christmas numbers, and though they are in substance rather a sad parody of even our own publications in which the true meaning of Christmas often has so little place, the manner of their production is sufficiently artistic to show that India will be quite capable of producing her own real Christmas number when the happy day dawns when she is found demanding it.

CHAPTER XXII

INDIAN PAGEANTS

Processions. Marriage ceremonies. People take little notice.

Funeral processions. Military display. Eagerness to see the King. Military ardour of Christian boys. Hindu procession diverted into the Church. Embarra.s.sing result. Problems of worship. Religious dancing. Father Benson's "War-Songs."

It is commonly imagined that we in India live in a perpetual state of pageant, and that the Indian is constantly occupied with brilliant display and stately processions, and that he cannot be happy without them. In reality, most Indian processions are of a tawdry character, somewhat of the nature of, but not nearly so imposing, as that of an average circus in England. Nor as a rule do these processions excite much interest, except amongst those who are actually taking part in them, and even their interest is often languid.

The chief processions are in connection with marriages, and rich men spend a great deal of money on that part of the ceremonial. Bands, and horses, and carriages, and bands of artificial flowers borne on the heads of women, and surrounding the bridegroom as he rides on horseback, large fans of peac.o.c.ks' feathers waving round him to keep off evil influences and imaginary flies, torches at night, now supplanted by modern incandescent lamps carried on men's heads, displays of fireworks, and the exploding of harmless bombs--processions such as these abound in Indian towns, and in a simpler form in villages, at seasons which have been declared propitious for weddings. Some of these cavalcades are attended by a mult.i.tude of people whose chief concern in the matter probably centres in the feast which is to follow.

But even the most magnificent procession hardly excites the faintest curiosity amongst the people of the streets along which it pa.s.ses. The shopkeeper does not rise from the pillows on the floor of his little shop on which he is dozing; the bra.s.s-worker or silversmith will scarcely lift up his eyes from his work; the women will hardly come even to their house-door to look; the little boys busy playing marbles down some side street are too much absorbed in their game to run and see the show. This is a curious contrast to the rapidity with which a crowd will gather on the smallest provocation in a European city. Even a hea.r.s.e, standing at a house-door in England, will draw a very respectable crowd, merely in order to see the door open and the coffin brought out. A funeral procession in India is of much greater possible interest, because most Hindus are carried to the place of burning, or burial, as the case may be, on a flat bamboo litter with the face visible, so that you have the opportunity of recognising, or not, the face of a friend in the pa.s.sing corpse. Yet few use the opportunity, and the sight does not appear to excite the slightest curiosity.

n.o.body bestows any tokens of respect on the funeral procession, and scarcely anybody gives it even a pa.s.sing glance. This does not apparently arise from superst.i.tious shrinking from the sight of a corpse.

Military display does not impress the ordinary Indian. When a governor drives in state to hold a levee he is attended by a brilliant retinue, and the Indian soldiers who form the chief part of his bodyguard are picked men, looking magnificent in their superb uniform. This imposing display is meant presumably to impress the native mind with the dignity and authority of the representative of the ruling monarch. But in reality it does not excite admiration, or interest, or any other sentiment. The glittering cavalcade, which would bring out half London to see it if only they had the opportunity, pa.s.ses on its way, and the chance pa.s.sers-by hardly pause to look at it. This is not out of disrespect to the powers that be, but merely because they see nothing to interest or admire. The small body of the disaffected, of course, look upon military display as part of the arrogance of the conqueror towards his subjects. The mult.i.tudes who thronged the streets of the great cities which the King visited, came together because they wanted to see the King himself, and they would have been just as pleased, and perhaps even more so, if he had ridden through the streets in solitary majesty without any retinue. Some natives complained that amongst the many English officers in gorgeous uniform it was not always possible to distinguish for certain which was the King.

Not unfrequently large bodies of troops come past the Mission compound in Yerandawana village on their way to the hilly country beyond, which provides an ideal area for military tactics. The boys of the Mission, through education and drill, and contact with Englishmen, are filled with military ardour, and are worked up to a pitch of intense excitement by the sight of guns, and mules, and baggage-waggons, and marching soldiers, and they spend every spare minute by the roadside.

But to the Hindu villagers it means nothing at all. Perhaps one or two of the village boys who are attending the day-school will catch a spark of enthusiasm from the Christian boys, and will join them by the roadside; but the majority of the villagers will hardly turn their heads, much less walk ten yards, to see the sight. Religious processions to some sacred place or shrine are sometimes impressive from the enormous number of pilgrims taking part in them. One day a large procession of Hindus from a neighbouring village, on their way to the temple at Yerandawana, pa.s.sed alongside the Mission compound.

They had with them a G.o.d, which they were carrying in a palanquin.

One or two boys, seeing me standing at the church door, called out to know whether I had any pictures to give away. I invited them instead to come and see the church, and several boys left following the palanquin and came towards me. The crowd seeing this, and moved with curiosity, did the same, and in a few minutes the greater part of the procession was diverted into the church. The result of this was the unusual sight of the church crammed to the doors with eager Hindus in holiday attire, and it gave an idea of what will be its aspect on some great festival, after the conversion of the village has become an accomplished fact.

The situation, however, soon became embarra.s.sing. The Hindus appeared rather pleased with their surroundings. Some of them had got with them the heavy bra.s.s cymbals which they clash as a musical accompaniment in their religious processions. They began to sound their cymbals and to dance in the slow, sedate way, which they do in their temples on festal occasions, or when having an outdoor procession. Meanwhile the directors of the ceremonies had grasped the situation, and setting down the palanquin hurried into church, and expressing their indignation by words and blows, endeavoured to drive out the crowd.

But as the church has nineteen large double doors this was no easy matter, because as fast as they were driven out at one door they came in at another. At length the church was cleared, and the much disorganised procession went on its way. On its return, after an hour or so, a good many Hindus again visited the church, in order to get a better view of it than they had been able to secure amidst the crowd.

The sight of the people, solemnly dancing and clashing their cymbals in the church, set one thinking as to the difficulties and problems which the conversion of the villagers will give rise to. It is purgatory to an Indian to sit still for any length of time. Outdoor preachers have to adapt themselves to a congregation which is continually changing. Very few can keep their attention for ten minutes. An ordinary Evensong, with little variety of posture, is a dreary exercise for a Hindu, and if he comes he seldom sits it out to the end. The Christian Indian gets accustomed to it and learns to appreciate it, but he rejoices in a procession, or in any ceremonial which involves motion. If the solemn dance and clashing of cymbals during the Magnificat could be allowed, the rustic Indian would enjoy Evensong.

Father Benson, in his "War-Songs of the Prince of Peace," thus happily translates the fourth verse of Psalm 150--"Praise Him with timbrels tost in timely dance." And that is what the Christian Indian would delight to do.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE INDIAN CHARACTER

Erroneous notions about India. The Indian nature shallow.

The Indian as a student. Unfinished projects. Untidiness.

Waste of time. Petty vanity. Quiet obstinacy. How to govern.

Training of the Indian boy. Punishment. Patience. Rulers of the "Lawrence" school. Their success. The Declaration at Delhi. Unexpected contradictions of character.

Some of the perplexities of missionaries in India, and also probably of Civil servants in the Indian Government, arise from preconceived notions about the country and people which are either only partly true, or are altogether erroneous. It takes years of growing experiences before things gradually a.s.sume their proper proportions in the mind.

The generally accepted idea that Indians have a depth of intellect which it is almost impossible to fathom, is one of the most fruitful causes of mistakes in government, whether within the comparatively narrow limits of a Mission area, or when dealing with affairs which concern the whole country. An extensive and varied experience amongst Hindus of almost every cla.s.s and age has led to the conviction that the great depth which could not be fathomed is really a shallow, and that we should have realised that we touched bottom long ago, except that we continued to try and probe for it in a region which does not exist.

If it is true that the Indian mind is shallow, and with limited capabilities, it explains a great deal which otherwise seems perplexing. Nor will this conviction lead you to think less of the Indian. On the contrary, it makes you like him all the better, because you can appreciate his many good qualities without being disappointed because they do not yield all the fruit which might be desired.

Many instances might be given of the shallowness of the Indian's mind.

In his student days he will often slave at his books to an extent almost unparalleled in any other student world. But when he has attained the goal and secured his diploma, which is the summit of his ambition, the number of students who make any further use of the knowledge which they have acquired with so much toil is few indeed.

Or, if he has secured a post which would in due course lead on to a position of responsibility and corresponding prosperity, he will often throw up his work and sacrifice all his prospects on account of some trifling rebuke or imaginary slight.

The marks of unfinished projects to be seen all over India point to a want of depth of purpose. Interest and zeal has abated before the work is complete, or it was entered upon thoughtlessly without having counted the cost. It does not seem to cause the Indian any compunction that an undertaking was begun but never finished. Nor is the partly built house going to ruin because incomplete, or the well useless because it has not been sunk deep enough, an eyesore to him. Even his inveterate want of tidiness indicates a careless mind. Rubbish of all sorts lying around or within his house, even if it be of a most unsavoury nature, so that its presence forces itself upon attention, does not distress him.

Inveterate unpunctuality, and the general absence of a sense of responsibility concerning the value of time, is another indication of shallowness of mind. Days and weeks are allowed to drift away with nothing done, even amongst those who are supposed to be men of business. Petty vanity is also a mark of a shallow nature, and there are few heathen Indians who do not boast about attainments and possessions and exploits, and make unblushing statements which perhaps have not a vestige of truth in them. The reality of Indian affection as far as it goes, but its want of depth, has been already touched upon.

What ought to be firmness of character is apt to take the form of a vein of quiet obstinacy, which is latent in almost all Indians. With many it is not generally aggressive in character, and shows itself in matters of no great importance. It is necessary, for the sake of peace, to allow Indian servants to do certain things in their own way. You explain how you prefer to have a thing done and you give your reasons, and the butler or gardener will apparently agree, and they will do it for a few days according to your wish; but as soon as they think that you have forgotten, they will return to their own custom.

And if you were to tell them twenty times, they would twenty times take the same course.

With Indian children a conflict of opinion is to be avoided if possible, because, even with them, if the spirit of obstinacy is aroused it may easily lead on to serious complications. An Indian lad, if he gets his back up, becomes from the most reasonable of beings the most unreasonable. Arguments and warnings are wasted upon him, and you can only leave him alone and deal with him when he has recovered.

When shallowness of nature has been recognised as being that of the average Indian, it simplifies your relations with him. You take him as he is, and enjoy the many attractive qualities which flourish, up to a certain point, in the shallow soil. It also makes it easier to govern him, supposing you have responsibilities of that nature, if you understand that you must not depend too much on certain qualities which he only possesses in a limited degree. And this is equally true whether your responsibility extends only to one or two individuals, or whether it embraces a wide area and large populations.

With the Indian boy, for instance, firmness and kindness must be judiciously blended. It is no good arguing with him in times of difficulty, or you will stir up that latent spirit of obstinacy. Rules concerning work or conduct must be clearly laid down, and deviations taken notice of at once. Almost all Indians require the stimulus of supervision to keep them up to their work. But many Indian boys are slow in learning the duties of their office, whatever it may be. They must be given time, and the same thing may have to be often patiently explained before it is digested. A word of commendation for good work or conduct may be dropped now and then, but not too often, or it will be taken as an indication that a less amount of exertion will suffice.

The question of punishment should always be very carefully thought out beforehand. But if threatened, and really earned, it is best given.

"Letting off" is looked upon as a sign of weakness, and does not stimulate grat.i.tude. Reasonable punishment, given good-temperedly, as the proper due for debt incurred, never produces ill-feeling. But the Indian boy smarts under a sense of injustice, and his case ought always to be carefully weighed, and what he has to say in his defence patiently listened to, and due deference should be shown to his special characteristics as an Eastern and not a European. Also, the infinite variety of character to be found amongst Indian boys should be taken into account. They must be dealt with, not as a flock, but as individuals.

The old Anglo-Indians of the "Lawrence" school, who were for the most part eminently Christian men, ruled India much on the same lines as if it was a large boys' school. And, when they were not hampered by undue interference from headquarters, they were on the whole signally successful, and were both beloved and feared. Unless the Indian nature changes, and that can only be with the acceptance of Christianity, and even then only up to a certain point, any attempt to govern India on different lines will be a dubious experiment. People whose nature is not very strong are often not unwilling to accept the support of a kindly, but firm hand, to guide them. And as they rarely agree amongst themselves concerning any course of action, they like to have things settled for them, provided that the decision has wisdom and common sense on its side. This of course does not apply to the little knot of discontented political agitators. But they in no way represent the att.i.tude of the people of India. The manner of the declaration of Delhi as the new capital, coming from the lips of a King of whose goodwill they were already a.s.sured, was exactly the course of procedure which most of all commends itself to the Indian mind.

There are, however, unexpected contradictions in the Indian character which baffle explanation. In spite of the almost universal moral laxity in the conversation and personal life of a Hindu, any English lady could travel in perfect safety through the length and breadth of the land, in city or in jungle, with no other attendants than her heathen Indian servants. There are also English parents who have found that an Indian boy is, from a moral point of view, a safer guardian for their young children than the average Indian woman who usually fulfils that office.

CHAPTER XXIV

RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY IN INDIA

Discussing religion with Indians. Their ill.u.s.trations from Nature. Want of applicability. Access to the King of kings.

Moral maxims for an ascetic. Misapplication of the word "religion." Observance of caste easy. Caste often broken in private. Brahmin schoolboy asking for water. The mischievous village boy.

People with missionary aspirations have hesitated to volunteer for Indian work because they felt that they were not competent to grapple with the acute intellects and subtle philosophy of Indian thinkers. It is commonly said that the acutest intellects in India are to be found amongst the Brahmins of Poona City. A tolerably wide acquaintance amongst them would lead one to say that the would-be missionary's fears are groundless. The real difficulty of controversy with Indians, so far as it may be expedient to embark in it at all, which is doubtful, is that their arguments are often so discursive, their reasoning so childish, their ill.u.s.trations so comically beside the mark, that it is scarcely possible to deal with them seriously.

They are particularly fond of ill.u.s.trations drawn from Nature, and they always regard the ill.u.s.tration as a conclusive answer to an argument. If you point out its want of applicability, they reply by at once giving another ill.u.s.tration equally inapplicable. For instance, the broad-minded modern Indian argues that all religions ultimately lead to G.o.d, and so that they are all equally good; and he gives as his ill.u.s.trative proof, that many rivers starting from a variety of sources eventually empty themselves into the sea. And he looks upon this, not merely as an ill.u.s.tration, but as a clinching argument against which nothing can be said. But if you demur he will put the case in the reverse order, and he will say that just as in Poona City there are many tanks, but the water which supplies them all comes from the great reservoir many miles away, so the various forms of religion found in different countries came originally from the same source, and are therefore identical.

A Hindu, defending the multiplicity of G.o.ds, said to me that of course there was only one Supreme Being, but that he was too great to be approached by ordinary mortals, and that it was through the lesser deities that man had access to him. To make this clear, he used the following ill.u.s.tration. He said that if a man had a grievance he could not go direct to the emperor and state his case, but he must begin by approaching the district collector, and ultimately his pet.i.tion might reach the ears of the emperor. Happily this ill.u.s.tration gave the opportunity to say that in the Kingdom of Christ the poorest outcast, or the little child, can have direct and immediate access to the King of kings, whose ears are always open to the prayers of all His people.

Moral maxims, such as they are, are often put into the same ill.u.s.trative form. The following maxims are for the guidance of an ascetic:--

"As the uncomplaining earth suffers injuries and affronts without any sign of resentment, so should the ascetic be unperturbed by any ill-treatment and indignities he may be subjected to.

"Into the serene sky ascend the glad sounds of mirth, the fierce roar of battle, the beating of drums, and the clash of swords; but it retains none of them; the ascetic in the midst of the turmoil of life should, in like manner, retain no impression of the events about him, be they joyous or mournful.