I mentioned that I met a sister of mercy at the death-bed of an American cholera patient in the hospital. I cannot neglect this opportunity to express my heartfelt gratitude to these noble women, the modern nuns of the Catholic church. I have seen them in the dens of degradation and wretchedness in the American cities, among the sick, wounded and dying soldiers on the battle-fields of the South; I have seen them in an Arabian sea-port, searching for poverty-stricken travelers, among the cholera patients and among the unfortunate inmates of the prisons of India, always performing the same angelic duty, helping the poor, tending the sick, and comforting the despondent. Of course I am no Catholic, nor is it my intention to defend the Catholic faith; but I wish to acknowledge my appreciation of and pay my respect to the noble work which the priests and nuns of that church are carrying on among the lowly and erring members of our race.
The Hindoos are the most polite and clever people I ever saw. Their manners are exquisitely fine; no rudeness, no profanity, no intemperance is to be found among them, not even among the lowest classes. As has been said already, the higher classes are exceedingly polished and cleanly; all treat their parents and old people with marked respect. I shall narrate a few incidents to illustrate this: Shortly after my arrival in Calcutta I became acquainted with the two Princes Tagore, especially the younger of them. They are titled princes, and enormously rich. They have many palaces, hundreds of secretaries, workingmen, servants, and pensioners, and, as is the custom among the Hindoos, whose families are governed according to the principles of patriarchal life, they all live together and get their support from the common property. I visited them several times, but mostly the younger prince who was at that time about forty-five years old, and a great admirer of America. Although a man of that age and rank he never talked in the presence of his elder brother until the latter had by a word or a nod signified that he was allowed to speak. A son is never allowed to talk in the presence of his father until the latter has finished. The eldest member of the family is its highest ruler, and even the Princes Tagore would never take any important steps before obtaining the consent of their aged mother.
Many prominent Hindoos and Mohammedans, some of whom were native rulers, came and visited me, before they invited me to their great fêtes. One of the frequent visitors was Dr. L. N. Maitra, a Brahmin of the highest class, and one of the most intelligent and clever men I met in India. He used to sit with me for hours, telling about the life, history and religion of the Hindoos. Having become acquainted with each other by several months’ intercourse, one day he sat a long while at my house as if absorbed in deep thought, and when he was ready to leave he asked if I would allow him to recite a Hindoo proverb in Sanskrit. In doing this he proved himself to be a fine elocutionist, and it seemed to me that I had never heard more music in prose, although I could not, of course, understand a single word of it.
DR. MAITRA READING
SANSKRIT.
I asked him for a translation, and the next day he sent me one with the assurance that he intended to apply the proverb to me. It reads thus: “Do not enter into a very intimate acquaintance with anybody; but if you do, see that your friend is not a stranger; but if he is a stranger, see to it that he is not an educated man; but if he is educated, never part from him; but if fate compels you to part from him, then try to control that which we cannot control, that is, die, for death alone can make up for the loss of such a good man.” I have told this to show not only the Hindoo’s conception of the happiness of death, but also his exquisite politeness and delicacy of feeling.
When a Hindoo wishes to pay an elderly man or woman his respect or in some manner honor them, he calls them father or mother, or, if they are his equals in age, brother or sister. Even to-day, when my former clerks write to me they call me father, and ask me to remember them to their dear mother, that is, my wife.
MY CHIEF CLERK.
On a few occasions some Hindoo princes and nobles would arrange special entertainments and fêtes for me, or rather in honor of the country represented by me, and on such occasions the invitation was not limited to me, but was extended to my friends also, so that I could take with me of these as many as I pleased.