Professor Max Muller, in his recently-published book, "India, what can it teach us?" discusses at length the character of the Hindus. He quotes the views entertained by persons of large Indian experience, who had mixed freely with all classes, and yet differ widely in their testimony, showing that in forming an estimate of the character of a community we are greatly influenced by our temperament and by the standard we employ. Sir Thomas Munro, the famous Governor of Madras, speaks of the character and attainments of the Hindus in the most laudatory terms. He says, "If civilization is to become an article of trade between England and India, I am convinced that England will gain by the import cargo." Sir Charles Trevelyan, on the other hand, speaks of them as a morally depraved people, to whom "the phenomenon is truly astonishing" "of a race of men on whose word perfect confidence may be placed." "The natives require to be taught rectitude of conduct much more than literature and science."
The Professor is evidently inclined to take the favourable view. He thinks the ordinary view of their falsehood and dishonesty is applicable only to the rabble of the cities and the frequenters of our courts, but is most unjust to the unsophisticated people of the country, whose truthfulness he extols. After the laudation of these honest and truthful people, I must say I was amused with the naïveté of the learned Professor, when he goes on to show that the excellence of his protegés is not sufficiently strong to be maintained in the face of temptation. He says, "A man out of his village community is out of his element and under temptation. What would be called theft or robbery at home, is called a raid or conquest if directed against distant villages; and what would be falsehood or trickery in private life, is honoured by the name of policy and diplomacy if successful against strangers." The lauded truthfulness and honesty are so delicate that they cannot stand the breath of the nipping cold which has to be encountered when they leave their sheltered enclosure. The excellence is, according to the Professor, though he does not say so in words, merely conventional, as it rests on the principle of mutual insurance among those who form a closely-knitted community, bound together by common interests and associations. Even then excellence needs to be guarded by an oath, which is viewed with superstitious awe. I do not think the Professor's friends will thank him for this defence of the morality of their countrymen.
When I think of the wickedness rampant among large classes in a country like our own, notwithstanding our great privileges, I shrink from applying to the Hindus the strong terms of condemnation which I have often heard. There is among them, as I have already said, much family affection; they are, in ordinary circumstances, very courteous; they often manifest a kindly disposition; almsgiving is reckoned a high virtue; many lead quiet, orderly, industrious lives; and, as Max Muller tells us, from the earliest age satya, "truth," in its widest sense, has been represented by them as the very pillar on which goodness rests, though it must be allowed it has been much more praised than practised.
THE HINDU AND CHRISTIAN STANDARDS.
Am I then to say, as many have done, that Hinduism has done its adherents no harm, and that Christianity has done its adherents no good—that the Hindus as a people stand as high morally as we do? With every desire to speak of them as favourably as I can, with a pleasing recollection of many acts of kindness and courtesy, and with every desire to rid myself of prejudice, I must dissent strongly from this view. I cannot forget the lurid light cast on the native character during the Mutiny; the treachery, ingratitude, falsehood, and cruelty shown by many who gloried in their caste purity—relieved, however, it is only right to acknowledge, by notable instances of faithfulness and kindness. I cannot but remember the impression often made on my mind of their low standard of character, the absence of high motive, even when full expression has been given to the distinction between right and wrong. Happily, in our land there are many, in every class of society, who, as the result of faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, hate sin in every form, and strive after excellence, an excellence springing from supreme love to God, and prompting to sustained effort for the good of man, for which we look in vain among the best of Hindus, though among them we discern the workings of conscience and the desire to do what is right. The standard of character is undoubtedly far higher among us than it is among Hindus, and this standard, protesting as it does against wickedness, and calling us to aspire after goodness, is in itself an incalculable benefit to a community. For many a day it has been my settled conviction that Hindus are vastly better than, looking at their religion, we could expect to find them, and that we on the other hand fall far below the excellence to which our religion summons us. If Hinduism was allowed full sway over its adherents society would go to pieces, while we should rise to the excellence of angels if we were to come under the full sway of the Gospel.
All have heard of the caste system of India, but only those who have lived among the people can understand its innumerable ramifications and its remarkable effects. Every caste, down to the lowest, is endlessly sub-divided. There are Brahmans who would as soon eat, drink, and intermarry with people of low caste, as with many who like themselves boast of Brahmanical blood. In books the Sudras are described as the fourth, the low, servile caste; but in fact a vast number in Northern India, who are loosely reckoned Hindus, are far below the Sudras, and thus the Sudras acquire a relatively high place. These low-caste people, on whom the people above them look down with contempt, are in their own fashion as tenacious of caste as their superiors, and they, too, multiply their divisions, one class maintaining its superiority to others. We have a large community called Chumars, "leather-people" as the word means, though many of them have nothing to do with leather. One of them once told me there were twelve divisions in their caste. We had near us at Ranee Khet a little colony of Dhobees, washermen, whom I visited now and then. I observed some huts were built separate from the rest, and I asked the reason. The man to whom I was speaking, for his class an intelligent man, expressed his surprise I did not know the reason. He said, with an air of dignity, "These are of an inferior order, and it is requisite their huts should be built apart."
It has been often shown that this caste system is most baleful. It narrows the sympathies of the people, keeps them in the same groove, fetters their minds, represses individuality, and is a bar to progress. It would be unfair, however, to say that all its consequences are pernicious. It so far benefits those bound by it that it restrains them from some forms of evil, and secures mutual helpfulness, just as the close trade guilds of our own country did, of which we have happily got rid. When the clan system was in full force among the Scotch Highlanders, there were broken men, men who had left the clan or were expelled from it, and these were notorious for their crimes. In like manner there are persons who break away from caste, and are the worst members of the community.
The patriarchal system, the system so prevalent in India, by which the people, instead of forming separate families in their separate dwellings, all form one household, to a large extent with a common purse and under a common rule, is perhaps still more fitted to fetter the mind and to obstruct progress than even caste itself. Those who have embraced Christ as their Saviour have often suffered more from their own kindred, dwelling together, than from their caste brethren.
THE DISINTEGRATION OF CASTE.
Many things tend to the disintegration of caste, such as education, the subjection of all to the same laws, the growing demands of commerce, and travelling together in railway-carriages. The attractions of the railway, notwithstanding its disregard of class distinctions, are irresistible. Thousands of pilgrims thus make their way to distant shrines, though by travelling in this easy fashion they lose the merit which suffering would bring. When railways were constructed, a proposal was made by leading Hindus to have separate carriages for separate castes, but compliance with the proposal was of course out of the question; and now high Brahmans and low Chumars—who are never seen in the same temple even though they worship the same gods, as the presence of a Chumar there would be deemed a profanation—may be seen packed in the same carriage in as close contact as two human beings can be. When they separate the Brahmans have recourse to lustrations, and satisfy themselves the impurity has been washed away.