CHAPTER III.

FIRST VIEWS OF CHRISTIANITY.--PREJUDICES.--SERMON ON THE MOUNT.--NEW TESTAMENT.--EFFORTS AND STRUGGLES.--COMPARISON OF HINDOO AND CHRISTIAN DOCTRINES.--CONVERSION.--FIRST ZEAL.--PERPLEXED BY THE TRINITY.--VISIT TO A MISSIONARY.--TRINITARIANISM.--MY DIFFICULTIES.--DEISTICAL COMPANIONS.--ARRIVAL OF MR. DALL.

Now begins an important stage in my life. The dawn of a bright future breaks upon me with a serenity never before dreamed of. My Heavenly Father, not willing that his child should go away from him and remain ignorant of his gracious majesty, turned my course slowly toward his infinite goodness. He could no longer suffer his child to prostrate himself before “wood and stone,” and He sent His “Beloved Son” to teach him and bring him to his “Father’s Home.” While much occupied in observing the religious ordinances of my people, while summoning all my energies for the cause of the idols, and offering all the treasures of my heart and head at their feet, I heard of the celebrated Christian Missionary, Rev. Dr. Duff of Calcutta, and his colleagues, making converts of the Hindoo boys. My animosity towards Christianity rose with all its fury, and I wished to see it die out, that it might not rob the peace and prosperity of the Hindoo families, by stealing away the young boys and leading them headlong into vice, immorality, and misery. For the Hindoo’s impression of Christianity is this: That in order to become a Christian it is essentially necessary that a young man should treat his parents unkindly, eat animal food, such as beef, pork, ham, etc., which the Hindoos detest very much, drink wine, not wash his mouth after the meal, as the animals do, and forsake all things which bear the name of Hindoo, no matter how beautiful they are. Now, if these are the essential features of Christianity, why should I have wondered that the Hindoos fear it? But thanks be to God that _these are not_ parts of the religion of Christ; these have little or nothing to do with it. Again, the Hindoo hatred towards Christianity arises from another important cause; viz., that the lives of most of its nominal advocates contradict its spirit. No nation is so furious, proud, bloodthirsty as a Christian one. No country, I presume, is flooded so often with human blood, as that which is studded with “meeting-houses,” which publish the Gospel of Peace by myriads, annually, of different editions, versions, and illustrations. The gentlemen, the senators of Christian countries, impelled by animal passions, fight duels, and thereby abuse the precious gift of God, the life. These are the men who declare themselves disciples of Christ, who own pews in the church, whose wives and daughters are Sunday-school teachers. “But whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also,” is a precept of their Teacher. My dear mother would point me out the ambitious deeds of the English people, saying, “There, Joguth, do not you speak of the religion of Shahebs to me; put it on the shelf yonder; they have no religion at all! What! what did you say, ‘And if any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also!’ Very beautiful words, indeed! O Joguth, what do the Shahebs do? Do they care a fig for them? No! Their religion is ‘to rob those who have nothing to do with them.’ Poor Runjit Serigh, the Queen of Nagpoor! I pity them; they fell victims to the ambition of your Christian Shahebs. How I should like to see their Queen, and tell her, ‘Shame to your subjects! They fight, they quarrel, they rob our country. You do not know what they do out of your sight. When they go abroad they forget the instruction of home,’” etc.

Having had a fear, and hatred, too, towards Christianity, I determined to investigate its true peculiarities,--which I felt quite sure must be childish and fallacious,--that I might be qualified to argue with the Christians and triumphantly expose their errors. Some Christian books were necessary, but how should I get them? I was too timid to go to the missionaries; first, I could not speak English; and, secondly, I feared them to be the “boy thieves,” as the Hindoos designate them. On a holiday I saw low castes carrying home a quantity of “_Tracts_” given to them by the servants of Christ. I managed to secure a copy which contained that portion of Christ’s teaching known by the name of the “Sermon on the Mount.” Need I tell to a Christian reader the sublime beauty of these words of _Life_? I should say, however, that I was quite disappointed in not finding fallacious, weak, foolish doctrines in it as I anticipated. Its pages opened heaven before me, and I could see distinctly its joys, its angels, and its blessedness. I could see also the _earth_, not like one around us, in which the life and its attendant functions have been manufactured by our own hands, but one fresh from the hand of the Most High,--a pure, simple, loving world! Over and over I read the tract, and wished to get some more. A few tracts which I subsequently received contained a great deal of the teaching of men, and less of His who had studied his theology in the bosom of the Father, and who said, “My words are not my own; what I have heard of my Father, that speak I to you.”

Reading the first tract, containing the “Sermon on the Mount,” carefully, I became so familiar with Christ’s voice, that I could recognize him from out the crowd. “Sheep know the voice of their shepherd,” he says. I was told that a book called “Holy Bible” contains the life of Jesus in full, and I longed to have a copy of it. As there was no Bible in the house, I had some difficulty in procuring a copy for some time. Providentially a Brahmun boy had brought some pamphlets and a book to me, and begged me to make some kites for him with their leaves. To my unspeakable joy the book proved to be the long-sought one,--the life of Christ, by four evangelists,--the New Testament! I made some kites with my own writing-paper, and the lad gave me his blue book in turn. Now begins a period of investigation, study, contemplation, of the teaching of Christ. Among others, his kind words, inviting the poor, the suffering, the despised, to come unto him,--“Come unto me all ye that labor, and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest,”--struck me very much. I was the worshipper of several male and female deities, and some of them were my beloved ones; but none called me in such a loving, affectionate way. His saying, “Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly of heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls; for my yoke is easy, and my burden is light,” furnished me with ample materials for meditation. Who is this, I asked, that promises us “_rest_,” without demanding any compensation, as the Hindoo gods do? Carefully I followed Christ in all his walks, listened to him while he was on the mountain, saw him cure sickness and cast out devils, heard him bid the rough sea “be still,” watched him at his table in the upper chamber, witnessed his arrest, trial, and crucifixion, and his victory over death. With a view of comparing Christianity with the modern Hindooism I took some leading points of each. First, the Creator of the universe, who is he? what relation is there between him and his creatures? where can he be found, and how worshipped? etc. The belief of the Hindoos in regard to these subjects differs in accordance with their caste, culture, and opportunities. The learned Brahmuns derive their belief from the Sacred Vedas; others from tradition; and the low castes have no knowledge of them, perhaps, or the little they have is ridiculous. Christ tells us our Creator is a Great Being,--God,--and that he is One. I received the doctrine, as it confirmed beautifully my impression of a Creator. I had this consciousness from my early years, but did not know who that Being was, for Bromho is said to be the Maker of all, but he too rises from the Bishto. Leaving aside the speculative theory of my country, I found relief in the simple yet truthful words of Christ.

The Hindoos bear different relations to their gods. This seemed to me absurd. For instance, Shiba is called “_Father_,” his wife Doorga, mother, his two daughters are our mother too, who, according to the common rules, ought to be our sisters. Krishto is addressed by the term _Father_ also. Now the great Teacher says we have only one Father in heaven, even God. When I learned of Christ that my Creator is _one_ great Being, and though his majesty is infinite, his wisdom unfathomable, his power unbounded, his position high, he is our Father still, my joy knew no bounds. I became aware that my recognition of a creator in the Bromho, Bishto, etc., was just as bewildering as to seek an object in the gloomy chambers of Mammoth Cave. But Christ stood by my side as a blazing light, and pointed out the shortest, easiest way to my God, saying, “I am the light” and “I am the way.” I used to think we could come to God through different routes, but now felt convinced of the great advantage of entering in by the strait gate, treading the steps of Christ, and following the guidance of the celestial Guide. When I want to visit the city of New York, the prudent course will be to take the express train at the Worcester Depot, and not step into the Boston, Concord, and Montreal cars which will surely take me far, far away from my destination; it will cost more money and longer time into the bargain![30]

Where our Creator is to be found and how worshipped became the subject of my inquiry. Hindoo gods have their respective heavens, some particular places for their abodes, which they do not wish to be away from. Thus Krishto reigns in his Goluck, Shiba in Koylas, etc. The latter is said to have wept on leaving Kashie for a season at the solicitation of Debodass, a worshipper.

But turning to Christ, I heard him say, our Father is everywhere,--fills immensity with his presence; that there is no place so high, so happy as to monopolize his presence, to confine him within its enclosure; there is no place, on the other hand, so low that does not contain him. The Mighty Omnipresent sits on high, the great King of all, controlling the affairs of the universe with his powerful, yet loving sway,--receiving homage from the Seraphim and Cherubim, and the “just made perfect;” yet, at the same time, noticing the fall of the sparrows.

In regard to worship, I was taught to worship the images of the gods, to offer food and clothing to them, and occasionally to visit the sacred cities, such as Orissa,[31] or Benares, etc. But Christ taught me otherwise. He says, “neither this mountain, nor Jerusalem,” is to be the favored place for worshipping God; “Worship him in the Spirit, for he is a Spirit.” This seemed to me a beautiful idea, for it enables high as well as low to worship the Creator,--to hold communion with him,--to lay before him all their joys, sorrows, and disappointments, instead of going after him in Jerusalem or Benares. Again, what a great consolation it is to know that a pure and contrite heart, with all its poverty and meekness, is more acceptable to God than the richest offering, than temples of gold! How many thousands of the Hindoos live and die in despair of that degree of spiritual perfection, that peculiar blessing of the gods, which a few hundred dollars would have secured for them! The poor man, notwithstanding all his righteousness, the purity of his heart, and his love for holy things, is not entitled to share the joys of heaven with the rich wicked man, who has spent enormous sums of money in visiting temples, in pilgrimages, or in worshipping costly images. This is the absurd belief I had in regard to the worship of the gods, and I thanked God heartily when I got rid of it. Secondly, I wished to know about _man_: my relation and duties towards other men, etc. The theory that man is our brother, being the child of a common Father, has been falsified by the system of the _castes_, and by the power and sanctity of the priesthood. A low-caste man is no more a brother to a Brahmun than are the inferior animals. If a shoemaker accidentally should touch the plate of a Brahmun, he would not use its contents; it is as if a dog should touch it. I know that in this world we must have, of necessity, differences in position, culture, accomplishments, etc., that one demands respect of another; but do we stand high or low agreeably to our caste, wealth, intelligence, before Him who is “no respecter of persons”? When a Brahmun, I felt it was my duty--making a right use of my position and its attendant prerogatives--to look at the low castes with indifference. I did not touch them if I could possibly help it. I put my foot on their prostrate heads, I gave the dust of my foot to them to eat, and I promised them earthly and heavenly blessings. But the moment I learned from the lips of Jesus what my relation is to my fellow-man, and what duty I owe towards him, I clearly saw the low castes are just as high as myself. Hearing that “God maketh his sun to rise on the good and evil,” that the harlots, the despised, would enter into blessedness before the proud Pharisee, I cheerfully abdicated the honors, the prerogatives of my high position as a Brahmun, and wished to jump down upon the level where the despised low castes stood. Indeed, who but God knows the magnitude of the delight I enjoyed in standing by the side of the low castes! While in the street I would walk close to them, and thereby get an opportunity to touch them. Of course the grown-up low castes would not come in close contact with me, fearing it would be a dangerous thing for them. So I used to hide my sacred or priestly badge under my clothes, which, if kept in its proper place would have testified of my caste, and to speak kind words to the despised sons of humanity.

After reading the life of Christ carefully, I came to the following conclusions:--That our Creator is one God, who is not only the highest, greatest, and most powerful of all, but at the same time a Father,--a loving Father, with a heart more tender than that of any earthly friends. Indeed, I love to dwell upon this latter conception of God always. In hours of joy or in hours of sorrow I seem to forget that he is a Lord, and I lean against his bosom with filial confidence. I had to _fear_ the gods of my fathers, but when I sat at the feet of the Divine Wisdom which presented to me one God, a Father, I wished to _love_ him.

Secondly, that man is my brother, no matter whatever be his caste, creed, color, or country, because the same Father has given us life; we are alike the recipients of his blessing, and have equal claims upon his unbounded love. I learned that the best and truest way to love God is to love man; for what kind of love is that, if I bear it toward a father, and hate his children whom he dearly loves?

Thirdly, that man is a free moral agent, subject, however, to the moral laws of his Maker, the ultimate end of whose whole counsel is the welfare of his children. It came to me that when we love each other, live in peace, “bear each other’s burden,” and guide each other in the path of righteousness, we are “co-workers with God;” and when we do otherwise we bring misery and wretchedness upon ourselves, for which we suffer and stand responsible to God. Although I had believed in a future life long before I came to Christ, yet I did not possess a rational idea of it,--it was wrapped up with a garment of mystery. The worshippers of Shiba will be received in his Koylas,--those of Krishto in his Goluck, etc., where they will breathe the breezes of different Paradises. I often thought these must be narrow heavens indeed that do not admit all. Again, how could the joys of heaven be perfect if we do not meet with those dearest relations who died a long time ago, and the objects of our love and affection taken away from us at different times? My mother worships Krishto, and Shiba was my god, so of course we both will be received by our respective gods. Would not the pangs of separation attend us wherever we go? and even, taking for granted that we are to see each other occasionally, it must be something like visiting! But the future state which Christ promises us is where not only our kindred might be admitted, but where those from east and west, north and south would “meet to part no more.” “In my Father’s house are many mansions,” he says, which “he goes to prepare for us.” What a blessed hope it is for one who loves all the children of God, and likes to see them, to live with them, and pray with them! In regard to Christ, my impression became that he is the _Sent_ of God, his “beloved Son” indeed. He was raised especially by our Father to regenerate the world, to proclaim peace and good will unto men,--to bring the wanderers back, to uplift degraded humanity, and break the sting of death, and “bring Immortality to light.” He was a true model of Humanity,--a perfect man. He was what man ought to be. Whatever attributes of the Most High could be grasped by a finite nature were fully given to him; so it is no wonder when we call him Immanuel or the “express image of God.” We are all made in the image of God; but it is a pity that we do not long stand in the state of purity, do not retain our original stamp; the world paints us over, and thereby disfigures us. But the plane where Christ stood was very high,--far beyond the reach of the world; so that while on earth, he lived and moved with celestial graces, and enjoyed sweet communion with his God always, and died as a resigned Son indeed. He was entirely different from all other religious teachers who have ever blessed the earth with their instructions. There was one peculiarity in him which had not attained its perfection in other religious teachers. Whatever this divine Teacher taught he exhibited in his own life, showing thereby to the world the practicability of his doctrines. A geographer informs us of the position and the height of a mountain, the rise, course, and fall of a river, and draws a map for illustration, that he may convey the truth distinctly unto us. In like manner Christ performed his mission. He teaches us humility,--behold the Saviour of the world washes the feet of the low castes of Judea! He speaks love,--lo! he breathes love from the cross, when the cruel and wicked sons of man were driving nails through his innocent limbs! “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do!”

Desiring to be profited by Christ and to throw off the burden of superstition, and to put on the yoke of Christ instead, I secretly yielded to the longing for a new life. The old habits, religious ordinances, the once beloved idols, seemed dry, unimportant things. I could no longer hide myself within the “veil of taciturnity.” Now and then I dared to speak to my friends new things, to breathe unto them new affections, and to surprise them with new deeds. I would detail as well as I can remember the trials, misunderstandings, and ridicule that crowned my brow subsequently. The life of Christ proved so sweet to me that I felt quite sure others would like it, so in the afternoon I would go to some friend to read from it. Some liked it as a story; others felt quite amused hearing of the miracles of Christ, as they see most of them attempted by their countrymen, and their legendary books too abound with such things. Even the raising of Lazarus from the grave and the resurrection of Christ did not surprise them because there was no novelty in them. I must confess, however, the miracles of Christ did not strike me very much. Having witnessed some like them done before me, and having read of such in our religious books, I did not “seek after a sign,” but perceived wonderful miracles performed by Jesus spiritually in my own case. These very hands of mine which did not touch the low caste before, now stretched forth to embrace them. Having eyes, I could not before see my path clearly; but Jesus made and put clay on them, and told me to wash them in the pool of the Gospel, which I did, and now I begin to see. I was deaf to the cry of duty; but the gentle voice of the Teacher entered in, and I now hear it without prejudice. I was possessed with “_devils_,”--the “_legions_,” for they were many,--such as caste feeling, hatred towards low castes, prejudices, etc.; but they all fled before the divine presence of Christ, saying, “What have we to do with thee, thou Son of God.” Thus I cared more for these spiritual miracles which helped me to begin a new life and understand the worth of Jesus and his mission more vividly than anything else could have done. I am aware that Christ himself appealed to his miracles to prove to the Jews the divine sanction of his mission. “If ye believe not me, believe my works.” But it was to the simple yet weak-minded people that he spoke in that way. To some he refused any miracle,--declined to do anything surprising, but spake with authority as no man did before. I do not disbelieve the miracles performed by Christ, as he says whatever he does he does by the power of God, to whom everything is possible; as our poets say, that “He can cause a pigmy to reach the moon, and a lame man to jump over a mountain.” So is the belief with almost all of the intelligent Hindoos.

The Raja Rammohun Roy, too, cared more for “the precepts of Jesus” than for his miracles. In his compilation of the words of Christ, he begins with his words in the Sermon on the Mount, I think. He wanted to have his countrymen know and value and follow what Christ said, more emphatically, than rest upon what he did miraculously. Therefore, believing as I did, in the miracles of Jesus, and knowing what would be the feeling of my friends, I did not hold them as the foremost part of Christianity, but presented to them the wise yet intelligible, the rich yet simple, counsels of our Master.

While I was proceeding in this way to read and speak from the New Testament, some Hindoo friends rose against me and reported to the village and to my mother that I was soon going to be a “_Beef-eater_” or Christian. This, of course, alarmed my mother exceedingly, and she aroused all her energies to save me from the impending ruin. Where shall I hide the New Testament? was the anxious question that troubled me. She herself cannot read, so that was some relief on that score. But the boys would come in my absence and take any Christian book from my room and show it to my mother, making her miserable thereby. Her fear of losing me grew so great, and also of the disgrace that would surely fall upon the family in case I became an apostate, or, worse than that, a “beef-eater,” that I had to feel anxious about my other books while away, lest she should throw them all into the water. Being acquainted with Rev. Mr. Dall, who kindly gave me Unitarian tracts, I found great relief afterwards, because the tracts being small, not handsomely bound, and not having the “Holy Bible” written on them, my mother did not care about them. A large book, handsomely bound, often creates suspicion among the Hindoos, especially if the bearer be known to be an Anti-Hindoo in the least. Once I was coming home with a large volume of the Bengalee translation of “Lamb’s Tales of Shakespeare,” which I had borrowed from a rich Brahmun friend in a neighboring town. Some men, pretending to hold a friendly talk with me, made me stop. One said, “You have read a great many books, I presume more than G----, P----, and M----, etc., have done. That’s a pretty large book in your hand; did you get it from a Missionary?” I gave the book to the speaker, who curiously opened it and read, “Romeo and Juliet,” “Tempest,” “Macbeth,” &c., as its contents.

Christ says the tree will be known by its fruits. And again, if ye love one another the people will know that ye belong to Christ. Seeing our Master visit frequently the low, the despised, and the publicans in their humble homes, my affection turned toward the publicans in India. An angelic love hitherto unknown, which is “not a respecter of persons,” sat in my eyes, and before them all the castes of the Hindoos, from the Brahmun down to the hog-keeper, looked alike. I could no longer accept their salutation without returning the same, and this brought upon me the indignation of the Brahmuns and the terror of other castes. With much fervor and perhaps with less prudence, I went to the extreme at first, in returning the low caste the very _kind_ of salutation he made; thus, when he bent his head to me I did likewise to him; when he touched my foot, I wished to do the same. Of course this was too much condescension on my part, which my friends could not bear for a moment. They feared that my teaching them that way would offend the gods, and consequently that something dangerous would happen to them from their wrath! In order to make the matter sure and expose me to the public hatred, some Brahmun boys would engage a low caste to salute me reverently,--to take the dust of my feet and see what I