# The Spoilt Child/Chapter 14

CHAPTER XIV. The False Charge.
Boys who are at all wild are not to be satisfied with ordinary amusements: they constantly require new and fresh sources of pleasure, and if they do not find what they want abroad, they will return and sit in melancholy brooding at home. Those that have uncles at home perhaps recover their lost spirits, for they can chaff and joke with them to their heart's content: they will at least go so far as to jest about making arrangements for their last journey to the Ganges, on the ground that they are a burden to the family. But when such is not the case, they are bored to death, and regard the world with the eyes of a man who is sick of life[28]. Passionately devoted as they were to practical joking of all kinds, Matilall and his companions invented ever new pranks, and it was hard to foretell what would be their next. Their thirst for some form of amusement became more intense every day: one kind might occupy them for a day or two, but it soon palled upon them, and they suffered torments of ennui if nothing else turned up. Such was the way in which Matilall and his companions spent their days. In course of time, it became incumbent on each of them in turn to devise something new in the way of amusement.
So one day Haladhar wrapped Dolgovinda up in a quilt and, after instructing all his chums in their different parts, repaired to the house of Brojonath, the kabiraj. It was thick with smoke from the preparation of drugs: different operations were in progress: powders were ​ being prepared, made up of a number of different ingredients; essential oils were being refined, and gold ground into powder. The kabiraj himself was just on the point of leaving his house, with a box of his drugs in one hand and a bottle of oil in the other, when Haladhar arrived and said to him: "Oh, sir, please come as quick as you can: a boy is very ill of fever in the house of a zemindar, and he seems to be in a very critical state: his life and your fame, you see, are both at stake: you will get undying honour if you restore him to health again. It is thought that he may get all right by the administration of some very powerful drug: if you can succeed in curing him, you will be richly rewarded." Upon this, the kabiraj made all haste, and was soon at the bedside of the patient.
The young Babus, who were all present, called out: "Welcome, welcome, sir kabiraj, may you revive us all! Dolgovinda has been lying on his bed some fifteen days with this fever: his temperature is very high, and he suffers from terrible thirst: he gets no sleep at night, only tosses restlessly about. Please examine his pulse carefully, sir, and meanwhile refresh yourself by having a smoke." Brojonath was a very old man, without much education: he was not very skilful even at his own trade, had no opinions of his own, and could do nothing on his own responsibility. In person he was emaciated, with no teeth, a harsh voice, and a heavy grey moustache, of which he was so enamoured that he was always stroking it. He sighed as he looked at the patient's hand, and sat perfectly motionless. Haladhar then said to him: "Honoured sir, have you nothing to say?" The kabiraj without replying gazed intently on the face of the patient, who was glaring wildly about him, lolling his tongue out, and grinding his teeth. He also gave a tug at the kabiraj's moustache: and as he moved away a little, the boy rolled ​ about and straggled to get hold of the bottle of oil in his hand. The Babus then said: "Come tell us, sir, what is the matter?" The kabiraj replied: "The attack is a very severe one: there seems to be high fever and delirium. If I had only had news a little earlier, I might have managed to cure him: as it is, it would be impossible even for Shiva to do so." As he spoke, the patient got hold of his bottle of oil, and rubbed a good handful of it over his body. The kabiraj seeing the visit was likely to cost him dear[29], hurriedly took the bottle away, corked it well, and got up to go. "Where are you going, sir?" They all cried. The kabiraj replied: "The delirium is gradually increasing: I do not think there is any further necessity for keeping the patient in the house: you should now exert yourselves to make his end a happy one by taking him to the Ganges to die[30]."
As soon as he heard this, the patient jumped up, and the kabiraj started back at the sight. The young Babus of Vaidyabati ran after him, and as the kabiraj, who had gone on a short distance, stopped dumbfounded and amazed, they began to hustle him, with shouts of "Hori Bol: Hori Bol:" and one of them threw him over his shoulders, and started for the Ganges. Dolgovinda then came up to him, and said: "Aha my dear sir, you gave orders to have the patient taken to the Ganges: the doctor himself it is who is now being carried thither! I will myself perform the ceremony of putting you into the water, and of then throwing you on to the funeral pyre." The views of the fickle are ever changing, and so a little later he said: "Will you send me to the Ganges again? Go, my dear friend! go to your home, and to your children, but before you go, you must give me that bottle of oil." With these words, he snatched the bottle from the kabiraj, and all the young lunatics, smearing themselves over ​ with the oil, leaped into the Ganges. The kabiraj became as one bereft of his senses when he saw all this, and thinking that he might breathe again if he could only get away, he increased his pace. Thereupon Haladhar, as he was swimming about, screamed out: "Ho there, respected kabiraj! I am getting more and more bilious every day: you must give me some of your powders to take: do not run away: if you do, your wife will have to remove her bracelet and be a widow." The kabiraj threw down his box of drugs, and hurried home crying, "Alas! alas!"
In the month of Phalgun, as spring comes in, all the trees are coming out in new leaf, and the sweet odour of flowers is diffused around. Barada Babu's dwelling-house was on the banks of the Ganges: some little distance in front of it was his favourite garden-house, and all round it a garden. Barada Babu used to sit every evening in the garden-house, to enjoy the fresh air and his own meditations, or to converse with any friends who might visit him there. Ramlall was always with him, and was made the confidant of his most secret thoughts, whereby he obtained much good advice. At every opportunity, he would question his preceptor minutely on the means of attaining to a knowledge of the Supreme Being, and to perfect purity of mind.
One day Ramlall remarked to Barada Babu: "Sir, I have a great longing to travel: staying here, it is a constant grief to me to listen to the bad language of my elder brother and the evil counsel of Thakchacha, but my love for my parents and for my sister makes me disinclined to stir from home. I cannot decide what to do." Barada Babu replied;-- "Much benefit is to be derived from travel: breadth of vision is not to be had without it: the mind is enlarged by the sight of different countries, and different people. Much knowledge too is acquired by a minute ​ enquiry into the different customs of the people of different countries, into their habits, and the causes determining their condition, whether good or bad. Association moreover with all sorts of people, causes bitter prejudices to disappear and induces good feeling. If a man is educated only at home, his knowledge is derived from books only. Now education, association with good men, practical employment, and intercourse with all sorts of people, are all necessary to a man: it is by agencies such as this that the understanding becomes clear, and an impetus is given towards the moulding of a good character. But before he sets out on his travels, it is all important that a man should know the different matters he will require to investigate, for without this, travel will prove a mere aimless wandering about, like the circling round and round of an ox when threshing out the grain. I do not go so far as to say that no benefit is to be had from such travelling, that is not my meaning: some benefit or other there must be. But when a man on his travels is ignorant of the kind of enquiries he ought to make, and cannot make them, he does not derive the full benefit of his labour. Many Bengalees are fond of travelling about, but if you ask them for facts about the places they visit, how many of them can give you a sensible answer? This is not altogether their own fault, it is the result of their bringing-up. A good understanding is not to be had all at once from the sky, without some training in the art of observation, enquiry and reflection. In the education of children it is requisite that an opportunity should be given them of seeing models of a great variety of objects: as they look at all the pictures, they will compare one with another: that is to say, they will see that one object has a hand, another has no foot, that one has a peculiar mouth, another no tail; and by such comparison the faculties of observation and reflection will ​ be brought into play and developed. After a time such comparisons will come easy to them; they will be able to reflect on the causes for the peculiarities of different objects, and will have no difficulty in perceiving the various classes into which they naturally fall. By instruction of this kind, assiduity in research is encouraged and the faculty of reasoning exercised. But in our country an education like this is hardly ever given, and as a natural consequence, our wits are muddled and run to waste: we have no instinctive perception of the essential and unessential features of any enquiry. When a question is under consideration, many of us have not even the requisite intelligence to know what kind of enquiries should be made in order that a conclusion may be arrived at; and it is no falsehood to say that the travels of a good many people are but idle and profitless. But considering the education you have had, I should imagine that travel would be of great advantage to you."
"Now if I do go abroad" said Ramlall, "I shall have to stay for some time in places where there is society: and with what classes, and with what kinds of people, should I chiefly associate?"
"That is no easy question," Barada Babu replied: "I must contrive though to give you some kind of an answer. In every rank in life there are people good and bad: any good people you may come across you may associate with; but you know by now how to recognise such: I need not tell you again. Association with Englishmen may make a man courageous, for they worship courage, and any Englishman committing a cowardly act is not admitted into good society. But it does not at all follow that a man is therefore virtuous because he happens to be courageous. Courage is very essential to everybody, I admit; but real courage is that which is the outcome of virtue. I have ​ told you already and now tell you again, that you must always meditate on the Supreme Being, otherwise all that you see, or hear, or learn, will only have the effect of increasing your pride. One thing more: men often wish to do what they see others doing; the Bengalees especially, from association with Englishmen, have acquired a false superficial kind of Anglicism, and are filled with self-conceit in consequence; pride is the motive force in all they do. It will do you no harm to remember this."
They were conversing together in this way when suddenly some police-officers rushed in from the west side of the garden and surrounded Barada Babu. He looked at them sharply, and asked them who they were and what their business with him was. They replied: "We are officers connected with the police: there is a warrant out against you on the charge of illegal confinement and assault, and you will have to appear before the Court of the English Magistrate of Hooghly; we shall have moreover to search your premises for proofs of the charge." Ramlall rose up at these words, and when he had read the warrant, he shook with rage at the falsity of the charge, Barada Babu took his hand and made him sit down again, saying: "Do not put yourself out: let the matter be thoroughly well sifted. All sorts of strange accidents befall us on earth, but there is no need to be disturbed in mind at all when calamity comes: to be agitated in the presence of misfortune is the mark of an ignorant mind. Besides, I am conscious of my entire innocence of the crime I am accused of: what cause then have for fear? Still the order of the court must be attended to, so I shall put in an immediate appearance. Let the officers search my house, and see with their own eyes that there is no one concealed there." The police-officers having received this order, searched everywhere but found nothing. Barada ​ Babu then had a boat fetched, and made all his arrangements for his journey to Hooghly. Meanwhile by some good chance Beni Babu arrived at his house, so he set out on his journey to Hooghly, taking Beni and Ramlall with him. Both were somewhat anxious, but by his cheerful conversation on a variety of topics, he soon put them at their ease.