The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1874-11-28 00:00:00

THE STORY OF A HINDOO LAD.

The Special Correspondent of The Timet, writing from
Calcutta, rives the following interesting story of a poor flindoo
lad, who, by his own exertions had risen from humble life to
the Judicial Bench :
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I heard a pretty story the other day, circumstantially
told, and if it is not circumstantially correct it ought
to be 130. It certainly is true generally, and it presents
a picture of one beautiful trait of Hindoo character—
the Ilindoo's attachment to his earliest home. You
have often told stories of English lade, and how they
made their way to honour and usefulness against all
odds, from Dick Whittington downwards. Here is a
story of a liinduo lad—as brave a lad as ever stepped—
the late Mr. Justice Mitter, Judge of the High Court.
He was born in a little Hindoo village, and of parentage
that the old story-tellers would have termed poor, but
honest. He received his education I know not where, but
he came to Calcutta, an many a young man has gone
to London, to carve his way to fortune; only in his
11 case there was contention against a dominant race. He
I held his own, however, through all reverses, through
I good report and evil report, till the time came when
the poor Hindoo lad became a Judge of the High
Court ! Perhaps this may help to correct some of the
prevalent silliness., about Bengal shallowness. He
worked splendidly, subdued self, sat in modest dignity
(I speak from knowledge, for I have seen him) on the
Bench of the High Court, deciding intricate caw, as •
Judge and a gentleman. At last he was seized with a
fatal disease. He asked to be tsken to aSanitarium, and
he was obeyed. Time went on, but he only became worse.
It was death, the doctors mournfully said. Then he
had but one request. He had sat on the Judicial
Bench, had been a marked man at the Levees and
' Drawing Rooms, at public gathering. for institutions
' which sought distinguished names. Englishmen of
the first distinction—notably Sir Barnes Peacock—did
themselves an honour which will not soon be effaced
from the minds of the people of Calcutta by making
the "native Judge" their friend. Now, then, had
come the grand issue of all, and the dying Judge
begged to be taken to the village, and, I suppose, the
house, in which he was born. In this way the two ends
of life came together—simply as in the play of children,
and grandly as in the truly heroic stories of mankind.
There, where the trees which he had loved in child-
hood waved before his eyes, the pure and noble
Judge died. There is a kind of absurd belief that to
say "native Judge" is to imply disrespect. I utterly
discard the absurdity. This was • " native Judge"
of true manhood, gentle in manners, resolute in will,
considerate in all things. He lived to make his coun-
trymen proud of the Hindoo name, and he died in a
path of duty which India, if it is wise, will not
readily ,forget. There was no show or glitter in the
last act of the drama. It was simply that he came
"to die at home at last." I could not, of course, give
you many such instances as this in such high stations,
hut I could give you many in the lowlier. The poor
If indoo when he feels his last momenta coming to an
end tries his best to crawl to " home," to the muddy
tank, the grove of cocoanuts or bamboos, and to the
family gatherings at eventide wkich few Hindooe ever
forget go where they may.