archaic phrase with such meticulous precision that my father must have
felt our study of the Bengali language had gone a bit too far and was in
danger of over-reaching itself. So the next morning, when according to
our wont our table had been placed in the south verandah, the blackboard
hung up on a nail in the wall, and everything was in readiness for our
lessons with Nilkamal Babu, we three were sent for by my father to his
room upstairs. "You need not do any more Bengali lessons," he said. Our
minds danced for very joy.

Nilkamal Babu was waiting downstairs, our books were lying open on the
table, and the idea of getting us once more to go through the
Meghnadvadha doubtless still occupied his mind. But as on one's
death-bed the various routine of daily life seems unreal, so, in a
moment, did everything, from the Pandit down to the nail on which the
blackboard was hung, become for us as empty as a mirage. Our sole
trouble was how to give this news to Nilkamal Babu with due decorum. We
did it at last with considerable restraint, while the geometrical
figures on the blackboard stared at us in wonder and the blank verse of
the Meghnadvadha looked blankly on.

Our Pandit's parting words were: "At the call of duty I may have been
sometimes harsh with you--do not keep that in remembrance. You will
learn the value of what I have taught you later on."

Indeed I have learnt that value. It was because we were taught in our
own language that our minds quickened. Learning should as far as
possible follow the process of eating. When the taste begins from the
first bite, the stomach is awakened to its function before it is loaded,
so that its digestive juices get full play. Nothing like this happens,
however, when the Bengali boy is taught in English. The first bite bids
fair to wrench loose both rows of teeth--like a veritable earthquake in
the mouth! And by the time he discovers that the morsel is not of the
genus stone, but a digestible bonbon, half his allotted span of life is
over. While one is choking and spluttering over the spelling and
grammar, the inside remains starved, and when at length the taste is
felt, the appetite has vanished. If the whole mind does not work from
the beginning its full powers remain undeveloped to the end. While all
around was the cry for English teaching, my third brother was brave
enough to keep us to our Bengali course. To him in heaven my grateful
reverence.

(12) _The Professor_