Solution Manual for Chemistry 10th Edition by Whitten ISBN

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Chemical
17 Equilibrium
17-1 (a) reversible reaction: a reaction that can occur in either direction and does not go to completion.
Such reactions reach equilibrium with significant amount of reactants and products remaining.
(b) static equilibrium: a state of balance that exists when all acting influences are canceled, so there
are no micro changes.
(c) equilibrium constant, K: a quantity that describes the position of equilibrium for a reversible
reaction. It is equal to the product of the equilibrium concentrations of the products divided by
the product of the equilibrium concentrations of the products, each raised to the power that
corresponds to its coefficient in the balanced chemical equation.
17-3 Equilibrium exists when all acting influences are canceled by others, resulting in a balanced system. In
a “static equilibrium” there are no micro changes caused by the influences. In a “dynamic equilibrium”
there are micro changes but the changes occur in such a way that the net result is that the system remains
unchanged. Chemical equilibria are dynamic equilibria; individual molecules are continually reacting,
even though the overall composition of the reaction mixture does not change.

17-5 (a) A very large value of K indicates that the reaction proceeds far toward completion (or that the
forward reaction is highly favored over the reverse reaction). The equilibrium mixture has much
higher concentrations of products than of reactants.
(b) A very small value of K indicates that the reaction proceeds only very slightly (or that the reverse
reaction is highly favored over the forward reaction). The equilibrium mixture has much higher
concentrations of reactants than of products.
17-1
 (c) A value of K of about 1 indicates that the forward and reverse reactions are about equally favored.
The equilibrium mixture contains about equal concentrations of products and reactants, if they are
raised to the same power.
17-7 At equilibrium the rates of opposing processes are equal. Putting it another way: when the rates of
opposing processes become equal, the system arrives at a state of equilibrium.

17-9 The equilibrium constant is the product of the equilibrium concentrations of the products divided by
the product of the equilibrium concentrations of reactants, each raised to the power that corresponds to
its coefficient in the balanced equation. When using the value of an equilibrium constant, it is
necessary that we also know the balanced chemical equation since the powers of the terms in the
equilibrium constant are tied to the coefficients in the balanced equation. For example, the following
two equations have different values for their equilibrium constants.

#→ [NO2]2
## 2NO2
2NO + O2 ← Kc =
[NO]2[O2]

1 #→ [NO2 ]
NO + 2 O2 ←
## NO2 Kc =
[NO] [O2 ]1/2

17-2
17-11 (a) Your sketch should be a curve that is like that of Figure 17-2(b) except your curve has 2 reactants
(the blue line) and 2 products (the red lines). After time tc, the line for D should be twice the value for
C, as they are in Figure 17-2(b) for O2 and SO2. The blue lines for A and B should also be, after time
tc, in the ratio of 3 to 1 if they started with equal concentrations.
(b) For K much less than 1, your sketch should be a curve much more like Figure 17-2(a) with the
changes suggested in answer (a) above.

17-13 (a) Balanced equation: N2 + 3H2 2NH3 Kc = =1

The statement given is false. The coefficients in the balanced equation represent the relative number
of moles of reactants that are consumed or products that are formed, They have no bearing
on the relative concentrations of the species in the equilibrium condition. If we assume [N2] = 1.0
M, [H2] = 3.0 M and [NH3] = 6.0 M, the corresponding Kc value is 1.5 instead of 1.
(b) This statement is also false. If the reaction started with only NH3 and went to equilibrium, then
[H2] is three times that of [N2], but there are many other possibilities.
(c) This statement can be true. Let x = [N2], 3x = [H2] and 2x = [NH3]

Kc = = = = =1

x = 0.385
Therefore at equilibrium, [N2] = x = 0.385M
[H2] = 3x = 1.15M
[NH3] = 2x = 0.770M

(d) This statement can be true. Kc = = =1

(e) This statement is false. The equilibrium expression is not satisfied if the concentrations of all
reactants and products are equal and have any value other than 1M.
(f) An equilibrium mixture does not require all reactants and products to have the same
concentrations. It only requires that the concentrations of the components fulfill the Kc
expression. This statement is false.

17-15 Of those species listed, the following would not be included in an equilibrium expression because they
are solids: H2O(s), NaHCO3(s), and Fe2O3(s). These would not be included because they are liquids:
H2 CH3 and NH3

17-17 (a) Kc = (b) Kc = (c) Kc =

(d) Kc = (e) Kc =

17-3
17-19 (a) Kc = (b) Kc = (c) Kc =

(d) Kc = (e) Kc =

17-21 (a) Kc = (b) Kc =

(c) Kc = (d) Kc =

17-23 (a), (b), (c) (K << 1)

[Br2][F2]5 (0.0018)(0.0090)5
17-25 Kc = = =
[BrF5]2 (0.0064)2

17-27 Kc = = 1.845

CO(g) + H2O(g) CO2(g) + H2(g)

initial 0.500 mol 0.500 mol 0 0
change -x mol -x mol +x mol +x mol
equil 0.500-x 0.500-x mol x mol x mol

Kc = 1.845 = =

= = 1.358

x = 0.288
[CO] = [H2O] = 0.500 - 0.288 =
[CO2] = [H2] = 0.000 + 0.288 =
2.0 x 10-3 mol 1.5 x 10-3 mol
17-29 [N2O4] = 10. L = 2.0 x 10-4 M [NO2] = 10. L = 1.5 x 10-4 M

[N2O4] 1.5 x 10-4

Q = [NO ]2 = = 3750 > K = 170
2 (2.0 x 10-4)2

17-4
 The system is NOT at equilibrium. The concentration of NO2 must increase to achieve equilibrium.
Thus the reverse reaction must proceed to a greater extent to increase the amount of the reactant and
to bring the reaction to equilibrium (Q = K).

17-31 2NOCl 2NO+ Cl2 (all are gases)

init 2.00 M 0M 0
change –0.66 M +0.66 M +0.33 M
equil 1.34 M 0.66 M 0,33 M

[NOCl]2
Kc = [NO]2[Cl ] = = 0.080
2

17-33 2NO + O2 2NO2 (all are gases)

init 0.0200 M 0.0300 M 0
change –2.2 x 10-3 M –1.1 x 10-3 M +2.2 x 10-3 M
equil 0.0178 M 0.0289 M 2.2 x 10-3 M

(a) [NO] = 0.0178 M (b) [O2] = 0.0289 M

[NO2]2
(c) Kc = [NO]2[O ] = = 0.53
2

17-35 Kc(reverse) = = =

17-37 For the hypothetical reaction: aA + bB cC + dD

[C]c[D]d
the reaction quotient Q is defined as Q =
[A]a[B]b . The difference between Q and K is that the

concentration values in K must be equilibrium concentrations, while those in Q may be any values,
including equilibrium ones.

17-39 The forms are the same but Q uses instantaneous concentrations, while K is valid only with
equilibrium concentrations. Q varies with changes in concentration at constant T whereas K does not.
[ClF]2 (7.3)2
17-41 Q = [Cl2][F2] = (0.5)(0.2) = 5.3 x 102 > K = 19.9

The reaction will favor the reactants so that ClF concentration will decrease and both Cl2 and F2
concentrations will increase until equilibrium is established.
[CO]2
17-43 C(graphite) + CO2(g) 2CO(g); Kc = [O ] = 3.7 x 10-23
2

Q = [O ] =
[CO]2 2
17-5
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allowed." A casual remark may very easily disturb the mind of a man
who is naturally rather dense. As a boat in the hands of an unskilful
steersman is tossed about in a storm, unable to make the shore, so a dull-
gritted man is in almost constant perplexity, seeing only chaos around
him: he can himself come to no decision on the merits of any subject.
For one thing, poor Baburam Babu was naturally rather thick-headed,
and for another, Thakchacha’s words were to him as the sacred Vedas: so
he stood stupidly gazing about like a man in a maze, and after a while
asked Thakchacha what plan he could suggest. That astute individual
replied: "Your boy, sir, is not a wicked boy: it is Barada Babu that is the
origin of all the mischief. Only get him out of the way, and the boy will
be all right. Ah, Babu Saheb! the son of a Hindu should observe all the
ordinances of his religion as a Hindu. A man has need of both good and
bad qualities if he is to engage in the business of this life: the world is
not all honest: what use would it be to me if I were the only upright man
in it?"
Men always regard with approval, as the opinion of a really great mind,
language that is in keeping with their own convictions. Thakchacha was
well aware that he had only to talk about the observance of Hindu
ceremonial, and the preservation of property, and his aim would be
accomplished; and, as a matter of fact, it was by such talk that he
achieved his end. When Baburam heard the advice Thakchacha gave, he
acquiesced at once in it, remarking: "If this is your opinion, finish the
matter off at once: I will supply you with any money you may want, but
you must work out the plan yourself."
There was a good deal of discussion of this kind about Ramlall. "Many
sages, many saws," says the proverb. Some said: "The boy is good in this
respect:" others would reply: "But not good in this." One critic
complained: "He is deficient in one important quality, which makes all
his other excellences go for nothing, just as when a speck of cow-dung
has fallen into a vessel of milk, the whole is tainted." Another retorted:
"The boy is perfect."
Thus time went on. At last it chanced that Baburam Babu’s eldest
daughter fell dangerously ill. Her parents called in a number of
physicians to see her. Matilall, needless to say, never once came near his
sister, but went about saying that a speedy death was preferable to the
life of a widow in a rich man’s house; and during the time of her illness,
he only indulged himself the more. Ramlall on the other hand was
unremitting in his attention: foregoing both food and sleep, and full of
anxious thought, he exerted himself to the utmost for the girl’s recovery.
But she did not recover, and as she was dying she put her hand on her
younger brother’s head, saying: "Ah, brother Ram! if I die, and am born
a girl in my next birth, God grant that I may have a brother like you. I
cannot tell you what you have done for me. God make you as happy as
you wish." With these words, his sister breathed her last.
 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
puffers 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.
 CHAPTER XV.
TRIAL OF BARADA BABU.
THE court of the magistrate of Hooghly was crowded. The defendants in
the different suits pending, the complainants, witnesses, prisoners,
pleaders and officers were all present. The majority were restless and
impatient, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the magistrate, but he was
not yet even in sight. Barada Babu, taking Beni Babu and Ramlall with
him, spread a blanket underneath a tree, and sat down. Some of the
clerks of the court who were near, came up to him and began to talk
significantly about coming to an arrangement, but Barada Babu refused
to pay any heed to them. Then, with the view of exciting his fears, they
observed: "The magistrate’s orders are very severe; but everything is left
to us, and we can do exactly what we think fit: it is our business to draw
up the depositions, so we can upset everything by a mere stroke of the
pen; but we must have money. An investigation will have to be made,
and this is the time it should be done: our best efforts, will be useless
when the orders in the case have once been passed." Ramlall on hearing
all this was a little alarmed, but Barada Babu replied quite fearlessly:
"Gentlemen, you must do whatever is your duty. I will never consent to
give a bribe. I am perfectly innocent and have no fears." The clerks of
the court went off to their places in high wrath.
Presently some pleaders came up and said to him: "We perceive, sir, that
you are a very respectable man, and have evidently fallen into some
trouble; but you must take care that your case is not lost for want of
proper investigation. If you wish to have witnesses prepared, we can
supply you with some on the spot: we have every facility for doing so at
a trifling expense. The magistrate will be here directly, so seize this
opportunity to do what is necessary." Barada Babu answered:
"Gentlemen, you are extremely kind; but even should I have to wear
fetters, I will wear them. I shall not be much troubled in mind at that: it
will be a disgrace, I know,— I am ready to acknowledge it as such; but I
will not walk in the way of falsehood even to save my life." "Good
heavens!" they exclaimed ironically, "here is a man belonging to the
Golden Age. Surely King Yudhishthira come to life again!" and they
went away laughing quietly to themselves.
It was now past two o’clock and still there was no sign of the magistrate:
all were looking out for him as intently as crows on a sacred ghât. Some
among them said to a Brahman astrologer who was present: "Pray sir,
calculate for us whether the magistrate will come to-day or not." The
astrologer at once replied: "Come, tell me the name of some flower."
Somebody mentioned an hibiscus. The astrologer, calculating on his
fingers, said, "No, the magistrate will not come to-day: he has business at
home." Believing the charlatan’s words implicitly, they all made
preparations to tie up their bundles of records, and got up, saying to each
other: "Ah, Ram, Ram! now we breathe freely again, let us go home and
sleep."
Thakchacha had been sitting with four others within the court enclosure,
with a bundle of papers under his arm and a cloth over his face: he was
now walking about, his eyes blinking restlessly, his beard waving in the
breeze and his head bent low. Just then Ramlall’s gaze fell on him and he
remarked to Barada Babu and Beni Babu: "See, see! Thakchacha is here!
I fancy he is at the bottom of all this, otherwise why should he turn away
his head when he saw me?" Barada Babu, raising his head, saw him and
said, "I think so too; he is looking sideways in our direction, and
moreover whenever his gaze falls on my face he turns and says
something to his companions: it seems to me that Thakchacha is our evil
genius; as the proverb has it, ‘he is the spirit in the sirish seed[31].’"
Beni Babu was never seen without a smile on his face: his pleasantry
was of great service to him in his search for information. He could not
refrain from shouting out the name of Thakchacha, but none of his
shouts were attended to. Thakchacha had drawn a paper from under his
arm and was to all appearance busily examining it: he pretended not to
hear and did not even raise his head. Thereupon Beni Babu went up to
him, and with his characteristic gesture said to him: "Hallo, what is the
matter? What has brought you here?" Thakchacha said nothing, only
examined his paper minutely; indeed he seemed to be seized with a
sudden fit of modesty. But as he must, he thought, put Beni Babu off
somehow or other without answering his question, he replied: "Ha,
Babu! The river has risen a good deal to-day, how will you get back? I
might as well ask you too why you are here, and why you keep on asking
me the same thing. I have a good deal of business on hand just now and
my time is short: I will speak with you later on: I will return directly."
With these words, Thakchacha slipped away, and was soon apparently
engrossed in some trifling conversation with his companions.
Three o’clock struck: everybody was walking about impatiently. There is
no chance of getting business promptly attended to in the Mofussil, and
people get utterly weary of hanging about the courts. They were just
breaking up when suddenly the magistrate’s carriage was heard
approaching. Shouts were at once raised: "The Saheb is coming! The
Saheb is coming!" The astrologer looked utterly crestfallen, and people
began to say to him: "Your honour’s calculations are somewhat
amazing." "Ah!" replied he, "it must be owing to something pungent that
I have eaten to-day that my calculations have been so upset." The clerks
of the court were all standing in their places, and directly the magistrate
entered they all bent their heads low to the ground and salaamed to him.
The magistrate took his seat on the bench whistling casually. His hooka
bearer brought him his hooka: he put his feet up on the table, and lying
back in his chair, pulled away contentedly, now and then drawing out his
handkerchief, which was scented with lavender-water, to mop his face.
The office of the court interpreter was crowded. Men were hard at work
writing out depositions, but as the old proverb has it: "He wins who
pays." The head clerk of the court, the sheristadar, with a shawl over his
shoulders and a fine turban on his head, took a number of records of
cases and read them out in a sing-song before the magistrate, who all the
while was glancing at a newspaper, or writing some of his own private
letters: as each case was read out he asked: "Well, what is all this about?"
The sheristadar gave him the information that suited his own wishes on
the subject, and the opinion of the sheristadar was practically the
opinion of the magistrate.
Barada Babu was standing on one side with Beni Babu and Ramlall, and
was perfectly amazed when he heard the kind of judgments that were
being delivered. Considering the depositions that had been made in his
own case, he began to think that there was very little chance of matters
turning out auspiciously for him. That the sheristadar would show him
any favour was in the highest degree improbable, but he knew the old
proverb: "Destiny is the friend of the helpless." As he thus reflected, his
case was called on for hearing. Thakchacha had been sitting inside the
court: he at once took his witnesses with him, and stood before the
magistrate, proud and confident. When the papers in the case had been
read, the sheristadar said: "My lord, this is a clear case of illegal
confinement and assault." Thakchacha thereupon ceased stroking his
moustache and glared at Barada Babu, thinking that at last his end was
achieved. In the other cases no questions had been put to the defendants
when the records had been read: they had been treated as summarily as
goats for the sacrifice; but the magistrate’s glance, as luck would have it,
falling upon Barada Babu before he passed his orders, the latter
respectfully explained to him in English, all the circumstances of the
case, saying: "I have never even seen the person who has been put
forward as having been confined and assaulted by me, nor did the police-
officers when they searched my premises find anybody there. Beni Babu
and Ramlall were with me at the time; if you will be good enough to take
their evidence, my declaration will be substantiated."
Remarking the gentlemanly appearance of Barada Babu and the good
judgment that had distinguished his language, the magistrate was anxious
to make an enquiry. Thakchacha gave many significant hints to the
sheristadar, and he for his own part, seeing the turn things were taking,
reflected that he might after all have to disgorge the rupees he had taken,
so laying aside all his fears before the magistrate, he said: "My lord,
there is really no necessity for hearing this case over again." Upon this
the magistrate pursed his lips in some perplexity and turned the matter
over in his mind, cutting his nails the while. Barada Babu seeing his
opportunity again explained to him, quietly and in detail, the real facts of
the case. As soon as the magistrate had heard him, he took the evidence
of Beni Babu and Ramlall, and the charge appearing upon their
statements to be manifestly a false one, was dismissed.
The final orders had not been passed before Thakchacha was off as hard
as he could run. Barada Babu saluted the magistrate respectfully and
went out. When the court was closed, everybody began to compliment
him: he paid little heed however to them and manifested no particular
pleasure at winning his case, but quietly got into his boat, accompanied
by Beni Babu and Ramlall.
 CHAPTER XVI.
THAKCHACHA AT HOME.
THAKCHACHA’s house was on the outskirts of the city: on either side
of it were filthy tanks, and in front the shrine of some guardian saint.
Inside the enclosure was a storehouse for grain, and ducks and fowls
were running about the yard. Rogues of every description were in the
habit of assembling at the house early every morning.
Thakchacha could assume many characters in the conduct of his
business: he could be gentle or passionate: he could laugh or frown: he
could make a parade of virtue or a show of force, with equal facility[32].
When the business of the day was over, he would take his bath and his
food, and then sit by his wife and smoke: and as he smoked the tobacco
would gurgle and hiss in its well-chased bowl of Bidri ware. Their
conversation was generally on their mutual joys and sorrows.
Thakchacha’s wife was held in great repute amongst the women of the
district. They were firmly convinced that she was well versed in religious
ritual and incantations, in the art of making bad qualities good, in
mesmerising, in causing even death or timely disappearances, in magic
and sorcery, and in fact in every variety of the black art. For this reason
women of all classes of life came constantly to her to hold secret
converse. An old proverb has it: "As the god, so the goddess," and
Thakchacha and his wife were a well-matched pair: the husband got his
living by his wits, and the wife by her reputed learning.
A woman who earns her own living is apt to become somewhat
imperious, and her husband rarely receives from her unfeigned respect
and attention. Thakchacha had consequently to put up occasionally with
his wife’s reproaches. She was now sitting upon a low cane stool, saying
to her husband: "You are always roaming about everywhere but at home.
What good does it all do to me or the children? You are always saying
that you have such a lot of business on hand; is our hunger appeased by
such talk as that? Now it is the desire of my heart to dress well and to
mix in the society of women of good position, but I never get a glimpse
of any money. You go wandering about like a lunatic; do remain quietly
at home for a change." Thakchacha replied somewhat testily: "How can I
possibly tell you all the trouble I have had to undergo. Look at my great
anxieties, look at all the artifices, intrigues and trickery I have to employ:
I have no language to express it all. Then just as the game is on the point
of falling into my hands, off it flies again. Never mind, sooner or later it
will be caught." Just at this moment, a servant came to tell them that a
messenger was arrived from Baburam Babu’s house to summon
Thakchacha, who thereupon looked at his wife and said: "You see, the
Babu is continually sending for me: he will do nothing without
consulting me. I will strike when the hour is come."
Baburam Babu was seated in his reception-hall: with him were
Bancharam Babu of Outer Simla, Beni Babu of Bally, and Becharam
Babu of Bow Bazar: they were all chatting hard. Thakchacha sat down
among them as a monkey chief might sit amidst his subjects. Baburam at
once greeted him: "Ha, Thakchacha, your arrival is most opportune: my
difficulties are as great as ever: I am more involved than ever in these
law-suits. Come and tell me some way of preserving my property."
Thakchacha.— Litigation is natural to a man who is a man. Your
misfortunes will all be at an end when your cases are won: why then
should you feel alarmed?
Becharam.— Mercy! what advice is this you are giving? Baburam Babu
will be completely ruined by your instrumentality: of that there is not the
slightest doubt. What do you say, Beni, my dear friend?
Beni.— Some portions of the estate should be sold, I think, to clear off
the debts, and some arrangements made for reducing the expenditure: the
suits-at-law also should be looked into and cleared off. But our words are
wasted, like one crying in a bamboo jungle. Thakchacha’s are the only
words attended to.
Thakchacha.— I pledge my word of honour that all the suits that have
been instituted at my instigation will be gained: I will clear all the
difficulties away. Fighting is one of the necessities of man’s existence:
what cause then is there for alarm?
Becharam.— Ah, Thakchacha, how grand is the heroism you have
always exhibited! What a magnificent display of courage you made
when the boat was swamped! Why it was all on your account that we
suffered so on the occasion of the marriage. You displayed great bravery,
I must say, in getting up that false charge against Barada Babu. Not one
of the affairs of Baburam Babu in which you have meddled but has
turned out most prosperously! All hail to you: I humbly salute you! But
ugh! my gorge rises at the mere recollection of you and all your works!
what more can I say to you? Come, friend Beni, get up and come away:
it is no pleasure to me to sit here any longer.
 CHAPTER XVII.
BABURAM’S SECOND MARRIAGE.
THERE had been heavy rain in the night: the roads and ghâts was all
muddy and wet: the sky was still overcast, and there were occasional
distant rumblings of thunder: frogs croaked everywhere in loud chorus.
The shopkeepers in the bazaar had opened out their awnings, and were
now engaged in smoking. Owing to the rainy weather very few people
were moving about: only a few gariwans passed along the road, singing
at the top of their voices, and some coolies bearing loads on their heads,
absorbed in their favourite melody, of which the refrain ran:—
"Oh yes, my darling Bisakha!"
"Your friend’s just off to Mathura."

A number of barbers lived on the west side of the Vaidyabati Bazar. One
of them was sitting in his verandah on account of the rain, and as he sat
there, every now and then looking up at the sky or humming softly to
himself, his wife brought her infant child to him and said, "I have not yet
got through all my house work: just nurse this child for me a bit! the pots
and pans have not yet been scoured, and the floor has not been rubbed
down with cow-dung; and besides, I have a lot of cooking to do. I am the
only woman in the house: how can I possibly do all this myself? — have
I four hands or four feet?"
The barber straightway tucked his shaving instruments under his arm and
got up to go, saying, "I have no time just now to nurse the child.
Baburam Babu is to be married to-morrow: I must be off at once." His
wife started back, saying: "Good heavens! what next? what, that fat
unwieldy old man going to marry again! Alas, alas! And such an
excellent housewife as he has already, a chaste divinity, as pure as
Lakshmi! What, he must go and tie a co-wife to her neck! It is a crying
shame! Why, there is a really nothing that men will not do!" The barber
was dumbfounded by this eloquent outburst, but taking no notice of what
his wife was saying, stuck his hat of plaited leaves on his head and went
off.
That day was a very cloudy one, but early next morning the sun shone
brightly. The trees and plants seemed all to have received new life, and
the joyous sounds of beast and bird, in field and garden, were redoubled.
Baburam Babu, Thakchacha, Bakreswar Babu, and Bancharam Babu
were just getting into one of the numerous boats at the Vaidyabati Ghât,
when suddenly Beni Babu and Becharam Babu appeared. Thakchacha
pretended not to see them, and shouted to the boatmen to let the boat
loose, while they remonstrated: "But master, the ebb tide is still running!
how shall we be able to get along against it even if we punt with poles or
haul with ropes?" Baburam Babu received his two friends very
courteously, saying: "Your arrival is most opportune: come, let us all be
off." Becharam Babu then remonstrated: "Ah Baburam, who in the world
advised you to go and marry at your age?"
Baburam.— Ah Becharam, my dear friend, am I so old as all that? I am a
good deal younger than you are: besides, if you say that my hair is quite
gray and that I have lost all my teeth, that is the case with a good many
others even at an early age: it is not such a very great drawback. I have a
good many things to think of; one of my sons has gone to the bad,
another has become a lunatic: one of my daughters is no more, another is
as good as a widow. If I have children by this marriage, my family will
be preserved from extinction: I am, moreover, under an obligation to
marry: if I do not do so the girl’s father will lose caste, for they have no
other family they can marry her into.
Bakreswar.— That is indeed true: do you suppose that the master has
entered upon a matter of this importance without taking everything into
consideration? I know no one of a better understanding.
Bancharam.— We are Kulins: we must maintain the traditions of our
family at any cost, and where wealth is a recommendation as well, why,
there is nothing more to be said!
Becharam.— Confound your family traditions and bad luck to your
wealth! Alas, how many persons have combined to overthrow one
house! What do you say, friend Beni?
Beni.— What shall I say? our remonstrances are but as idle words, as the
tears of one weeping in a wilderness. But really this matter is a cause of
great grief to me. To marry again when you already have one wife, is a
grievous sin: no man who wished to maintain his virtue could ever do
such a thing. There may be a Shástra of an opposite opinion, it is true;
but there is never any necessity for following it: that such a Shástra is
not a genuine one there can be no reasonable doubt, and should it be
taken as a guide in actual practice, the bonds of marriage would thereby
become much weakened. The feelings of the wife towards her husband
cannot remain as before, and the feelings of the husband towards his
wife will also be constantly changing. If such a calamity as this befalls a
family, it cannot possibly prosper or be happy. If there is such a rule in
the Shástras, that rule should not be regarded as binding. Be that as it
may, it is very base of Baburam Baba to marry a second time,
considering what a wife he has still living. I know nothing about the
details of the matter: it has only just come to my ears.
Thakchacha.— Ah, the man of books picks a hole in everything! he
seems to me to have nothing else to do. I am getting an old man now, and
my beard is gray. Must I be always arguing with such children? Does the
learned Babu know how much wealth this marriage will bring to the
family?
Becharam.— Mercenary wretch that you are! do you recognise money
only? Have you no regard for anything else? You are a low unprincipled
scoundrel, that is all I can say. Ugh! friend Beni, come, let us be off.
Thakchacha.— I will have a talk with you some other day: we cannot
waste any more time now. You will have to hurry if you want to reach
the house in time.
Thereupon, Becharam caught hold of Beni Babu by the hand and got up,
saying: "We will never, as long as we live, go to such a marriage; and if
there be such a thing as virtue in the world, may you not return in peace!
Only ruin can attend your counsel: you who are now enjoying yourself at
Baburam Babu’s expense! I have nothing more to say to you. Ugh!"
 CHAPTER XVIII.
MOZOOMDAR ON THE MARRIAGE.
THE sun was just setting: gloriously beautiful was the western sky with
its many and varied tints. On land and water the sun’s tremulous light
seemed gently smiling, while a soft breeze blew: everything was calm
and inviting. On such an evening as this, a number of young men were
thronging with loud and boisterous shouts down the main street of
Vaidyabati. They knocked against the passers-by, smashing the things
they were carrying, hustling them, throwing their baskets away and
robbing them of their supplies of food. They sang continuously at the top
of their voices, imitating the howls of dogs at the same time. On either
side of the road people fled, calling for assistance and protection,
trembling, and bewildered with fear. Like a storm sweeping down from
all four quarters of the compass at once, with the roar of heavy rain, this
whirlwind came tearing and raging past. And who are these mighty men?
Who indeed but those models of virtue, Matilall and his companions?
â King Nala and Yudhishthira over again! They are far too great
personages to pay heed to anyone: so full of self-importance and of pride
are their heads that they are as unsteady in their gait as men drunk with
much wine. They have it all their own way as they come swaggering
along.
Just then an old man from the village, one Mozoomdar, his solitary lock
waving in the breeze, a stick in one hand and some vegetables in the
other, approached them, leaning heavily on his stick. They all surrounded
him and began to amuse themselves at his expense. Mozoomdar was a
little hard of hearing, and when they said to him: "Come, tell us, how is
your wife?" he replied: "I shall have to roast them before I can eat them."
They laughed heartily, and Mozoomdar would have liked to slip away,
but there was no escape for him. The young Babus seized him, and
making him sit on the bank of the river, gave him a pipe of tobacco,
saying to him: ‘Come, Mozoomdar, tell us all about the row at the
marriage of the master of Vaidyabati: you are bit of a poet: it is a
pleasure to us to listen to you. If you do not tell us, we shall not let you
off, and we shall go and tell your wife that you have met with an
untimely death.’ Mozoomdar saw that he was in a bad way, and that
there was no getting out of it unless he complied; so, making the best of
a bad job, he set his stick and vegetables on the ground and commenced
his narrative.
"It is a pitiable tale that I have to tell. What an experience has it been to
me, accompanying the master! It was close on evening when the boat
drew up at the Barnagore Ghât. Some women had come to the riverside
to draw water: as soon as they saw the master, they veiled their faces
slightly and began to chatter hard to each other, laughing quietly the
while. ‘Ha what a lovely bridegroom!’ they cried, ‘what a sweet
champac flower for a lucky girl to fondle in her braided hair!’ Said one
of them: ‘Old or young, whichever he may be, the girl will have no
difficulty in seeing him with her eyes: that of itself is something. May
the wretched lot that has befallen me befall no one else: married at the
age of six, I have never even set eyes on my husband. I have heard that
he has married some fifty wives, and is over eighty years of age; and
though he is such a wretched tottering old man, he never makes any
objection to marry if he is only well paid for it. Sorely some great crimes
must have been committed in former births, or else daughters would
never be born into a Kulin’s family!’ ‘My dear,’ said another woman to
her, ‘you have finished drawing water now: come along, you ought not
to gossip like this when you come to the riverside. Why, your husband is
alive, whereas the man I was married to was actually dying, with his feet
in the Ganges, when the ceremony of marriage was performed! What
possible good will it do to discuss the religious duties of Kulin
Brahmans? The secrets of the heart are best kept locked up in the
breast.’"
"It grieved me to listen to the talk of the women, and the words of Beni
Babu, which he spoke at the time of our departure, recurred to my mind.
Then on landing at the Barnagore ghât, there was a good deal of trouble
in trying to get a palki, but not a single bearer was to be had, and the
time for the ceremony was fast slipping away. We had to proceed as best
we could. After a good deal of floundering about in the mud, we reached
the house of the bride’s father. How can I describe to you the figure that
the master presented after he had tumbled down in the road? we had only
to put him upon an ox, for him to have appeared a veritable Mahadeva,
and we might have presented Thakchacha and Bakreswar as Nandi and
Bhringi in attendance upon him. I had heard rumours that there would be
a large distribution of presents, but on getting up to the great hall, I saw
that there was to be nothing of the sort: it was all a delusion, and another
illustration of the old proverb,— ‘Sand has fallen into the goor.’
Thakchacha, seeing his hopes destroyed, was glaring around him
everywhere, and strutting insolently about. I could not help smiling to
myself, but I thought it would be safer not to express my real sentiments.
The bridegroom had meanwhile withdrawn for the ceremonies
performed by the women of the family. The women, old and young, all
surrounded him, their ornaments jingling as they moved about They
were horrified when they saw the bridegroom. During the performance
of the ceremony, when bride and bridegroom gaze into each other’s eyes,
he was obliged to put his spectacles on: the women all burst out laughing
and began to make fun of him. He flew into a passion and called out,
‘Thakchacha! Thakchacha!’ Thakchacha was just on the point of running
into the women’s apartments, when the people belonging to the party of
the bride’s father got him on the ground. Bancharam Babu was
pugnacious, and got well thrashed. Bakreswar Babu was hustled about so
that he resembled a pigeon with swollen neck. When I saw the
disturbance, I left the bridegroom’s party and joined that of the bride.
What became of everybody in the end I cannot say, but Thakchacha had
to return home in a dooly. You all know the saying— ‘In avarice is sin,
and in sin death.’ Now listen to the poetry I have composed":—
Any counsel his parasite pours in his ears,
Baburam, the old dotard, as gospel reveres.
Still dreaming of riches by day and by night,
No thought ever stirs him of wrong or of right.
In saving and getting he squanders his life,
And lately it struck him, "I’ll marry a wife!"
"Fie! you’re old," cry his friends, "and what can you need more?"
"You’ve your wife and your children, with grandsons in store?"
But their kindly advice for themselves they may keep
At a trifle like bigamy, fortunes go cheap!
So all in a flurry he orders a boat,
And with kinsmen and servants is shortly afloat.
Good Beni’s remonstrance he haughtily spurns,
Who home to his rice unrewarded returns.
Becharam is disgusted, and toddles away:
"Thakchacha, you scoundrel!" was all he could say.
But the Barnagore women such volleys of jeers
Exchange through their chudders where’er he appears,
That the bridegroom gets nervous, and asks in affright,
"Can I really be such a ridiculous sight?"
"Is some further expenditure needed, alas?"
And anxiously studies his face in the glass.
Reassured of his beauty, and freed from alarm
He swaggers along, upon Thakchacha’s arm.
But scarce is he rid of that terrible doubt,
When in mud like a pumpkin he’s tumbling about;
And his friends in the mire as they flounder half-dead,
See the Halls, not of Hymen but Pluto ahead.
And indeed it turns out, when he’s taken the yoke[33],
That his vision connubial has vanished in smoke;
For the cluster of pearls he was hoping to claim,
And the gold and the silver, were nought but a name!
Thakchacha, outwitted, with furious scowl
Glares round him, scarce able to stifle a howl.
And oh, when its time for the bridegroom to enter
The ladies’ domain[34], of what mirth he’s the centre!
Every bangle a-jangle, around him they flutter,
And flout him and scout him till scarce he can stutter.
"This pot-bellied dotard to wed with a baby!"
"This bloated old octogenarian gaby!"
"With a head like a gourd, not a tooth to his gum!"
"’Tis an overgrown ogre in spectacles come!"
"And the child, the sweet blossom, our jewel so rare!"
"Ah, shame on the Kulins, such deeds who can dare!"
While, shrinking and blinking and all of a shiver,
The bridegroom, a captive whom none will deliver,
Cries feebly as one in the direst of pain,
"To the rescue, Thakchacha!" again and again.
That hero leaps in at the piteous sound,
But is seized by the durwans and hurled to the ground.
The remains of his beard he may rescue to-day,
But a terrible hiding’s his share of the prey.
The guests, who consider it risky to stay,
Have other engagements, and hasten away.
Your servant, the tumult increasing still more,
Not without some temerity, made for the door,
And retired, with a fortitude second to none.
All hail to you, masters! my story is done.
 CHAPTER XIX.
DEATH OF BABURAM BABU.
HAVING just come in from his morning walk, Beni Babu was sitting in
his garden-house. He was gazing about him, and had just caught up a
refrain of Ram Prasad’s[35]
"Swift to its goal life ebbs away."

— when suddenly from a bower of creepers to the west of him, he heard

a voice: "Ha! friend Beni! True indeed it is that ‘swift to its goal life ebbs
away.’" Starting up from his seat, Beni Babu saw Becharam Babu of
Bow Bazar hurrying towards him, and going to meet him, said:
"Becharam, my dear friend, what has happened?" Becharam Babu
replied: "Throw your shawl over your shoulders and come with me at
once: Baburam Babu is very ill: you must see him just once."
The two friends soon reached Vaidyabati, and saw that Baburam Babu
had a very severe attack of fever: his temperature was very high, and he
was suffering from intense thirst, tossing restlessly about on his bed.
Some slices of cucumber and a cloth steeped in rose-water lay beside
him, but he could retain no nourishment. The villagers all thronged
around, loudly discussing the nature of his illness: one of them was
saying: "Our pulse is the pulse of vegetarians and fish-eaters: nothing but
harm can arise from the use of leeches, purgatives, and blisters. The best
kind of treatment for us is that of the old village doctor; and then, if no
relief is obtained, and grave symptoms occur, a doctor using the English
methods might be called in." Another remarked: "It would be a good
thing to have the opinion of a Mahomedan hakim: they often effect
wonderful cures, and their drugs are all as pleasant to take as that
delicious sweetmeat the mohanbhog" Another said: "You may say what
you will, but doctors who treat on English methods give instantaneous
relief in all such cases of sickness, as if by the repetition of a mantra: a
cure will be very difficult without proper medical treatment." The sick
man kept repeatedly asking for water. Brojonath Raya, the old kabiraj,
who was sitting by him at the time, said: "The case is a very serious one:
it is not a good thing to be constantly giving him water: we must give
him a little of the juice of the bael. We are none of us his enemies, I
should imagine, that we should be giving him just now as much water as
he wants." All this wrangling was going on by Baburam Babu’s bedside.
The next room was filled with a number of pandits, who, of course,
regarded as of chief importance the performance of sacrifices to Shiva,
the worship of the sun, the offering of a million of hibiscus flowers at
Kali’s shrine at Kalighat, and all such religious ceremonials. Beni Babu
had been standing listening to the discussion going on round Baburam
Babu, but everybody was talking at once and nobody listening to
anybody else. "Many sages many opinions" says the old proverb, and
each man thought his words as infallible as the mystic mantra: possessed
by Druva. Though Beni Babu attempted once or twice to express his own
opinion, his words were lost almost before he had opened his lips[36], and
being unable to get a word in edgewise, he took Becharam Babu outside
with him.
Just then Thakchacha approached them, limping painfully along: he was
exceedingly anxious on account of Baburam Babu’s illness, reflecting
that all his chances of gain had slipped away. Beni Babu, seeing him,
said: "Thakchacha, what is the matter with your leg?" Becharam burst in
with the remark: "What, my friend, have you never heard of the affair of
Barnagore? The pain he is suffering is only the punishment for his evil
advice: have you forgotten what I said in the boat?" Thakchacha tried to
slip away when he heard this, but Beni Babu caught him by the arm and
said: "Never mind that now! is anything being devised for the recovery
of the master? There is great confusion in the house." Thakchacha
replied: "When the fever commenced, I took Ekramaddi the hakim with
me: by the administration of purgatives and other drugs he reduced the
fever, and allowed his patient to eat spiced rice; but the fever returned
again the other day, and since then Brojonath the kabiraj has been
looking after the case. The fever seems to me to be steadily increasing: I
cannot imagine what to do." Beni Babu said: "Thakchacha, do not be
angry at what I am going to say: you should have sent us news of this
before. However, that cannot be helped now: we must call in a skilled
English doctor at once."
At this moment, Ramlall and Barada Prasad Babu approached. Ramlall’s
face was quite worn from night-watching, from the labour and toil of
nursing, and from I anxiety of mind; his daily anxiety was to devise
means for restoring his father to convalescence and health. Seeing Beni
Babu he said to him: "Sir, I am in grievous trouble: with all this
confusion in the house no good advice is to be had from any one. Barada
Babu comes every morning and evening to look after my father, but none
of the people here will allow me to carry out his instructions. Your
arrival is most opportune: please adopt any steps you think necessary."
Becharam Babu gazed steadily at Barada Babu for some time, and then
with tears in his eyes caught hold of his hand and cried: "Ah, Barada
Babu, why is it that everybody does you reverence, except on account of
the many good qualities you possess? Why, it was Thakchacha here who
advised Baburam Babu to have that charge of illegal confinement and
assault brought against you, and all kinds of violence and knavery have
been practised on you without rhyme or reason, at their instigation; and
yet, when Thakchacha fell sick, you cured him, treating him and even
nursing him yourself, and now too, when Baburam is ill, you spare no
effort to give good advice, and to look after his welfare. Now generally
speaking, if one man but speaks harshly against another, enmity at once
springs up between them, and though a thousand apologies may be
made, the feeling does not pass away; but though you have been
grievously insulted and injured, you have no difficulty in forgetting the
insult and injuries you have suffered. No feeling towards another but
brotherly kindness arises in your mind. Ah, Barada Babu, many may talk
of virtue, but never have I found any possessing such as you possess.
Men are naturally base and corrupt; how then can they judge of your
qualities? But as day and night are true, your qualities will be judged
above."
Somewhat vexed by these remarks of Becharam Babu, Barada Babu
bowed his head and said humbly: "Sir, pray do not address me like this. I
am but a very insignificant person: what is my knowledge or what my
virtue after all?"
"We had better postpone this conversation" Beni Babu said, "tell me now
what to devise for the master’s illness."
Barada Babu replied: "If you gentlemen think the idea a good one, I can
go to Calcutta and bring a doctor back with me by the evening: no
further confidence, I think, should be placed in Brojonath Raya."
Premnarayan Mozoomdar, who was standing near, remarked: "Doctors
do not properly understand the pulse, and they let their patients die in
their houses. We ought not to dismiss the kabiraj altogether: on the
contrary, let the kabiraj and the doctor each take up a special feature of
the case."
"We can take that matter into consideration afterwards" Beni Babu said,
"go now, Barada Babu, and fetch a doctor."
Barada Babu started off for Calcutta at once, without taking either his
bath or his food, though they all remonstrated: "Sir, you have the whole
day before you, take a mouthful of food before you start." He only
replied: "If I stop to do that there will be delay, and all my trouble may
go for nought."
Baburam Babu, as he lay on his bed, kept asking where Matilall was, but
it was hard to get a glimpse of even the top tuft of his hair: he was
always out on picnics with his boon companions, and paid no heed to his
father’s illness. Beni Babu observing this conduct sent a servant out to
Matilall in the garden, but he only sent back some feigned excuse; he had
a very bad headache, and would come home later on. As the fever left
Baburam Babu about two o’clock in the afternoon, his pulse became
exceedingly weak: the kabiraj examining it, said: "The master must be
removed from the house at once. He is a man of long experience, an old
man, and a man highly respected; and we ought certainly to ensure that
his end be a happy one." On hearing this the whole household broke out
into loud lamentations, and all his kinsmen and neighbours assisted in
carrying him into the great hall of the house. Just then Barada Babu
arrived with the English doctor. The latter, observing the state of his
pulse, remarked. "You have called me in at the last moment: how can a
doctor possibly be of any use if you only summon him just before taking
a patient to the Ganges[30]?" With these words he departed.
All the inhabitants of Vaidyabati stood round Baburam Babu, each
asking some question or other, such as: "Honoured sir, can you recognise
me?" "Come, sir, say who I am?" Beni Babu remonstrated: "Please do
not vex the sick man in this way? What is the good of all this
questioning[37]?" The officiating priests had now completed their
sacrifices, and approached with the sacred flowers of blessing; but they
saw at once that their ceremonial had all been in vain. Seeing that
Baburam Babu’s breathing was becoming heavier, they all took him to
the Vaidyabati Ghât. After tasting of the Ganges water and breathing the
fresher air, he revived a little: the crowd too had diminished in numbers.
Ramlall sat beside his father while Barada Prasad Babu came and stood
in front of him. After a short pause, the latter said very quietly: "Pray
meditate for this once with all your mind upon the Supreme God:
without His favour we are utterly helpless." Baburam Babu hearing these
words, gazed intently for a few seconds at Barada Prasad Babu, and
began to shed tears. Ramlall wiped away his tears and gave him a few
drops of milk to drink. Baburam Babu then grew more composed and
said in a low tone: "Ah, my friend Barada Babu, I now know that I have
no other friend in the world but you! Through the evil counsel of a
certain individual, I have committed many and grievous crimes: these are
continually recurring to my memory, and my soul seems to be on fire. I
am a grievous sinner: how shall I make answer for it? Can you possibly
forgive me?" As he uttered these words Baburam Babu took hold of the
hand of Barada Babu, and closed his eyes. His friends and neighbours
who were near began repeating the name of God. Thus, in full possession
of his faculties[38] Baburam Babu passed away.
 CHAPTER XX.
THE SHRADDHA CEREMONY.
ON the death of his father, Matilall succeeded to the guddee, and became
the head of the house. His former companions never left his side for a
moment, and he grew as proud as a turkey-cock, rejoicing in the thought
that at last after so long a time he might give his extravagance its full
bent. When Matilall displayed a little grief on his father’s account, his
companions said to him: "Why are you so depressed? who expects to
live for ever with his father and mother? You are now lord and master."
A fool’s grief is a mere empty name. How can true sorrow possibly
affect the mind of the man who has never given any happiness to those
whom he should hold most sacred— his father and his mother— but on
the contrary untold pain and misery? The feeling, if it does arise, passes
away like a shadow, and the natural consequence is that such a man can
never have any veneration for the memory of his father, and his mind is
never inclined to do anything to keep him in remembrance. Matilall’s
eager desire to know the extent of the property which his father had left,
very soon overshadowed his grief. Acting on the advice of his
companions, he put double locks on the house-door and on the money-
chest, and became more easy in his mind when he had done so. He was
in a perpetual state of alarm lest his money should somehow or other fall
into the hands of his mother, stepmother, brother or sister, and be
altogether lost to him in consequence. His companions were continually
saying to him: "Money is a very important thing, sir! Where it is in
question, no confidence is to be reposed even in one’s own father. Now
there is your younger brother always carrying a big bag of virtue about
with him wherever he goes, and with truth always on his tongue; yet
even his preceptor never shows indulgence to anyone, but whenever he
has the opportunity enforces his full claims. We have seen a good many
shams of that kind. Anyhow, Barada Babu must know something of
witchcraft: he must have lived some time at Kamrup[39]. How otherwise
is it possible to account for the great influence he had over Baburam
Babu at the time of his death?"
Not very long after this conversation, Matilall proceeded to visit his
relatives and kinsmen, to signify his accession to his new position as
master of the house. Busybodies are at all times to be found, ready to
interfere in other people’s concerns. Like the twists and turns of the
jelabhi sweetmeat, their conversation touches on a variety of topics, but
never goes straight to the point: like air it wanders where it will, and it is
as difficult to get hold of, for it will generally be found on close
examination to have double meaning. Some of those he visited said:
"The master was a most worthy person: had it not been for his great store
of merit, he could not have had the children he did. His death too,—
why, it was characteristic of the man! it was marvellous! Ah, sir, all this
time you have been under the shelter of a mountain, shielded and
protected! You will now have your own discretion to depend upon: the
family all look to you: you have the whole number of religious festivals
to keep up: you have, moreover, to perpetuate the name of your father
and your grandfather. First, of course you must perform the shraddha
with due regard to your property: you need not in this matter dance to the
tune of the world’s opinion. Why Ram Chandra himself offered a funeral
cake of sand to his father’s shade, and if you have to abridge your
expenditure in this respect, it is idle to mourn over that: but to do nothing
at all is not good. Ah, sir, you must know that your father’s name
resounds far and wide! by virtue of his name the tiger and the cow drink
at the same pool! can his shraddha then be like the shraddha of a poor
and insignificant man? Even those encumbered with debt must avoid the
world’s reproach." Matilall could not comprehend the drift of all this
talk. These men, while nominally manifesting their bosom friendship as
kinsmen for a kinsman, were really in their inmost hearts eager to have a
gorgeous shraddha ceremony, and themselves to get the management of
it, so that they might gain importance thereby; but they would never give
a plain answer to a plain question. One of them said: "It will never do not
to have the shorash, with the usual display of silver and other presents."
Another remarked: "You will find it very hard to keep the world’s
respect, if you do not have a dan-sagar, with costly presents of every
kind for all comers." Another said: "It will be a very poor sort of
shraddha, if there is no dampati-baran, for poor Brahmans." And
another said: "It will be a great disgrace if pandits are not invited to
attend, and a distribution of alms not made to the poor." There was a
good deal of wrangling over the affair. "Who wants your advice?"—
"Who told you to argue?"— "Who listens to your conclusions?"—
"Nobody respects you in the village: it is only in your own opinion that
you are the head man," such remarks were freely bandied about from one
to the other. Each of those present indeed was in his own estimation the
most important man there, and each man thought what he had to say the
conclusion of the whole matter. Three days after this discussion, Beni
Babu, Becharam Babu, Bancharam Babu, and Bakreswar Babu, arrived
at Matilall’s house. Thakchacha was sitting near Matilall as melancholy
and spiritless as a snake with its jewelled crest lost: with bead-rosary in
his hand and with trembling lips, he was muttering his prayers. His
attention was not directed to the brisk conversation that was going on
around him: his eyes were rolling about, their glance chiefly directed at
the wall. When he saw Beni Babu and the others, he rose hurriedly and
saluted them. Such humility on Thakchacha’s part had never been
witnessed before, but the old proverb has it:— "With the venom, goes
the glamour."
Beni Babu took hold of Thakchacha’s hand, and said to him: "Why, what
are you doing? How is it that you, a venerable old Moulvi as you are,
honour us like this?"
Bancharam Babu said: "We must waste no more time: our leisure is very
limited. Nothing is as yet arranged; come, tell us what should be done."
Becharam.— Baburam’s affairs are in great confusion: some of the
property will have to be sold to clear off debts. It would not be right to
celebrate the shraddha on a magnificent scale and incur more debt by so
doing.
Bancharam.— What is this I hear? Surely the very first requisite is to
avoid the censure of the world: the property may be looked after later on.
Shall honour and reputation be allowed to float away on the waters of
this flood?
Becharam.— That is very bad advice, and I will never assent to it myself.
How now, friend Beni, what do you say?
Beni.— To incur debt again in any case where there is already a good
deal, and where it is doubtful whether it can be cleared off even by a sale
of property, is really a species of theft; for how can the new debt incurred
be cleared off?
Bancharam.— Bah! that is only an English idea. As a matter of fact the
rich always live on credit: they incur debts here only to pay them off
there. A respectable man like you should not be a marplot; or put
obstacles in the way of a good action. I have no property to give way