The Men That Pass
Romesh Chandra Dutt is dead. After a long life of
the most manifold and untiring energy, famous, honoured,
advanced in years, with a name known in England as well as in India, the man
always successful, always favoured of Fortune, always striving to deserve her by
skill and diligence, type of a race that passes, of a generation that to younger
minds is fast losing the appearance of reality and possibility, has passed away
at the height and summit of his career before his great capacities could justify
themselves to the full in his new station, but also before the defects of his
type could be thoroughly subjected to the severe ordeal of the times that have
come upon us. The landmarks of the past fall one by one and none rise in their
place. The few great survivors here and there become more and more dignified
monuments of the last century and less and less creators of the living present.
New ideals, new problems, new men, almost a new race wholly different in mind,
character, temperament, feeling,
rise swiftly and wait till they can open the gates of the future and occupy the
field of action. Page – 367
ful. Nature was
liberal to him of her gifts, Fortune of her favours.
A splendid physique, robust and massive, equipped him to bear the strain of an
unceasing activity: a nature buoyant, sanguine, strong, as healthy as his
frame, armed him against the shocks of life and commanded success by insisting
upon it; an egoism natural to such a robust vitality seized on all things as
its provender and enabled its possessor thoroughly to enjoy the good things of
life which it successfully demanded; a great tact and savoir faire steered him clear of unnecessary friction and
avoidable difficulties; an unrivalled quickness of grasp, absorption and assimilation, more facile than subtle or
deep, helped him to make his own all that he heard or read; a rapid though not
ingenious brain showed him how to use his material with the best effect and
most practical utility; and a facile pen and speech which never paused for a
thought or a word, could always be trusted to clothe what he wished to convey
in a form respectable and effective and so well put as to conceal the absence
of native literary faculty and intellectual distinction. These were Nature’s
presents to him at his birth. Fortune placed him in a wealthy, well-read and
well-known family, gave him the best advantages of education the times could
afford, sent him to England and opened the doors of the Civil Service, the
pinnacle of the young Jndian’s aspiration in his
days, and crowned him with the highest prizes that that highest of careers
could yield to a man of his hue and blood. It is characteristic of his career
that he should have died as Prime Minister of the Indian State which has been
most successful in reproducing and improving upon the Anglo-Indian model of
administration. Page – 368 scholar: he cannot rank with Ranade or even with Gokhale as an economist, and yet his are the most politically effective contri- butions to economic literature in India that recent years have produced. It must be admitted that his activity and dexterity of work were far in excess of his literary ability or scholastic conscientiousness. It is doubtful, therefore, whether any of his voluminous works in many kinds will be remembered, with the possible though not very certain exception of his Bengali historical novels in which he touched his creative highwater mark. His translation of the Rig-veda by its ease and crispness blinds the uninitiated reader to the fact that it may be a very pretty translation but it is not the Veda. His history of ancient Indian civilisation is a masterly compilation, void of original research, which is rapidly growing antiquated. In fact, the one art he possessed in the highest degree and in which alone it can be said that he did not only well but best, was the art of the journalist and pamphleteer. Originality and deep thought are not required of a journalist, nor delicacy, nor subtlety; his success would be limited rather than assisted by such qualities. To seize victoriously on the available materials, catch in them what will be interesting and effective and put it brightly and clearly, this is the dharma of the journalist, and, if we add the power of making the most of a case and enforcing a given view with irresistible energy, dexterity and apparent unanswerableness, we shall have added all that is necessary to turn the journalist into the pamphleteer. No man of our time has had these gifts to the same extent as Romesh Dutt. The best things he ever did were, in our view, his letters to Lord Curzon and his Economic History. The former fixed public opinion in India irretrievably and nobody cared even to consider Lord Curzon’s answer. "That settles it" was the general feeling every ordinary reader contracted for good after reading this brilliant and telling indictment. Without the Economic History and its damning story of England’s commercial and fiscal dealings with India we doubt whether the public mind would have been ready for the Boycott. In this one instance it may be. said of him that he not only wrote history but created it. But all his works, with the exception of the historical novels, were rather pieces of successful Page – 369 journalism
than literature. Still, even where it was most defective, his work was always
useful to the world. For instance, his Ramayana and Mahabharata, though they
are poor and commonplace poetry and do unpardonable violence to the spirit of
the original, yet familiarised the average reader in
England with the stories of the epics and thus made the way easy for future
interpreters of the East to the West. In brief, this may be said in unstinted
praise of Romesh Dutt, that
he was a gigantic worker and did an immense amount of pioneer spadework by
which the future will benefit. Page – 370 |