Lokmanya Tilak. A Biography

LOKMANYA TILAK A BIOGRAPHY

LOKMANYA TILAK A BIOGRAPHY A.K. B HAGWAT G.P. PRADHAN Foreword by DR. S. RADHAKRISHNAN Former President of India JAICO PUBLISHING HOUSE Ahmedabad Bangalore Bhopal Bhubaneswar Chennai Delhi Hyderabad Kolkata Lucknow Mumbai

Published by Jaico Publishing House A-2 Jash Chambers, 7-A Sir Phirozshah Mehta Road Fort, Mumbai - 400 001 [email protected] www.jaicobooks.com © A.K. Bhagwat & G.P. Pradhan LOKMANYA TILAK - A BIOGRAPHY ISBN 978-81-7992-846-2 First Jaico Impression: 2008 Fourth Jaico Impression: 2011 No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Printed by Kaveri Printer, Delhi -92

CONTENTS FOREWORD PREFACE 1 THE COMMON PLATFORM 2 SCHOOL AND COLLEGE, PRESS AND PRISON 3 THE PARTING OF WAYS 4 THE END OF AN EPOCH 5 FROM LIBERALISM TO NATIONALISM 6 STORM AND STRESS 7 WIDENING HORIZONS

8 A PERSONAL INTERLUDE 9 THE FOUR PILLARS 10 GOKHALE-TILAK-AUROBINDO 11 FROM A LARGER TO A SMALLER PRISON 12 AWAY FROM THE PUBLIC GAZE 13 TOWARDS COMPROMISE AND CONSOLIDATION 14 THE GOSPEL OF SWARAJ 15 THE ACCREDITED LEADERS 16 IN ENGLAND 17 ARRIVAL AND DEPARTURE 18 THE SCHOLAR AND THE’SADHAKA’

19 A SUMMING UP

FOREWORD This biography of Lokmanya Tilak by Shri A. K. Bhagwat and Shri G. P. Pradhan is a valuable addition to the literature on this subject available in English. There are different sides to Tilak’s life of which the most prominent is his political contribution. He gave the dynamic message to us that” Swaraj is my birth right and I shall have it”. His force of character, moral conviction and the courage to stand up and suffer for the cause of India’s freedom are brought out vividly in this volume. Tilak’s patriotism was a blend of political, moral and religious strands. Tilak was not only a political leader but also a great scholar and journalist. His mind had a comprehensive sweep embracing ancient literature and modern science. He illuminated every subject he took up. Tilak had faith in the validity and relevance of the ancient ideals of this country to modern life. His monumental work, the Gita Rahasya is a testimony to it. At a time when there is a great deal of insecurity and aimless drift in spite of frantic activity, he speaks to us of the need for inward discipline and compassion for man. I have no doubt that this book will reveal to the readers the universality of Tilak’s mind and essential faith in what one may call the ‘family of man’. Dr. S. Radhakrishnan

PREFACE It is sometimes disturbing to think afresh of the idols of one’s early years. A discovery of the unknown facets of their personalities and also of their limitations make one doubt the validity of every judgment of one’s past. We began studying Lokmanya Tilak’s life and work with a similar misgiving. However, the multi-splendoured personality of Tilak, both as an individual and as a leader, was so absorbing that till the end we were oblivious of our initial apprehensions. During the days of our work we could recreate for ourselves the intellectual and political climate of the age of Tilak. We would cherish the memory of these days as one of the most exhilarating in our lives. The competition sponsored by the All-India Congress Committee on the occasion of Lokmanya Tilak’s birth centenary celebrations prompted us to undertake the writing of this book. We were singularly fortunate in having the guidance of the late Acharya S. D. Javadekar, a political philosopher of modern Maharashtra. He stimulated our minds, corrected some of our judgments, and helped us evolve a perspective on Tilak and his times. The writing of this book was a labour, of love, which was made lighter and sweeter through the help of a number of persons. Of these we can only mention the following few to whom our grateful thanks are due: Professors S. S. Murdeshwar, M. D. Hatkanaglekar, A. B. Shah and Shri G. M. Karmarkar helped us to finalize the manuscript. Shrimati Malavika Pradhan and Shrimati Meera Bhagwat stood by us throughout the strenuous period of our work. Shri J. H. Shah of Jaico Publishing House undertook the printing of the book and brought it out on time. We are indebted to the University of Poona for the grant-in-aid of Rs. 500 towards the cost of this book. No words are adequate to express our sense of gratitude to Dr. S. Radhakrishnan who, in spite of his multifarious activities, wrote a foreword to this book. A.K. Bhagwat G.P. Pradhan

THE COMMON PLATFORM 1 “The impression made by the first sentence that comes before us is more lasting than the one that comes later. That is why a particular type of education has to be given in childhood,” declared Bal Gangadhar Tilak in 1908.1 The influences of childhood generally make a deeper impression and are more permanent. Very often they form a focus around which later impressions are grouped. Like a sensitive plant the young mind absorbs all that is congenial to it from the air, the soil and the growth around. To understand correctly how Tilak’s mind was moulded one has to go back to his childhood and see what ideas and impressions influenced him most. These ideas formed the structure of his mind and gave him a standard by which later day influences of books, men, and matters could be measured. Companionship in youth played a conspicuous part in serving to point his thoughts in a certain direction, giving him a clear line of action. Tilak was born on the 23 rd July 1856, at Ratnagiri, in the Bombay Presidency, on the west coast of India, in a family of Chitpavan Brahmins. The people of this part have always been known to be hardy, industrious and practical; simple in their living and frugal in their habits. The Chitpavan Brahmins are known for their uncommon intellectual abilities and from the time of the illustrious Peshwas have earned a name for administrative as also martial qualities. In the British period, the Chitpavans were among the first to take to English education and filled many important positions with distinction. Tilak’s father, Gangadhar Ramchandra Tilak, popularly known for his Sanskrit learning as Gangadhar Shastri, was at first the headmaster of a primary school and later became an Assistant Deputy Educational Inspector. Though he did not have the advantage of an English education, Gangadhar Shastri was known for his learning, and earned for his knowledge of Sanskrit, the respect of such eminent Sanskrit scholars as Dr. R.G. Bhandarkar. The Tilak family came from the small village of Chikhalgaon of which they were the “Knots”.2 Tilak’s grandfather, Ramchandra, was a storekeeper of the Peshwas before the Mutiny of 1857, and in his old age became a sanyasi. He left but little to his son, but the son, by dint of hard work and the frugality, characteristic of the people of the west

coast, appeared to be fairly well off, particularly in his later days. The birth of Tilak was a matter of particular rejoicing, because there had been three daughters before him in the family, and a son and heir was greatly desired. His mother Parvatibai, a devout religious woman, worshipped the sun so that she might be blessed with a son. The child was named Keshav first, but came to be known by the pet name “Bal”, given to him by his mother. This name, Tilak says, he continued in later life, to perpetuate his mother’s memory. Tilak was sent to a primary school in 1861 and before his initiation had made very good progress in the traditional learning of the multiplication tables, arithmetic, Sanskrit declensions and synonyms from the Amarkosha. In 1886, Tilak’s father was transferred to Poona and took up lodgings in Budhwar Peth, in the heart of the city. Before Tilak entered the English school, his mother died and six years later he lost his father too, a few months before he entered college. In 1871, he was married to a girl of 11 from the Bal family, which also came from the Konkan. The Bals were known for their hospitality and charitable disposition and Tilak’s father trusted Tilak’s brother-in-law so much that at the time of his death he deposited with him all the money he had, without executing a bond of any kind. Tilak’s grandfather lived at Kashi and Tilak’s father wrote to him that he had an offer of marriage from the Bal family. “The girl is plain and we shall not get much dowry. Many other better looking girls have also been proposed and we may get a dowry of more than Rs. 500.” Tilak’s grandfather replied that dowry or looks did not matter and that the girl from the Bal family should be chosen. Accordingly, Tilak was married at the age of 15. Tilak’s father had left about Rs. 5,000 on his death and his affairs were entrusted to the care of Govindrao, his brother, who along with his wife Gopikabai, became Tilak’s guardian. Tilak got a good education in the orthodox Hindu cultural tradition and this influence remained throughout his life. It is also necessary to remember that Tilak’s father was a teacher, known for his learning. His mother was orthodox and spent much of her time in worship. Both were therefore careful to see that the boy’s mind was moulded in the traditional Hindu fashion. At school, Tilak showed his independence when, on one occasion, wrongly charged by the teacher with eating groundnuts in the class, he refused to accept the punishment and walked home with books and slate in defiance of the teacher. A Sanskrit Shastri in the Poona High School once dictated the

translation of a few Sanskrit verses to Tilak’s class; but Tilak refused to take it down, and when taken to task by the teacher said, “It is no use mugging up a translation given by others.” At the age of 12 while taking dictation he wrote the word (Sant) in three different ways and when the teacher held only the first one correct, he complained to the headmaster and got full credit for the variations. He was a bright student, particularly brilliant in Mathematics and Sanskrit,* and though he never won any academic prizes, apart from a junior scholarship, at the Deccan College, whatever he studied remained with him as a permanent acquisition. In 1873, just a few months after his father’s death, he entered the Deccan College, Poona. At first he used to walk a distance of about two miles from the city, take a ferry at the river and go to college on foot. But later he stayed in the hostel and formed valuable friendships. Excepting for the death of his parents before he was out of his teens, there seems to have been very little to disturb the childhood days of Tilak. The place of his parents was admirably filled by an uncle and aunt, who regarded the boy as their sacred trust and lavished on him every care and affection. Happy in his domestic life, the boy Tilak did not experience any of the struggles which are, the lot of others not so blessed by circumstances. A child looks at the world through the prism of its domestic life; and to a boy with a happy and comfortable family background, society and social conventions do not appear to be menacing or inimical. Tilak entered college in 1873. In the Deccan College of his days the student community being small was a compact one. There were hardly two hundred students in the college, most of whom lived in the hostels. It was again a cosmopolitan institution, where students belonging to all classes and communities studied together. It was, therefore, a time where friendships of a lasting nature could be formed. Life was enjoyable and the world was good. There was room for all, and pleasure was heightened by fellowship. Tilak was a small, puny-looking individual and the contrast that his puny physical frame presented to the more robust one of his wife was a matter of mirth among his friends. Tikk showed his determination and strength of purpose by devoting the whole of his first year at college to improving his health. With this resolve he took physical exercise and practised gymnastics. A young man is nine-tenths animal spirit. Even though it was a serious minded generation, with youth maturing early, being saddled with the responsibilities of a wife and children at a very early age, they could be free and unrestrained during their brief stay at college. Tilak does not seem to have played tennis or cricket, but was very

fond of boating and swimming. Swimming was to remain a permanent passion with him throughout his life. An intimate glimpse of Tilak’s life at college is given by a contemporary:3 “Poona,” he says, “then had the reputation of having a salubrious climate and of being cheap, the site of the Deccan College being also a further attraction on account of its situation in a lovely solitary spot, far away from the busy haunts of the city. Mr. B. G. Tilak was then a lean spare figure with twinkling eyes and a massive head with a short tuft of hair. His dress was as simple as it was later. He wore a large round red turban with no lace end and a flowing long coat4 and a sadra (shirt) inside and carried an angawastra (upper garment) with him, with Dakshini shoes on his feet. Virtually there was no change in his dress from the time we saw him at the college till he expired.... In private hours of study he wore no shirt at all but was to be found in his dhoti, with the upper portion of his body bare, and an angawastra. At the end of three or four years, the Tilak whom we had seen at the outset was quite different. He had then a well-developed body with broad chest and robust arms.” Tilak became a resident student at the beginning of the second term after he entered college, i.e. in June 1873. Tilak’s room was on the ground floor. At meal times he strictly followed the orthodox practice of wearing a “pure” silk dhoti and ridiculed those who, in his opinion, blindly aped the foreigner in sitting at their meals in their shirts and ordinary dhotis. Tilak was a hearty eater and showed a preference for wheat bread. Tilak was not an early riser. His habit was to wander at will in the hostel and the college grounds, which were extensive, and play a thousand and one pranks on his hostel mates. Some of his friends, once intending to play a joke on him, hid his silk dhoti at meal time. Tilak sat for his meal in his wet dhoti after his bath and then to punish his mischievous friends, entered their room by climbing over the partitions after they had gone out and bolted each of the doors from the inside. For such pranks he earned the nickname “Devil” and was also given the name “Blunt”. He appears to have been very sociable and popular, too, among his fellow students. There is an air of genial recklessness and abandon about his behaviour at college. K. B. Deval, a friend of Tilak, describes an incident when he visited Tilak at the Deccan College: “We sat on the terrace talking. The topic was the valour of the people in the reign of the Peshwas. Some of us became emotional. ‘What will you do, if it is necessary for us to disappear from here at a

moment’s notice?’ asked someone. Almost everyone said that it was impossible. Tilak alone stood up, rolled up his dhoti, tightened it and jumped down a height of 10 ft. without pausing to think for a moment, saying, ‘That is what I would do.’ Everyone thought that he would break his legs but Tilak was seen calmly ascending the stairs, totally unhurt.” M. V. Kathavate, his school fellow, says that though determined and stern he was very sensitive where his friends were concerned. One of their friends, Marathey, an M.A. student, fell ill. The doctor advised very careful nursing. Tilak volunteered, stayed with the patient and nursed him day and night. The friend, however, died; but one more instance of Tilak’s strength of mind was seen at the funeral. When the dead body was burning on the pyre one of the feet stuck out suddenly. Nobody knew what to do but Tilak stepped forward, cut out the limb and threw it with great sorrow on to the pyre. Here was an instance of his mind that was at the same time soft as a flower and hard as nails. He usually studied at night, beginning to read at 11 and continuing even up to 2 a.m. His method of reading was always critical and he was reluctant to take anything on trust, no matter from what high authority it came, saying that it was the duty of everyone to make use of his God-given intellect. He was particularly good in Mathematics and during the six months that he was in the Elphinstone College, Bombay, in the same class as Justice Chandavarkar, he made a name as a brilliant student of mathematics. At the Deccan College, he became the leader of a group of students who boycotted the lectures of one of the professors, probably Dr. Peterson, and was blunt enough to tell the professor that he did not know how to teach Sanskrit. Tilak does not seem to have been impressed by any of his professors during his college days, except the professor of mathematics, Kero Vaman Chhatre. Chhatre was a great scholar and teacher, respected and loved by all his students. It was through him that Tilak acquired a passion for mathematics and in after years he often said that he would have been content to be a teacher of mathematics if India were a free country. Chhatre affectionately called him “Tilkya” and on his death-bed hoped that his brilliant disciple would carry on his tradition of mathematics. Tilak was also fond of science and scientific experiments and it is said that he had actually brought the heart and brain of an ox to his room in the town and dissected them. This appears remarkable in view of the orthodoxy in which he

had been brought up. He passed his B.A. in 1876 in the first class with mathematics, pure and applied, as his optional subjects. Besides these, he had also to study English, Sanskrit, Euclid and Statics as compulsory subjects. After taking his B.A. he studied for his LL.B. degree, which he obtained in 1879. It was at this time that he seems to have come into very close contact and formed a very close friendship with a young man, who was of the same age but who entered the Deccan College three years later than he. This young man was Gopal Ganesh Agarkar and in many respects he was a kindred soul. Deeply interested in ideas, with a transparent sincerity, young Agarkar attracted Tilak with whom he enjoyed “many a bout of thought entangled descant.” For a number of years after he met Agarkar, Tilak’s life and activities could not be separated from those of Agarkar and a study of their common environment, their reactions to it and their discussions gives an idea of the main movement of the mind of the 19th century Maharashtra. Their different reactions to problems of their days were mainly due to different influences in childhood and also to temperamental differences. Agarkar was born in the same year as Tilak, but had to fight ceaselessly with poverty and its attendant misfortune. He was born in a middle-class family, which had once seen better days but had now become impoverished. His father does not seem to have exerted himself to earn a living, with the result that Agarkar was left to fend for himself at a very early age. He became a clerk at 13 and later a compounder. On one occasion, he covered most of the distance of 150 miles on foot from Karhad to Ratnagiri, hoping that a rich relative would help him in his education. With his insatiable thirst for knowledge, he went from Poona to his maternal uncle Bhagwat at Amraotì and at last succeeded in passing his matriculation and entered the Deccan College, three years after Tilak joined it. At college, too, he had to struggle constantly with financial difficulties and it is said that almost throughout his college life he had but one shirt. His sensitive and impressionable mind naturally dwelt on an unjust social order that made a person suffer for no fault of his and tried to crush him ruthlessly under the dead weight of custom and tradition. As a boy, there was no religious, or for that matter, any kind of influence on him and he grew fiercely independent and critical of the world around him. A part from these differences in the status of their families, there were temperamental differences between Agarkar and Tilak. Agarkar was fond of imaginative literature, Shelley and Shakespeare being his favourites. For his subjects he chose history and moral philosophy, which satisfied his speculative

genius. Tilak, cast in a more matter-of-fact mould, loved mathematics, the intricacies of Sanskrit grammar and sciences like physics. Agarkar’s mind, free from any influence of traditional religion or dogma, was soon engrossed in the philosophical literature of the West and quickly absorbed the ideas of Mill and Spencer. Tilak, too, did not escape this influence but he appeared at this time to suspend his judgment with regard to philosophical questions and was inclined to trust to the judgment of Agarkar. Before we consider the intellectual influences on Tilak and Agarkar, it is necessary to see how their sensitive minds reacted to their surroundings. To them books, though important, were not the only source of inspiration. The atmosphere of a city like Poona, which had witnessed the fall of the Maratha power hardly half a century before, seethed with discussion about social and political problems. Poona was then a place, where side by side with the most advanced westernised classes, there also dwelt the most orthodox. There were also the relics of feudal aristocracy who looked back nostalgically to their past glory, inwardly hoping that the old times would return once more. The last half century had been a period of cataclysmic changes. The external stimuli seemed to be changing so very rapidly that the average man found it difficult to respond to them. Even minds made of sterner stuff were unhinged and looked about bewildered. The first reaction was a blind and uncritical acceptance of western standards and western ideas. There developed a spirit of latitudinarianism and a general loss of values and moral chaos to which all the writers of the day make a reference. This was not so much the result of a study of western thinkers, as the instinctive reaction of uncritical minds brought suddenly into contact with a civilisation that was entirely different and in many respects superior. It was a period of transition in which besides schools and colleges, many other agencies of education worked side by side. There were, for example, the foreign Christian missionaries. They were selfless workers. Many of them were great scholars, and whatever one might think of their proselytizing activities, their spirit of perseverance could not but evoke admiration. The social equality of Christianity and the openness with which the missionaries talked and mixed with the high and the low had a profound effect on Hindu society. Their attacks on polytheism and caste inequalities set up a social ferment and made the thinking section of the generation search their hearts. The second agency of education, the British government, looked at education strictly from the point of view of the administrative needs of British India. It is

true that the originators of English education were sincere liberals, who had foreseen the time when an Indian generation awakened by British ideas of justice, equality and freedom would themselves ask for these rights. These ideas would have progressed unchecked but for the disaster of 1857. The mistake made by the British statesmen was to concentrate too much of their attention on the educated minority and laying too cruel an emphasis on the rule of the law. The masses were being increasingly impoverished and periodical famines were a regular feature of the British period in the 19th century. The disgruntled relics of feudal aristocracy had combined in a desperate effort in 1857 and after their defeat the British rigorously followed a policy of divide and rule. Though in the Proclamation of 1858 an assurance was given that no distinction would be made on grounds of race, caste or creed, in actual practice, Indians were excluded from all the superior posts of administration. The impoverished peasants had revolted at one or two places, in the Deccan, for instance, against the growing burden placed on them; but generally even that strength had gone out of them. “In this surrounding darkness of blight and frustration, where avenues of politics, education, the services were closed to the common man, the only ray of light, the only point of contact, the only straw to which the average Indian clung with the desperation of a drowning man were caste and communal loyalty. Here was something, that he knew and understood, something, too, which offered contact and cohesion in a disintegrating world. The caste, at least, was not suspect in the eyes of the Government. They on the contrary encouraged caste feelings. What wonder if the people, baffled and frightened, got enmeshed in a net of caste and sub-caste.”5 Poona, with the rest of Maharashtra, was little affected by the Mutiny; but the peasantry and the educated people could not but feel its effects. The city had become a strange assortment of people, throwing up a number of eccentrics. It was at this time that some of the most enlightened and level-headed Indians brought new vitality into the life of the people. The third and the most potent agency of education in 19th century India was the influence of progressive Indians; and Poona was particularly fortunate in having the master mind of the century, Mahadev Govind Ranade. In 1871, Ranade was transferred to Poona on being appointed to a permanent post in the judicial service and for the next quarter of a century he was the guiding spirit of Maharashtra. He applied himself wholeheartedly to the numerous tasks of reconstruction. His effort was mainly educative and in a series of lectures on public finance and religious and cultural

topics he created an enthusiasm for economic and industrial progress, for Indian-made goods and also for Maratha history and literature. This educational effort of Ranade must have made a profound impression on the serious-minded college students of the day. The first thing that impressed the “educated natives” of India about the new civilization with which they came into contact was institutional life. The very first manifestation of the Indian Renaissance of the 19th century was therefore to be seen in a number of institutions that sprang up all over the country. In 1848 the students of Elphinstone College, under the inspiration of Dadabhai Naoroji had started the “Jnanprasarak Sabha” and it was this institution and its work that is said to have inspired Ranade. In 1852 Dadabhai and Jagannath Shankarshet started the Bombay Association, which sent a petition to the Imperial Parliament and demanded an enlightened system of government for British Indian subjects. In Bengal, the British Indian Association was started in 1851 and about the same time was born The Madras Native Association. In Poona, the Sirdars, remnants of the feudal nobility, started the Deccan Association. Thus the liberal policy of the first generation of British administrators bore fruit and in almost all the provincial and important towns, constitutional agitation was started and “the era of cart-loads of petitions and prayers was inaugurated”. As could have been expected, this movement was confined to a small class of the educated elite. On coming to Poona, one of the first public activities of Ranade was to put life into the Sarvajanik Sabha, which was established in Poona in 1870. Its object, at first, was the modest one of setting right the administrative affairs of the temple of Parwati in Poona, built by the Peshwas. In Ranade’s hands the activities of the Sabha were expanded to such an extent that it became a political organisation par excellence and a model for other provincial associations. Tilak and Agarkar must have watched the activities of the Sabha very closely. Tilak took a very prominent part in the Sabha after his graduation and, later in 1896, became its secretary by capturing its management. The activities of the Sabha are of more than ordinary interest. With a man like Ranade at the helm, the Sabha did pioneering work in many fields, particularly in an investigation of agrarian problems during the Deccan riots of 1875. In 1872 Ranade delivered a lecture on Indian trade and commercial enterprise. He expatiated on the drain of Indian capital and resources under the British rule a thesis that Dadabhai Naoroji maintained with a wealth of statistics. Ranade

pointed out that of the national income of India more than one-third was taken away by the British in some form or other. India exported its raw material but the imports in the form of finished goods were considerably less in value. India was not self-governing politically and there was no capital to develop industries in India. There was again the tendency shown by Indians to buy foreign goods, which was fatal to indigenous or Swadeshi goods. Ranade attributed the cause of India’s poverty to foreign exploitation; but he was no pessimist. He was equally critical of the waste of gold and silver which was “buried” in the form of ornaments. According to him the impoverishment of India was due to both foreign domination and to the ignorance of the people. Referring to the Franco- German war Ranade held up the example of France and exhorted the people to be more economical and utilize their savings for the growth of commercial enterprise. This lecture, it is said, inspired one of the founders of the Sarvajanik Sabha, Ganesh Vasudeo Joshi (1828-80), to take a vow to use only Indian-made cloth. He became a trusted lieutenant of Ranade and so great were his zeal and industry that he came to be known as the Uncle of the People - Sarvajanik Kaka. He started shops at different places for the propagation of Swadeshi goods and started the first company for the sale of Swadeshi goods. In 1872, when Henry Fawcett was elected to Parliament as a Liberal candidate, the Sarvajanik Sabha joined in congratulating him and in 1873 the Sabha undertook the work, the first of its kind in India, of surveying the economic condition of the Deccan districts. In 1873 Ranade made another speech in which he brought out the contrast between the growth of Indian trade after the advent of British power and the poverty of the Indian people. He pointed out that though India had abundant natural wealth, the people did little to exploit it. He referred to the double slavery of the people “first political where we are slaves of people living in a distant island and in worldly affairs we are slaves of their slaves”. He deplored the tendency of those who put forward the fallacious argument about the comparative happiness and security that the slave enjoys as he is looked after by his master. Ranade, therefore, was putting forward the same views as were advanced by Dadabhai,6 though the difference between him and Dadabhai was fundamental. Whereas Dadabhai emphasised the drain of wealth and blamed the English for

being responsible for it, he saw no hope of capital being formed out of private savings, nor did he see much possibility of an Indian industry thriving under such circumstances. Ranade was inclined to shelve this question of the annual drain as being a political question and wished to concentrate on the growth of indigenous industry. To him Dadabhai’s views were those of an extremist who concentrated more on the political question. It was therefore a question of emphasis and the new generation led by Tilak and Agarkar were more inclined to favour Dadabhai as against Ranade.7 In 1874, the Sabha sent a petition to Parliament demanding the right of representation to India in the British Parliament. In 1875 came the affair of the trial of the Ruler of Baroda, Mulharrao Gaekwar. The Maharaja was charged with an attempt to poison the British resident. The affair aroused very wide interest in Maharashtra. As the last vestiges of Maratha power, the people of Maharashtra looked at the State with pride. From the evidence of college contemporaries,8 all the students of the college took a keen interest in the case and vigorously discussed it. Tilak showed his vigorous and keen interest in these discussions. Everyone was particular that the Maharaja got a fair trial. The Sarvajanik Sabha, therefore, sent a petition to the government stating, “The Gaekwar kingdom, as being the oldest, richest and nearest, has always been regarded as having the greatest claim upon the affections of the people” and demanded a fair trial for him. Tilak must have followed closely the ideas of Dadabhai, who had just resigned the Dewanship of Baroda before the arrest of Mulharrao, and of Ranade who was mainly instrumental in sending the petition on behalf of the Sarvajanik Sabha. In the scheme of national renaissance envisaged by Ranade, all classes and interests had their part to play.9 While these activities of Ranade elicited the admiration of all, there were other things which alienated him from certain sections of the public. In 1873 Ranade’s wife died and it was expected that as a champion of social reform Ranade would marry a widow when he took a second wife. When, however, in deference to the wishes of his aged father, Ranade married a girl of 13 he provoked a storm of protest from the reformist sections and was branded a coward by the orthodox sections, who cited this as one of the many instances to prove the impracticability of social reform. Another incident which drew Ranade into the welter of controversy was the arrival of Swami Dayananda Saraswati, the founder of the Arya Samaj, in Poona. A section of social reformers, headed by Ranade, accorded a welcome to the Swami and decided to take him in procession through

the city. The rabidly orthodox sections decided to thwart this move. Bitter recriminations followed, the police had to intervene, and the matter also went to the law court. This rabid antagonism was unfortunately a characteristic feature of Poona orthodoxy. In 1876, in the Deccan riots, the Sabha, under Ranade’s guidance, championed the cause of the agriculturists by collecting reliable information on which the Government was requested to act according to the requirements of the famine rules and the declared policy of the government based on these rules. This activity was looked upon by the official world as an interference in the official routine, and the agents of the Sabha, on many occasions, incurred the wrath of the government. “It was at this time,” says Dr. Pattabhi Sitaramayya,10 “that Lord Lytton inaugurated his reactionary rule which was characterised by the Vernacular Press Act of 1878, the Afghan War, the costly Indian Durbar (1877) and the sacrifice of cotton import duty (1877)”. In England too the Liberal Gladstone was succeeded by the Imperialist Disraeli, who wanted to show the world the Imperial glory of Britain by celebrating the assumption of the tide of “Empress of India” by the Queen of England. The Sarvajanik Sabha utilised this opportunity by presenting an address to the Queen in which the demands of the Indians were put forward. The Queen was requested to start a new era by granting equal political and social status to India along with Britain. The Khaddar-clad Sarvajanik Kaka presented this address at the Durbar as the representative of the Sarvajanik Sabha and also made a speech to the august assembly. In this he stressed the importance of the representative character of the gathering and hoped that the occasion would lay the foundation of unity and signal a new age of national regeneration. “You are the great and illustrious people of this country. You are the united Parliament of India....” The idea of the Indian National Congress was thus born at this Durbar and as great minds agree, this dream of Sarvajanik Kaka was also shared by Surendranath Banerjee, who also attended the Durbar.11 Thus while the educated and enlightened middle-class and aristocratic leaders were voicing India’s national aspirations in a typically western manner, the masses expressed themselves in riots like the Deccan riots, to which a reference has been made earlier. In these riots Vasudeo Balwant Phadke (1846-83), a clerk in the Military Accounts Department, tried to organise an armed revolt in Maharashtra. There were sporadic acts of violence and, as it usually happens in

such cases, Phadke could not control the malcontents he had gathered and the effort came to an end. Phadke was arrested and tried on a charge of attempting to overthrow the British Raj. It was Sarvajanik Kaka, who showed the courage of accepting his brief, and as the result of his able advocacy Phadke escaped the death sentence and was instead sentenced to transportation for life. Four years later he died at Aden. Phadke’s attempt, though crude and untimely, created a sensation in Poona and his unflinching courage aroused admiration. Tilak, too, must have noted this insurrectionary attempt at overthrowing the government and its futility. Though of little importance in effect, it is important to remember that this was the only attempt after the mutiny of 1857 at organising an armed revolt against the British. The bureaucracy was alarmed and saw in it a plot of the Brahmins of Poona to regain what they had lost with the downfall of the Peshwas. At this time, again, two of the historical places of the Peshwas in Poona were suddenly, burnt down. The name of the culprit happened to be Ranade, who confessed that he was in league with Phadke. The bureaucracy, by an act of perverse ingenuity, which had always been its characteristic, connected the culprit with Mahadev Govind Ranade, who had already become an object of suspicion on account of his numerous social and political activities. In 1873, Ranade was therefore suddenly transferred from Poona to Nasik. Ranade’s transfer and the displeasure that he had incurred was a topic of common discussion in Poona and could not have failed to impress such a keen student of public affairs as Tilak. He must have noted the quiet acquiescence bordering on helplessness which even a person like Ranade had to show, because he was a government servant. The possibility of serving the country by being more independent may have entered his mind because of this and similar other instances. Thus Ranade’s, influence was sobering, and sedate. Ranade looked upon the contact with the British as a providential arrangement and his scheme of reform was essentially theistic in character. He was conscious of the great cultural past of India and sought to take what was best in it. It is possible, however, that the minds of the college-going youth were drawn to more extreme attitudes, expressed in flamboyant language. A youth of 18, whose powers of intellect are above average, is usually impatient of the cautious and slow methods of the older generation. The extreme stand was to be found in the impassioned writings of Vishnushastri Chiplunkar who started his Nibandh-Mala in 1874, a year after

Tilak had entered college. Chiplunkar’s caustic pen was largely responsible for awakening the moral wrath of the younger generation against foreign domination. His impassioned articles made the people conscious that they were heirs to a great cultural and national tradition. His appeal went home because it was sentimental, and though often one-sided and partial, he was always forceful and direct. Though he paid homage to the virility of the English language by calling it the milk of the tigress, he was very critical of British rule. He paid tribute to the love of independence and the feeling of nationalism that this essentially liberal education created. At the same time he had no sympathy with the belief of the elder statesmen like Ranade, that nothing but good would result from the contact between the British and Indians. In trying to define the objective of his periodical, he ironically discussed “the erroneous impressions of many who believe that the English have come to this hot country from a distance of 4,000 miles to do good to the Indians. Most people are now convinced that the object ot the British in ruling over India is something other than the good of this country.” This sentiment as also the bantering tone was apt to make an appeal to impressionable minds. In essay after essay, Chiplunkar referred to the degradation of the language and culture of the Maratha people, railed at the missionaries for their attacks on Hinduism and hit back at the English, who tried to find fault with the natives for their English by quoting in turn the blunders of early English educationists like Major Candy in their Marathi writing. It was, therefore, a mood of violent reaction against British rule expressed in an extreme form that we find in Vishnushastri. This second generation of English- educated persons differed in many important respects from its predecessors. They had seen that the liberal promises of the early British administrators had come to nothing; taking their cue from their elders they had realised the impoverishment of the people of India under the foreign rule; but their reaction was a more vehement opposition instead of supine co-operation, advocated by the elder statesmen. They had at the same time noted the futility of insurrectionary methods, and wanted to see if they could find a golden mean that would steer clear of looking to the government every time on the one hand and the insurrectionary methods on the other. The study of Mill had made them believers in the constitutional form of representative government and the path of constitutional agitation had already been blazed by Ranade and Dadabhai. Intellectually they were critical and analytical. Tilak also, like Agarkar, lacked the

faith of the first generation of Ranade and Bhandarkar, who had tried to regenerate Hinduism by starting the Prarthana Samaj. Tilak does not seem to have had any sympathy with such attempts. He appears to have had his doubts regarding the essentially religious and theistic approach to the problems of life. It is here that the influence of Agarkar is to be clearly seen, though Tilak does not seem to have got out of the childhood influences of the daily religious ritual; for that was the first sentence that had come before him. The influence of the early religious teaching, when it was imparted by so upright and learned a man as his father, tended to build up a sense of moral values in him. Religion in such a case, though authoritarian, instilled in a young mind the desire to go beyond narrow egotism and the pleasures of a worldly life and made him think, however dimly, about salvation in the religious sense of the term. Tilak has made a very significant statement about his childhood influences in his later life. “When I was quite a boy, I was told by my elders, that strictly religious and philosophic life was incompatible with the humdrum life of every day. If one was ambitious enough to try to attain the highest goal a person could attain, then one must divest oneself of all earthly duties and renounce the world. One could not serve two masters, the world and God. This set me thinking. The question that I posed to myself was, ‘Does my religion want me to give up this world and renounce it before I attempt to attain the perfection of manhood?’”12 Renunciation of worldly life therefore was an ideal that Tilak had before him and his grandfather had, by his personal example, demonstrated it. The idea of going beyond “the narrow domestic walls” must have entered the minds of both Tilak and Agarkar fairly early. With Tilak, it was a question of salvation in the religious sense. But with reading of Mill and Spencer, and Tyndall and Huxley, and under the influence of Agarkar he was led onwards in the path of doubt. This gave rise to a critical attitude towards life. He must have been caught in the “wave of agnosticism and atheism, materialistic in its character and unsettling in its effectsthat was mainly due to ideas borrowed from the writings of Mill and Spencer”.13 In the first uncritical reaction to the teachings of Darwin and Mill’s Utilitarianism it was thought that man was descended from ape and God’s existence was to be questioned. The effect of this on many was the growth of latitudinarianism and a loss of faith. Agarkar and Tilak, being essentially selfless and sincere, had no fascination for a life of pleasure. Agarkar could therefore see the idealistic message of service to humanity in Mill’s Utilitarianism. From Mill the younger generation learnt

fairness in argument and precision in thought and language. The agnosticism of Spencer and Mill was not the agnosticism of the 18th century writers, who played at criticism while dealing with the problems of life. Spencer held before his readers a high ideal which served to lift a conscientious student above the petty vanities of life. “If they teach us doubt,” says Chandavarkar, who was a contemporary of Tilak and Agarkar, “they teach us to doubt well. And their own pure lives added to the moral earnestness, only go to foster in the mind a tone of seriousness and teach it to approach the problems of life in a reverential spirit.” Tilak’s love of science attracted him to the Positivism of Comte which formulated a philosophy founded on the sciences and their higher generalisations. From his religion of Humanism he had gathered the thought that disinterested service of humanity would be the religion of the future. His conservative mind must have been impressed by Comte’s Sociology which was based on an idea of a sort of four estate system where the first position would be occupied by the scientist and the industrialist. This had an interesting parallel with the Hindu idea of a caste system. It is a matter of conjecture again, but it is likely that Agarkar must have influenced Tilak to reconcile his ideas of salvation of the soul with the secular idea of selfless service to humanity. While discussing philosophical questions with Agarkar, Tilak admitted that they were worth a careful consideration though he was inclined to suspend his judgment as his thoughts had not attained maturity. In spite of certain differences there were similarities between them. Both had shown their independence right from the beginning - first in childhood pranks and later in defiance of authority. Both were equally impatient of injustice in any form. To Tilak it was the political injustice of foreign domination that had to be tackled first, while to Agarkar the primary task was to break the chains of social injustice and tyranny. During their college days, these differences surfaced in intellectual discussions, which Tilak and Agarkar carried on in many long- drawn bouts with all the zeal they were capable of. Though both felt the need, however vaguely, of fighting against political domination, the exact nature of their struggle was not clear In fact the contact between the British and the Indians had not been analysed in all its aspects till then. It was not clear therefore if severance from Britain was necessary for the regeneration of India or whether it could be done under the aegis of the British Empire. Political life, with all that it brings in its train such as organising political

parties, party propaganda, etc., had not yet begun. In the field of social reform the task was beset with numerous difficulties. Being essentially men of action Tilak and Agarkar could not carry on a discussion which was both endless and fruitless. They had an urge to chalk out a plan of action. They thought, therefore, of a middle way in the form of an educational effort that would strike at the foot of all evil, social or political. This effort, they believed, could pave the way of regeneration. It was to be their common platform on which they were determined to stand together with a crusader’s zeal. Thus through their friendship with each other, and contact with the mighty minds of old and of their own time, was born a great idea - the pioneering effort in private western education in the 80’s of the last century. The time had now come when education was to be made cheaper and was to be freed from the narrow, official channels through which it seemed to flow in government institutions. These young men were, therefore, living up to the ideal with which their Alma Mater had been started in 1852, “The improvements in education, which most effectually contribute to elevate the moral and intellectual condition of a people, are those which concern the education of the higher class - of the persons possessing leisure and natural influence over the minds of their countrymen. By raising the standard of instruction among these classes, you would eventually produce a much greater and more beneficial change in the ideas and feelings of the community than you can hope to produce by acting directly upon the more numerous class.” Tilak and Agarkar were trying to spread the light of knowledge further among the middle-class people and were thus the purveyors of a new idea. They were cutting out a new path in public life of dedicating themselves to an ideal, gladly embracing poverty and hardship. They deliberately turned away from the lures of government service and the enticements of other professions then easily within reach and launchied a new type of public work, fraught with uncertanties. It was a propitious moment that they had chosen, for Vishnushastri Chiplunkar, whose writings they had come to admire, had actually broken away from the shackles of government service and was also thinking along the same lines and the young men decided to join him. It was a life of voluntary poverty and selfless service that they had chosen and therefore the elders at home, who naturally had dreams about their bright prospects, had to be convinced. Agarkar wrote to his mother when he became a fellow in the Deccan College: “Mother, perhaps you have ambitious schemes for

your son that he would get a high salaried post after graduation. I may as well tell you just now that I am not going after wealth, but shall be content to live only on that which just keeps body and soul together and devote all my time to the good of others.” Also in one of his speeches in 1919 Tilak described Agarkar’s thoughts and his own during college days: “We were men,” he said, “with our brains in a fever heat with the thoughts of the degraded condition of our country and after long cogitation we had formed the opinion that the salvation of our motherland was to be found in education alone.” 1 Lecture on ‘Bhakti’, Tilak 2 Khot: Originally a rent-collector, representing the government, the Knot came to be invested with the rights of land ownership. Under the British, Khotì became a quasi-hereditary right. 3 K. G. Sharang pani, Judge, Bawda State. See Bapat, II, P. 611. 4 ‘This “Coat” does not seem to be the Parsee style long coat but the typically Maharashtrian robe fastened with strings at one side. 5 P. 99, The Communal Triangle in India, by Ashok Mehta Achyut Patwardhan. 6 See page 38, Poverty and Unbritìsh Rale in India. 7 Pages 133-36, Adhumk Bharat, by Acharya Javadekar. 8 K.G. Sharangpani, Bapat, II, p. 611. 9 See Ranade: The Prophet of Liberated India, by D. G. Karve. 10 History of the Indian National Congress, p 14. 11 Pp. 32-33, Indian National Evolution, by Ambika Charan Mazumdar. 12 Lecture at Amraoti, 1917. 13 N. G. Chandavarkar : Speeches and Writings, p. 231. * N. C. Kelkar gives in his biography of Tilak a few Sanskrit verses which Tilak composed at school and college. They show his easy mastery over the language and metre but are mostly conventional in ideas.

SCHOOL AND COLLEGE, PRESS AND PRISON 2 The dreams of youth many a rime vanish at the first touch of reality. There is a wide gap between the promise of youth and the actual performance in later life. Young men aspire to pursue a noble ideal and yet, when overwhelmed by a hostile environment, give up the ideal as impracticable. This surrender to difficulties is an agonising process; but these wounds of the mind are soon healed and reluctant surrender takes the form of a willing compromise. Only in a few cases the scars remain and these sensitive minds betray a sentimental attitude in later events. Generally the giving up of an ideal is followed by rationalisation; but the attempt to deceive the world almost invariably ends in self-deception. Tilak and Agarkar were, however, made of sterner stuff. Theirs was a resolve of the mind rather than of the heart only. The mightier the challenge, the greater was their determination to meet it. Both of them had the peculiarly realistic attitude of Maharashtrians1 and were aware of the tremendous difficulties they would have to face. They were not interested in the dramatic thrill of martyrdom, but were determined to tread a thorny path, the end of which was not in sight. They did not wish to dazzle the world with anything that was flashy and brilliant. And yet they had the consciousness of being torch-bearers. It was the torch of knowledge that Agarkar and Tilak wanted to hold aloft in a society where darkness prevailed. The discussions during college days had clarified the issue for these two ambitious young men. They were capable of launching a pioneering effort on their own. They, however, found in Vishnushastri Chiplunkar a worthy leader for piloting an ambitious scheme. Through his Nibandh-Mala, Vishnushastri had stirred the mind of Maharashtra and cast a spell on its younger generation. Tilak and Agarkar, therefore, looked up to him for a bold lead and discussed with him their plan for establishing a private school on the model of missionary institutions. Two other young men B. A. Bhagwat and V. B. Karandikar also agreed to join Tilak and Agarkar. Chiplunkar enthusiastically agreed to captain this team of idealists, and it was decided to start a school in Poona by 1880. These young men also consulted

Ranade, who was a friend, philosopher and guide to all those who wanted to render some service to the motherland. Ranade’s mature judgment was in sharp contrast with Chiplunkar’s impetuosity, and yet he recognised in the proposed plan of these young men the signs of a new era. An interesting anecdote is told by the late Justice Chandavarkar. In the summer of 1879, when Chandavarkar was out for a walk in the evening along with a friend, he was accosted by Agarkar and Tilak who intimated to him their plan of starting a private school and of starting two journals one in Marathi and the other in English. Agarkar also informed Chandavarkar that they had obtained the consent of Ranade to this plan. Chandavarkar who thought the enterprise rather quixotic, expressed his doubts to Ranade the next day. Ranade immediately replied, “So far, most of our social workers were government servants. These enthusiastic young men are resolved to dedicate their lives to our country. They are a step ahead of us and it is our first duty to encourage them. We must not look at them with suspicion.” This anecdote clearly indicates how Tilak and Agarkar had impressed a sober leader like Ranade by their idealistic fervour. The plan was taking shape and one can imagine how Chiplunkar, Tilak and Agarkar must have lent all their energies to the ambitious undertaking. Chiplunkar in a letter to his younger brother, written on 13th September 1879, writes enthusiastically in English: “The memorable 1st of October is approaching. I shall enjoy the pleasure of kicking off my chains that day. Mr. Agarkar, Mr. Tilak, Mr. Bhagwat and Mr. Karandikar have tendered proposals for joining me in the enterprise. This they have done of their own accord. We have settled the 1st of January for the hoisting of the standard.” The difficult nature of their task was first realised by them when Bhagwat and Karandikar, who had first lent their support to the scheme, withdrew. Chiplunkar therefore did not mention any names in the prospectus which he published on behalf of himself and his colleagues on the 15th December 18. He was conscious of the significance of the effort undertaken, and yet he had a realistic attitude which prevented him from giving flamboyant expression to it in public. While mentioning the aims and objectives of the proposed educational institution, he only mentioned one objective, viz. to facilitate and cheapen education. There was yet one more difficulty right at the beginning. Agarkar got the Senior Fellowship in the Deccan College and therefore deferred joining his colleagues for a year. Chiplunkar and Tilak were therefore the only two persons

left to open the New English School on 1st January 1880. At this time Mahadeo Ballal Namjoshi joined them and after a time, another able young man, Vaman Shivram Apte, also came forward to shoulder the responsibility and was made superintendent. Besides these pioneers, there were other young teachers who were inspired to join the New English School - a symbol of a new movement which heralded the dawn in Maharashtra. Chiplunkar, Tilak and Agarkar looked upon the establishment of the New English School as the beginning of the effort at reawakening the conscience and arousing the intellect of the people of Maharashtra. There were others, who looked upon the enterprise as a wild goose chase and dubbed the idealistic young men as Don Quixotes. Chiplunkar, who, owing to his sharp intellect and sharper tongue, was always quick in giving retorts, made the following statement in his address on the eve of the closing of the New English School for the summer vacation of 1880: “Suffice it, therefore, to say that the New English School is a fully accomplished fact, accomplished too in the midst of a thousand difficulties, amidst popular apathy, in utter disregard of desponding opinions, in contemptuous indifference to showers of epithets like ‘mad’, ‘hopeless’, ‘chimerical’, ‘Utopian’ the invariable lot of everyone who would be so bold as to disturb the dull routine of things.” The starting of the New English School was an event which shook the student world of Poona. Young minds always respond to the call of idealism and some students even gave up their scholarships in government schools in order to join the New English School. To quote from the history of the Deccan Education Society, “Many a household had its peace disturbed by conflict between the young and the old, the young hopeful of the family asking to be withdrawn from his old school to be put into the new one, which the dominant instinct of caution in the old, prompted them to keep at an arm’s length.” The success of an undertaking depends on the sustained effort put in. The fervent idealist is likely to be defeated unless his urge is supplemented with ability. Fortunately, the young men who started the New English School proved their ability as excellent teachers, and as a result, the strength of the school rose from 35 on 1st January 1880 to 336 on 31st December 1880. Qualitatively their achievements were still more striking. Eight out of twelve students sent up for the Matriculation examination got through and one of them secured the rare distinction of winning the first Jagannath Shankarshet Scholarship for getting the

highest marks in Sanskrit at the Matriculation examination of the University of Bombay. Sir James Fergusson, the then Governor of Bombay sent a cordial message of congratulations on the success attained and Dr. W W. Hunter, the President of the Education Commission, made the following observation during his visit to the school on 8th September 1882, “This institution the work of some zealous, able and intelligent educated youths, actuated by ideas of self-support and self-dependence, though not receiving any aid from government can rival and compete with success, not only with the government high schools of this country, but may compare favourably with the schools of other countries also.” This achievement was due to the splendid team-work under the magnetic leadership of Chiplunkar. A rare team it was, having in it a robust realist like Tilak, an able administrator like Apte, an efficient organiser like Namjoshi and a restive soul like Agarkar. As in the case of all idealists, there was a touch of Utopianism about the ways of these people. Owing to their inexperience, they enjoyed a romantic thrill in making certain novel experiments. They did not care for worldly gains, and thought that living together with their families would be economical and quite in keeping with the Jesustic principles which they professed. Accordingly Tilak, Namjoshi and Agarkar lived together with their families in the Tambe Wada in Shanwar Peth, Poona. The whole establishment was accommodated in three rooms, one for the male members, the other for ladies and the third as a kitchen and the dining room. This “club” as they called it worked smoothly for some time, but there were small frictions and minor worries and this brave new world of community life broke under the rough and tumble of everyday life. It is interesting to read the impressions of some of the students of these teacher idealists. It is said that Chiplunkar was an inspiring personality, rather too conscious of his mission. His lessons therefore took the form of orations urging the students to develop a new outlook on life. Interesting though these lectures were, they could not be appreciated in the class-room. Tilak followed an altogether different method. He never introduced digressions in his lessons. He had a serious bearing and his rare scholarship always inspired respect in students. While teaching mathematics - this was his favourite subject throughout his life - he solved even the most complicated examples orally without writing anything on the board. No wonder that the average student was left breathless by this method on a number of occasions. As could be expected Tilak abhorred the drudgery of assessing papers and correcting exercises - the bane of many a

teacher. There was a slight curtness about his manner, and students always respected him for his learning, but generally dared not develop an intimacy with him. Agarkar, on the other hand, had a pleasant sense of humour, a knack of making the lesson interesting and of inspiring confidence among students. Apte was a born teacher, known for his precision and always picked up the intelligent students. To him goes the credit for establishing discipline in the New English School and for the academic distinction won by many students. There were also other teachers, who might not be said to have had the same consciousness of their mission, but who carried out their duties in school with great earnestness and zeal.

The Lion Roars The urge of an idealist always prompts him to go to “fresh fields and pastures new”. Though he is deeply attached to the work undertaken, the horizons of his mind are ever-widening and he is always finding new causes which would completely absorb his energies. Chiplunkar, Tilak and Agarkar were proud of the ever-growing success of the New English School, but their imaginative minds could not be pent up within the four walls of a school. To them the school was only one of the projects in the programme for popular education. They wanted to influence the impressionable minds of students who would catch the spirit of idealism far more quickly than the elders. But they also wanted to enlighten the people at large by telling them of the shape of things to come and inspiring in them a desire to shape their own destinies. Chiplunkar, who wielded a forceful pen, had made his Nibandh-Mala an instrument of people’s education. Tilak and Agarkar also knew the power of the press and as a result, the idea of starting an independent newspaper took possession of their minds. They thought it was only through a newspaper that they could work as educators of public opinion and thus carry on their self- appointed work as teachers in a wider field. It was ultimately decided to launch two newspapers, the Kesari, to be edited in Marathi, and the Mahratta to be edited in English. There was some interesting discussion about the names of the papers. Vishnushastri said that the Marathi paper should be named Vikram (Prowess). It was but natural that Vishnushastri, who looked upon the pen as a sword, should suggest thus. Tilak, however, made the alternative suggestion that it should be named Kesari The Lion and it was approved by all. The name, Mahratta, was entirely Vishnushastri’s choice. The first announcement about the Kesari was drafted by Tilak and it was published in the Native Opinion of Bombay. It read as follows: “KESARI”

“Oh my friend, lord of the elephant herd, with eyes blinded by intoxication, do not for a moment stay here in this bushy forest-land; for here in the mountain- cave sleeps the lion who tears huge rocks with his terrible paws, mistaking them for elephants.”2 “The undersigned have decided to start a newspaper with the above name (Kesari), entirely in Marathi, to be published every Tuesday from the beginning of the coming year (1881). The newspaper will contain the usual features - news of political events, commercial information, etc. - and besides there would be articles on the condition of the people, reviews of newly published books and such other topics. It is also intended to give a summary of the political happenings discussed in England, as it is necessary that people here should understand them. It may be said that the three above-mentioned topics, viz. conditions in this country, books in our language and political events in England, have not been adequately discussed in any of the newspapers so far. We have decided to make good this deficiency. “We are determined to discuss every subject in an impartial manner, and in the light of what we think to be true. There is undoubtedly a growing tendency towards flattery under the British rule, and all honest people would admit that this tendency is undesirable and is detrimental to the interests of the people. The articles in the proposed newspaper will be in keeping with the name given to it. “The newspaper will have the form and size of The Subodh Patrika. The subscription is comparatively low, one Rupee per year (to be paid in advance) and ten annas more for postal expenses. In the end, we request our countrymen to extend their generous support to this new venture in public interest. Their growing support would encourage us and we shall spare no pains in accomplishing the task undertaken. Vishnu Krishna Chiplunkar, B.A. Bal Gangadhar Tilak, B.A., LL.B.

Vaman Shivram Apte, M.A. Ganesh Krishna Garde, L.M. & S. Gopal Ganesh Agarkar, B.A. Mahadeo Ballal Namioshi.” There were in Maharashtra three or four newspapers at the time; but none of them could boast of a mission. They were commercial enterprises and there was hardly any editorial policy governing them. The starting of the Kesari opened a new chapter in the annals of Marathi journalism. The circular about the Kesari did not describe the aims and objects in a glowing language, but Chiplunkar and his colleagues were confident that they would be wielding a powerful weapon, which would dispel darkness and create a new vigour in society. The title Kesari (The Lion) was indicative of the mood of the editors, who knew that their roaring would arouse a slumbering society and would strike terror in the hearts of their opponents. Namjoshi, known for his practical abilities, was mainly responsible for securing a printing press. It had to be removed to Morobadada’s Wada, a building in Budhwar Peth, and Tilak afterwards recalled with good humour how he carried the boxes, containing the type, on his shoulders. Little did he know then that he would have to carry the entire burden of the Kesari on his shoulders after a few years. It is also interesting to note that though he had lent his whole-hearted support to the new enterprise, Tilak was the least eager to write. Chiplunkar, who called himself the Shivaji of the Marathi language, looked upon the pen as a lash or more properly a sword. To him writing was an opportunity to overwhelm his opponents by the onslaught of stirring ideas and stinging words. Agarkar was always fond of writing and had won prizes for essays written during his college days. Tilak, however, was generally a man of few words, whose attitude was scholarly and whose main interest was Mathematics. He had not as yet developed a taste for journalistic writing, though he fully realized the importance of the part played by the press as an instrument of popular education. It was decided that Tilak should be the editor of the Mahratta and Agarkar should be in charge of the Kesari. The first issue of the Kesari was published on the 4th of January 1881. In the leading article, newspapers were compared to night-watchmen, keeping the executive officers in wholesome fear of public opinion and the example of

England was quoted as a country where through the instrumentality of the Press no injustice remained unexposed. There was also a declaration that the Kesari would strive to bring about an improvement in social conditions by frankly telling the people of the harmful and wrong ways they pursued. It was also observed that the Kesari would mainly cater to the needs of “the mass of ignorant people who have generally no idea of what passes around them and who, therefore, must be given a knowledge of such topics as concern their everyday life, through articles on subjects of literary, social, political, moral and economic interest.” The writings in the Kesari were, therefore, written in a direct and simple style and the editor never lost sight of the main purpose of moulding people’s view. The Mahratta, the English weekly, was intended to serve another purpose. It was mainly intended for the more advanced portion of the community, who require to be provided with material for thinking intelligently on the important topics of the day. The Mahratta wanted to express the views and voice the aspirations of the enlightened section of Maharashtrian society to the government, the English public and the intelligentsia in other Indian provinces. In the editorial written in the first issue of Mahratta, the aims and the objectives were stated as follows: “Our true primary duty will be to interpret, petition and instruct, and advocacy may be said to form the second part of our real work.” The Mahratta, therefore, discussed comprehensively problems of high political significance, dealt with issues of ideological significance and published extracts from foreign and Indian journals on current topics. In its first issue of Sunday the 2nd January 1881, the editor stressed the need for combating the evils of British administration such as oppressive taxation, costly government machinery and extirpation of local industry and native aristocracy. The Arms Act and the Press Gagging Act were also severely criticised. The success of the Kesari and the Mahratta was almost phenomenal. The Kesari had the largest circulation among the vernacular papers of the country and the Mahratta was also acknowledged as the leading organ of native political thought in Maharashtra. This prestige of the Kesari and the Mahratta was due to the dignified manner in which the papers were conducted. The writings were impassioned and powerful and the opinions expressed on different topics always displayed the courage of conviction. The patriotic sentiment which pervaded all the writings in the Kesari and the Mahratta, the expression given to the repressed urges of the people and the efforts to mould public opinion in the right direction

- all these earned for the Kesari and the Mahratta a place of unique distinction in the social and political life of Maharashtra. All the contributors to the Kesari had strong personalities and every article bore the distinct stamp of the personality of its writer. Chiplunkar’s articles were rhetorical in strain and expressed boldly audacious views on a number of topics. He had strong prejudices and strong preferences, as the result of which, his views were almost always extremist. He excelled in pungent criticism and his articles on literary subjects have a permanent place in Marathi literature. Tilak wrote on religion and law. His style was precise, direct and forceful. His writings were interspersed with appropriate Sanskrit quotations, but there was little embellishment in his style. The article on “Boycott” written in the seventh issue of Kesari discusses the political, social and religious significance of the boycott in a detached and logical manner. It is evident that the article has come from the pen of Tilak whose study of Hindu law and of modern constitutional law was almost without a parallel among his contemporaries. Agarkar’s articles could be distinguished by his social criticism, broad humour and reference to English writers. He generally wrote on history, economics and on social problems. 1881 was the year of experiment and the novelty of it was indeed very thrilling. To young and inexperienced writers, the pleasures of the pen are an excitement and many a time they fall in love with their own words. During this stage, to the young writer the authorship of an article is sometimes more important than its contents. With the exception of Vishnushastri, the editors of the Kesari were novices in the field of journalism and though they were conscious of their mission, they must have passed through this natural state of mind of young writers. As the result of this, the differences of opinion only led to discussions, and heated though they were, there was no touch of bitterness about them.

Liberty in Dungeon Progressive as the Kesari and the Mahratta, were, one must not lose sight of the fact that the concept of progress changes from generation to generation. What was progressive one day might appear reactionary the next. Progressive, therefore, is not an epithet which could be used in an absolute sense. In politics, in particular, the situation is ever-changing and judgments have to be altered in order to keep pace with the changing situation. During this period, the Indian states were looked upon as relics of the glories of a bygone age and patriotic Indians spoke of the states and their rulers with affection and pride. In the first editorial of the Mahratta on the 2nd January 1881, there is the following unequivocal declaration in favour of the states: “With reference to the native states our policy will always be for the uninterfered continuance of such states.” Further, the following editorial comment was made on the speech of Lord Ripon: “If Lord Ripon is serious in his purpose of reforming the government of native chiefs, he must first set about reforming the political agents and try to give constitutional government to the native states.” It was evident that the editors of the Kesari and the Mahratta looked upon the States as oases in the desert of enslaved India. They probably hoped to revive the past tradition through the states and held that the princes were the symbols of a tradition which was fast disappearing owing to the onslaught of British rule. The leaders of India therefore, had a great affinity with the Indian princes and wanted to protect their interests from the tyrannies of the Residents. Dadabhai Naoroji, as Dewan of Baroda, had championed the cause of Mulharrao Gaekwar, the ruler of Baroda from 1872 to 1875 and in fighting against all sorts of political intrigues had, at last resigned. The memory of Dadabhai’s heroic fight against the Resident on behalf of the Baroda Chief and of the support lent by Ranade through the Sarvajanik Sabha was fresh in the minds of the editors of the Kesari and time was not far when they took up cudgels on behalf of a ruler in a similar manner. There arose, at this time, a provoking and complicated situation in Kolhapur. The gadi of Kolhapur had a special significance for the people of Maharashtra as the rulers of Kolhapur were the direct descendants of the great Shivaji. How powerful this sentimental attachment was, could only be understood in the light of the fact that even today a number of people deplore the merger of Kolhapur with the rest of India.

Shri Shivaji, the Maharaja of Kolhapur, ascended the gadi in 1871. In later years, rigorous checks and restrictions were imposed on him, as it was made out by official quarters that the Raja was losing his mind. From the editorial comments and correspondence in the Kesari and the Mahratta, people appeared to believe that there was an intrigue against the Raja in order to dethrone him on the ground of alleged insanity and that the maltreatment of young Shivaji Maharaj was part of the devilish conspiracy in which Rao Bahadur V. M. Barve, the Minister of Kolhapur, the dowager queen and the keepers of the Maharaja- Green and Cox — were the abettors. In a leading article in the Mahratta of the 27th November 1881, Shivaji Maharaj is spoken of as an Indian Hamlet persecuted by the Claudius of a Minister. Certain letters purporting to have been written by Rao Bahadur Barve, which were published in a Poona paper, were reprinted in the Mahratta on the 8th January 1882. From these letters the plight of the Maharaja became known to the people and the suggestion that even his life was not safe gave rise to great public indignation. Rao Bahadur Barve instituted in January 1882, legal proceedings against the editors of the Kesari and the Mahratta — Agarkar and Tilak, for “wicked and malicious defamation”. The allegations made against Barve were based on certain letters which were believed to be genuine. In the court, however, the letters were proved to be ingenious forgeries and therefore the accusations against Barve could not be substantiated. Tilak and Agarkar, therefore, accepted the only course open to gentlemen under such circumstances, viz. of tendering an unreserved apology. The legal proceedings were, however, continued and Tilak and Agarkar were sentenced to four month’s rigorous imprisonment. Though the articles in question were not written by either of them, Tilak and Agarkar accepted all responsibility in matter and suffered the consequences. In spite of the judgment of the court, people were convinced of the fact that Tilak and Agarkar had no personal malice against Barve, nor were they interested in publishing sensational material. Particularly the statement made by Dr. Murphy in the court that it was necessary to whip the Raja of Kolhapur was enough to throw light on the pathetic condition of the ruler, and people felt that Tilak and Agarkar had championed a just and worthy cause. Funds were voluntarily raised and the punishment given by the court, instead of casting a slur on the character of Tilak and Agarkar, only enhanced their prestige. The final curtain on the Kolhapur episode was dropped in a most unfortunate

manner when Shivaji Maharaj died in Ahmednagar fort on the 25th December 1883, in the most suspicious circumstances. After this incident the sullen tone of the Kesari expressed in the leading article in the issue of the 22nd January 1884, was characteristic of the popular feeling: “We are so thoroughly disgusted with the whole incident that it would be better if we no more hear of Green with reference to the unfortunate ruler.... When one sees before one’s mind’s eye, the terrible night of the 25th October, the imprisonment of the Maharaja of Kolhapur in Ahmednagar fort, his frantic desperation as no affectionate person was near, his squabble with the bullying Green, one becomes restless and disappointed. When one considers the obstinate persistence of the Bombay Government in the cruel treatment meted out to the Maharaja, one realises the truth of the saying that, “The way to hell is paved with good intentions.” Tilak and Agarkar were sent to Dongri prison near Bombay to suffer their term of imprisonment. To Tilak this was but the beginning of many harder and longer terms of imprisonment which he had to undergo in later life. In those days, political prisoners were not treated as a separate class and Tilak and Agarkar were given the treatment of ‘C’ class convicts. The conditions in jail were appalling and the food, in particular, was very coarse. These two young men, however, were quite unmindful of the hardships they were suffering and spent their time in prolonged discussions. Jail life is in many respects beneficial, as it affords an opportunity for introspection and fresh thinking, which are not possible when one is engrossed in public life. Through their discussions in college days, Tilak and Agarkar had realised their temperamental differences and the different emphasis which they wanted to place on the different aspects of life. At that time, however, their discussions had an academic and theoretical interest; but their discussions at Dongri were carried on, on a different level. Tilak and Agarkar had now started the struggle for the realisation of their ideal, and through this struggle was coming the realisation of their own selves. The strifes and the trials through which these two young men were passing tested their mettle and moulded their points of view. Both of them withstood the trials, but the impact of environment on their personalities gave rise to different reactions. To them the struggle for the realisation of their ideal was assuming different shapes and each one felt that he was treading in the right direction. This was, however, the period of co-suffering when divergent opinions never developed into antagonistic points of view.

Agarkar was feeling the urgency of social reform very intensely and though Tilak shared many of his views, he felt that it was not desirable to hurt people at that stage as such a step might create difficulties in their efforts to bring about a complete change. Their political views were, however, identical and a clue to them can be found in Agarkar’s fine book “101 Days in Dongri Prison.” Tilak lost twenty-four Ibs. and Agarkar sixteen Ibs. during four months of prison life. When Tilak and Agarkar were released from prison they were given a tremendous ovation. Over two thousand people awaited the young heroes at the prison-gates and brought them to the city in a procession. A warm reception was also given to them by the citizens of Poona and there were public meetings held in their honour. Tilak’s public life had begun only recently and he experienced for the first time the love of the common people, which was later to make him Lokmanya — the accredited leader of the people. Immediately after the prosecution, Uravane, an eminent merchant in Poona, offered Rs. 5,000 as bail even though he did not know Tilak personally. The friendship, thus sprung in the hour of suffering, became a bond throughout the life of both of them. The first term of imprisonment, suffered by Tilak, won for him a place in the hearts of the people and also earned the goodwill of the Princes for the Deccan Education Society. Prof. C. G. Bhanu has vividly described the scene at the station when Tilak and Agarkar were accorded a reception: “The verdict of the court went against these two young and inexperienced patriots and as a consequence they were sent to prison. But as a result, people became affectionately proud of them. When these two young heroes came out of jail, forty students of the Deccan College — and I was one of these — went to meet them at Kirkee station. That was the first occasion on which I had the privilege of shaking hands with Tilak and talking to him. When we saw them, there were cheers all round and overwhelmed with love for them tears rushed to our eyes. I also attended the public reception at Poona. Tilak had grown weak and yet there was a distinct ring about his voice. ‘The key to our progress is the education of our people,’ that was the burden of Tilak’s song.” Tilak had thus come out of his first ordeal, vanquished and yet the victor. A little suffering makes many persons cautious in their future undertakings, but to a hero it is only the first round of a fight, which he is determined to fight to the finish. Tilak’s first term of imprisonment, only intensified his idealism and evoked in him a more courageous response than before to the stark reality. While

pursuing an ideal one naturally looks up to one’s comrades in arms for support. But parting sometimes becomes inevitable and however unpleasant it is, one has to bear it patiently. Sometimes it is the obstinacy of man which leads to the parting and sometimes the hand of destiny. Tilak and his colleagues suffered this terrible stroke of destiny when Vishnushastri Chiplunkar died of a sudden illness on the 17th March 1882. Vishnushastri was the oldest among the founders of the New English School, though he was only 32 when he died. He had unswerving ambition and the fervour of his energies and his tremendous intellectual exuberance made him the acclaimed leader in a number of enterprises. His premature death was a calamity for his colleagues; it came as a set-back to the institutions he had started; it was a great loss to public life in Maharashtra and above all, it meant an impoverishment of Marathi literature. Stunned though his colleagues were by this terrible stroke of ill luck, they knew that the only homage they could pay to their departed friend and guide was to carry on with the tasks he had undertaken. The obituary article in the Mabratta of the 21st March 1882 reads: “Our good friends sometimes used to call the five of us in jest by the name of Graduate-Quintette or Graduate Pandavas. Cruel death has carried to his domain our eldest brother, Dharma; the head-bead of the string is lost. But we are hopeful that our firm and deliberate resolve to strive to elevate our country will not relax.... We feel that our courage and sense of duty are on trial. So long as even a single one of us is at his post of duty, he will do his level best to carry forward without intermission the undertaking on which we embarked in common.” And the colleagues of Chiplunkar lived up to their words. After a time they found themselves at different posts of duty one in the political sphere, the other in the social sphere and yet they stood firm like mariners facing all storms with equanimity. At this stage, however, they all held together because there was a growing realisation of the significance of the work in the sphere of education.

Towards a Peaceful Revolution A cause, the significance of which is dimly comprehended at the beginning, unfolds itself in all its magnitude in later stages. Tilak and his colleagues had started the New English School with missionary zeal but it would only be realistic to say that they might have had only a vague idea of some of the educational problems. They were, however, so completely absorbed in their work that within a short time they developed a rare insight into all the aspects of education. It would be unfair to give credit for this to anyone in particular. They were working as a team and each supplied what others lacked. Agarkar’s imaginative outlook, Tilak’s legal acumen, Namjoshi’s shrewd commonsense and Apte’s methodical approach — this was enough equipment to master any problem. There must have been prolonged discussions, heated debates, sharp differences and out of all this an agreed formula may have evolved. This we find in Apte’s evidence before the Education Commission, presided over by William Wilson Hunter. The views expressed in the evidence are a clue to the broad vision and the comprehensive grasp of the educational problems which the pioneer educationists in Maharashtra had. Apte placed these views before the Commission on behalf of the conductors of the New English School on the 9th September 1882, while Agarkar and Tilak were still in prison. In order to understand the full significance of the views expressed in the evidence it is necessary to refer to the circumstances in which the Education Commission was appointed. The Christian missionaries had started an agitation in England and India, that the educational administration of India was not in keeping with the original principles of the Government of India. Their complaints were that the officials were competing with missionary institutions and that the educational institutions of government were godless and irreligious. The problems that the Commission was the called upon to decide were (i) the role of government institutions in the educational system of India ; (ii) the relation of government to private enterprise; and (iii) the place of missionary efforts in Indian education.3 On all these topics Apte’s evidence shows a comprehensive grasp of the problems and the valuable suggestions he made clearly evince his educational vision. His views are the collective views of the founders of the Deccan Education

Society. Apte made a strong plea for an indigenous agency for educational effort, after voicing apprehension at the prospect of education passing into the hands of missionaries, because he feared that education to the missionary was only a means to conversion.

The Fergusson College The idea of starting a college, though mentioned publicly for the first time in the evidence before the Education Commission, had been lurking in the minds of Tilak and his colleagues almost from the starting of the New English School. In fact, when, after passing his LL.B. examination, Tilak decided to dedicate himself to educational work, the idea of starling a private college was foremost in his mind. Practical consideration, however, prevailed and The New English School’ was first started. Though Tilak did his duty as a teacher with unquestioned sincerity and devotion, the capacities of his intellect could not be confined within the four walls of the school. He must have longed therefore for the freer regions of a college which would give greater scope to his talents. He could work with sincerity in the New English School because it was a social duty, and although there was no scope here to satisfy all his intellectual capacities, it satisfied his moral urge. Teaching in a college, however, could satisfy all his higher urges - intellectual, moral and social - and, therefore, when the idea of starting a college was mooted, he was found to be its most ardent supporter. The idea soon took concrete shape. They did not have to go far in search of a teaching staff with the proper aptitude and requisite qualifications, for no better team than Tilak, Agarkar, Apte, Kelkar and Gole could be found. The young aspiring minds of Tilak and his colleagues were experiencing the vastness of the new horizon which was almost in sight. New plans were made, different ideas were discussed, new challenges were accepted and fresh thrills were awaited. Life was a quest for higher ideals and a strife for nobler aims. The starting of the college was an adventure, academic as well as social. Tilak and his colleagues were never in doubt about their academic abilities, but to make the enterprise a practical reality, public support was necessary. To them the New English School and the proposed college were public institutions and not proprietary concerns. They knew that this was but the beginning of the educational effort in Maharashtra and with a view to ensuring the continuity of that effort, it was desirable that they should form themselves into a corporate body and constitute a Board of Trustees with a managing committee attached to it. It was, therefore, decided to form a society before starting the college. The constitution of the proposed society was discussed with a number of friends and when the spade- work was over, a meeting of a number of people interested in the cause of

education was called in Gadre Wada, in Poona, on 24th October 1884. This meeting was presided over by Sir William Wedderburn, and a number of eminent persons like M. G. Ranade, Dr. R. G. Bhandarkar, Rao Bahadur S. P. Pandit and Sardar Coopoo-swami Mudaliar were present. Sir William Wedderburn congratulated the founders of the New English School on the important advances they were making after having brought their institution to a high degree of efficiency by their steady and self-denying labours. The resolution read: “That as the managers of the New English School and other sympathisers with private education think it desirable to have a society to promote the cause of private education and to put it on a more extended basis in order to give permanence to it, it is desirable that a society should be established for the aforesaid purpose, and that it be called Deccan Education Society.” Apte made an impassioned plea for the cause of private independent education, adapted to the needs of the community and so cheapened as to come within the reach of children of even the lower middle class. A statement made on the occasion highlights clarity of vision shown by the pioneers. It reads: “We have undertaken this work of popular education with the firmest conviction and belief that of all agents of human civilization, education is the only one that brings about material, moral and religious regeneration of fallen countries and raises them up to the level of the most advanced nations by slow and peaceful revolutions.”4 Under the constitution proposed for the society, all their institutions were to be placed under the supervision of the Council, a body with which some of the most respected Indian and European gentlemen were to be associated. Tilak moved the resolution regarding the personnel of the society and Bhandarkar moved the proposition for adopting the rules and regulations. The formation of the Deccan Education Society was a great achievement as it removed the two defects in private educational enterprises, viz. want of corporate organisation and a consequent lack of guarantees of permanence. The association of eminent persons like Ranade, Bhandarkar and Telang with the Deccan Education Society, right at the inception, shows the goodwill earned by the founders of the New English School by their earnestness, zeal and sacrifice. The enterprise, which some sceptical minds dubbed as an adventurist undertaking, which would vanish like a bubble, proved to be an ardent effort of patriotic young men who showed the capacity to fight against all odds and

inspired confidence even in the most conservative and cautious minds. The appeal for financial support got an immediate response from all sections of society. His Highness, Shri Chhatrapati Shahu Maharaj of Kolhapur became the first President of the Society. The championing of the cause of the Native States by the Kesari and the Mahratta and the imprisonment which Agarkar and Tilak had suffered, had won the support of many Princes in Maharashtra to the cause of the Deccan Education Society. Among the patrons were a number of Europeans like Sir James Fergusson, Principal Wordsworth, Prof. Selby and even the Marquis of Ripon, the retiring Governor-General of India. The Society, above all, relied on the support of the intelligentsia and the middle class who would be directly benefited by its activities. Agarkar expressed this confidence about getting popular support in the following words in an article in the Kesari: “We shall reveal this mystery of the Fergusson College. But our readers should then be on their guard, for we would not be responsible if their purses should then empty themselves into the treasury of the Deccan Education Society.” The educational policy of Sir James Fergusson was liberal. He had shown great appreciation of the disinterested endeavour of the promoters of the New English School and as a symbol of his admiration had given a personal donation of Rs. 1,250 to it. It is interesting to note that the Kesari and Mahratta, while appreciating this sympathetic attitude to the cause of private education, at the same time strongly criticised his conservative policy in the sphere of local self- government. The editors of the Kesari and the Mahratta, never mixed up issues and therefore an appreciation of Sir James’s liberal policy in the educational sphere did not prevent them from lashing out at his reactionary policies in the political sphere. To some, it appeared a contradiction and to their more loyalist contemporaries it appeared almost as ingratitude. Tilak and Agarkar had, however, a deep understanding of the complexities of public life and in the expression of their views they discussed policies and not personalities. As promoters of an educational institution, they were keen to earn the goodwill of all, and as editors, they were always vigilant of the rights of the people. They would never have compromised their principles as editors in order to serve the interests of their educational institution. They were not proprietors who would try to ensure the success of their institution by any means, but life-members of a society, that had pledged itself to serve the nation through education. To them the cause was more important than the institution and they would never dissociate education from the entire plan for educating the people. They knew

full well that a compromise in one sphere would deprive them of the right to work in the other sphere. This firm adherence to principles requires people of exceptional grit and Tilak and Agarkar proved that they were people of this stamp. The formalities of securing the consent of Sir James Fergusson and recognition by the University of Bombay were gone through. The Senate of the University of Bombay on the recommendation of the Syndicate recognised the college provisionally for three years. A portion of the Gadre Wada, a building in the heart of Poona city, was to be temporarily used for housing the college classes until a new building was constructed. The Gadre Wada was at one time owned by Mr. Gadre, a well-known savkar of the days of the Peshwas. It was then bought by the Gaekwars of Baroda and in 1884 the owner of the wada was the Princess of Baroda who was married to the Prince of Sawantwadi. Tilak was delegated to secure it and in order to secure the good offices of an influential person, who enjoyed the confidence of the Maharani of Baroda, Tilak had to spend a number of days and use all his diplomatic talent. The mission was at last successful. As the preparations for the college went on, generous donations came from all quarters and by the end of 1884, Rs. 75,000 had been promised. On the 2nd January 1885, the Fergusson College was inaugurated by Prin. William Wordsworth, grandson of the poet. It was indeed a great event not only for Maharashtra but also for India.5 The new college was a symbol of the growing aspirations of the Indians who, owing to the contact with the West, were growing conscious of the new values of life necessary for modern times. Sir William Wedderburn in requesting Prin. Wordsworth to do the Deccan Education Society “the honour of formally onening the new college” expressed the hope that “this college will ever prove worthy in spirit of the auspices under which it now commences, and that in future days it will become not only a centre of intellectual energy but also a home of sweetness and light”. Sir James Fergusson in a speech highly appropriate to the occasion, dwelt at great length on the significance of the new college and observed: “There is no social fact without its political side; and the opening of such a college as this under the present circumstances and prospects of India is unquestionably of great political importance”. Gadre Wada in which Fergusson College was housed was rather an old- fashioned place for a college and did not look very in spiring. If stone wall do not

make a prison, neither do they build an academic institution. The very stones can, however, imbibe the spirit of the inmates. The professors of Fergusson College, too, cared little for appearances. In keeping with Maharashtrian tradition, it was the spirit and not the form that they cared for. They dressed simply and never showed off their learning. Prin. Apte taught Sanskrit, Tilak taught mathematics and Sanskrit, Kelkar was a professor of English and Gole taught physics. Agarkar was a Professor of history and logic. The change-over from school to the college was most welcome to these academicians as they were in their own element here. In his student days it was Tilak’s ambition “to start a college immediately after leaving college”. The ambition at last materialised with the difference that instead of a fresh graduate pouring out in his lectures what he had read for the last University examination, students found in Tilak a scholar with a sharp analytical mind, intent on taking the students to the fundamentals of the subject. He was always measured in speech and his treatment of his subject was very precise. He had, however, one defect, viz. he presupposed many things and was, therefore, always inclined to solve a problem quickly, sometimes even orally without mentioning the steps in between. The average student was, therefore, flabbergasted though for the more intelligent student, it was a treat to follow Tilak’s original method of solving many problems. G. K. Gadgil, Bar-at-Law, wrote: “My friends in Fergusson College complained that they found it difficult to follow the lectures of Prof. Tilak, whose memory was prolific and whose intelligence had a great sweep. He explained even the examples on the Binomial Theorem in Algebra orally while he asked some students to write the steps on the blackboard. We respected Prof. Tilak for his scholarship in Maths, even more than we did Professor Hathawornthwet.” Tilak also taught Sanskrit, and his lectures on Bhartrihari’s Nitishatak, were very stimulating owing to his analytical faculty and preoccupation with the ethical problems of life. Prof. M. M. Joshi, who was a student of Tilak both at school and college observed: “Prof. Tilak was the best teacher for M.A. and not for lower classes. He cared little for presentation and more for fundamentals.” Govind Sakharam Sardesai, the great historian, was a student of Tilak and pleasantly recalls memories of his teacher: “Tilak while teaching permutations and combinations gave illustrations from everyday life and made the subject very interesting. We were very much impressed with his minute observation. He was never reluctant to solve the difficulties of students. After the college was over, on