roved the close
relationship between Sanskrit and English, had rendered more valuable
service to the Government of India than many a regiment. This may be
called a mere assertion, and it is true that it cannot be proved
mathematically, but what could have induced a man like Lord Derby to
make such a statement, except the sense of its truth produced on his
mind by long experience?

However, I can only speak for myself, and of my idea of work. I felt
satisfied when my work led me to a new discovery, whether it was the
discovery of a new continent of thought, or of the smallest desert
island in the vast ocean of truth. I would gladly go so far as to try
to convince my friends by a simple statement of facts. Let them follow
the same course and see whether I was right or wrong. But to make
propaganda, to attempt to persuade by bringing pressure to bear, to
canvass and to organize, to found societies, to start new journals, to
call meetings and have them reported in the papers, has always been to
me very much against the grain. If we know some truth, what does it
matter whether a few millions, more or less, see the truth as we see
it? Truth is truth, whether it is accepted now or in millions of
years. Truth is in no hurry, at least it always seemed to me so. When
face to face with a man, or a body of men, who would not be convinced,
I never felt inclined to run my head against a stone wall, or to
become an advocate and use the tricks of a lawyer. I have often been
blamed for it, I have sometimes even regretted my indolence or my
quiet happiness, when I felt that truth was on my side and by my side.
I suppose there is no harm in personal canvassing, but as much as I
disliked being canvassed, did I feel it degrading to canvass others. I
know quite well how often it happened at a meeting when either a
measure or a candidate was to be carried, that the voters had
evidently been spoken to privately beforehand, had in the conscience
of their heart promised their votes. The facts and arguments at the
meeting itself might all be on one side, but the majority was in
favour of the other. Men whose time was of little value had been round
from house to house, a majority had been compacted into an inert
unreasoning mass; and who would feel inclined to use his spade of
reason against so much unreason? Some people, more honest than the
rest, after the mischief was done, would say, "Why did you not call?
why did you not write letters?" I ma