A Growing Spirit of Sacrifice

Before I proceed with my narrative the struggle for the Indian settlers’ rights in the Transvaal and of the dealings with the Asiatic Department, I must turn to some other aspects of my life.

Before I continue my account of the struggle for Indian settlers’ rights in the Transvaal and my dealings with the Asiatic Department, I must turn to other aspects of my life.

Up to now there had been in me a mixed desire. The spirit of self-sacrifice was tempered by the desire to lay by something for the future.

Until then, I had mixed desires. My desire to sacrifice for others was tempered by my desire to save something for the future.

About the time I took up chambers in Bombay, an American insurance agent had come there—a man with a pleasing countenance and a sweet tongue. As though we were old friends he discussed with me matters for my future welfare. ‘All men of your status in America have their lives insured. Should you not also insure yourself against the future? Life is uncertain. We in America regard it as a religious obligation to get insured. Can I not tempt you to take out a small policy?’

Around the time I opened a law office in Bombay, an American insurance agent came to the city. He had a pleasant face and spoke charmingly. As if we were old friends, he talked to me about my future well-being. ‘All men of your status in America have life insurance. Shouldn’t you also insure yourself for the future? Life is uncertain. We in America consider it a religious duty to get insured. Can’t I tempt you to take out a small policy?’

Up to this time I had given the cold shoulder to all the agents I had met in South Africa and India, for I had thought that life assurance implied fear and want of faith in God. But now I succumbed to the temptation of the American agent. As he proceeded with his argument, I had before my mind’s eye a picture of my wife and children. ‘Man, you have sold almost all the ornaments of your wife,’ I said to myself. ‘If something were to happen to you, the burden of supporting her and the children would fall on your poor brother who has so nobly filled the place of father. How would that become you?’ With these and similar arguments I persuaded myself to take out a policy for Rs. 10,000.

Until then, I had turned away all the insurance agents I met in South Africa and India. I believed that life insurance showed fear and a lack of faith in God. But now I gave in to the American agent’s persuasion. As he made his case, I pictured my wife and children. ‘Man, you have sold almost all of your wife’s ornaments,’ I said to myself. ‘If something were to happen to you, your poor brother would have to support her and the children. He has so nobly taken the place of your father. How could you let that burden fall on him?’ With these and similar arguments, I persuaded myself to take out a policy for Rs. 10,000.

But the changed mode of my life in South Africa altered my outlook. All the steps I took at this time of trial were taken in the name of God and for His service. I did not know how long I should have to stay in South Africa. I had a fear that I might never be able to get back to India, and so I had decided that I should have my wife and children with me, and no longer impose separation upon them, and that I should earn enough to support them. This train of reasoning made me deplore the life policy, and feel ashamed of having been caught in the net of the insurance agent. If, I said to myself, my brother is really in the position of my father, surely he would not consider it too much of a burden to support my widow, if it came to that. And what reason had I to assume that death would claim me earlier than the others? After all the real protector was neither I nor my brother, but the Almighty. In getting my life insured I had robbed my wife and children of their self-reliance. Why should they not be expected to take care of themselves? What happened to the families of the numberless poor in the world? Why should I not count myself as one of them?

But my changed way of life in South Africa altered my outlook. During this time of trial, I took every step in God’s name and in his service. I did not know how long I would have to stay in South Africa. I feared that I might never be able to return to India. So I decided to bring my wife and children to live with me. I would no longer force them to live apart from me, and I would earn enough to support them. This reasoning made me regret my life insurance policy. I felt ashamed that I had fallen into the insurance agent’s trap. I said to myself that if my brother truly stood in my father’s place, he would surely support my widow. He would not consider her too much of a burden if it came to that. And why should I assume that I would die before the others? After all, the real protector was neither my brother nor I, but the Almighty. By insuring my life, I had robbed my wife and children of their self-reliance. Why should they not be expected to take care of themselves? What happened to the families of the countless poor people in the world? Why should I not count myself as one of them?

A multitude of thoughts passed through my mind, but I did not immediately act upon them. I recollect having paid at least one insurance premium in South Africa.

Many thoughts crossed my mind, but I did not act on them right away. I remember paying at least one insurance premium in South Africa.

But outward circumstances too supported this train of thought. During my first sojourn in South Africa it had been Christian influence that had kept alive in me the religious sense. Now it was the Theosophical influence that added strength to it. Mr. Ritch was a Theosophist, and he put me in touch with the Society at Johannesburg. I never became a member of it, as I had my differences, but I came in close contact with almost every Theosophist. I had religious discussions with them every day. There used to be readings from Theosophical books and sometimes I had occasions to address their meetings. The chief thing about Theosophy is to cultivate and promote the idea of brotherhood. We had considerable discussion over this, and I criticised the members where their conduct did not appear to me to square with their ideal. The criticism was not without its wholesome effect on me. It led to self-introspection.

But circumstances around me also supported this way of thinking. During my first stay in South Africa, Christian influence had kept my religious sense alive. Now Theosophical influence strengthened it. Mr. Ritch was a Theosophist, and he put me in touch with the Society in Johannesburg. I never became a member because I had my differences with the Society. But I came into close contact with almost every Theosophist. I discussed religion with them every day. There were readings from Theosophical books, and sometimes I had opportunities to speak at their meetings. The main aim of Theosophy is to cultivate and promote the idea of brotherhood. We discussed this idea at length. I criticized members whose conduct, in my view, did not match their ideal. My criticism also had a beneficial effect on me. It led me to examine myself.