Another thing. I allowed no bunyas or money-lenders about. These are another set of leeches, who suck the life blood of the poor in the shape of interest on money advanced on the crops, at from one hundred to two hundred per cent. profit. I have often wondered that a government, half civilized or even a quarter enlightened, should not pass a law against this accursed system of usury, and so protect the poor from wholesale robbery. These harpies are worse than thieves, for they plunder under protection of government, and can collect their extortionate demands by means of law, and in the government courts. I found that several of these fat sleek fellows paid regular visits to my villages, and I well knew from the nature of these animals that they did not go without a purpose. One day I called the ryots together and discovered that a number of them were paying from fifty to one hundred per cent. for loans—a profit to these extortioners that not a mercantile man of Calcutta, or his wicked partner, hardened though they be, would expect. I made a list of the names, with the amounts. I told them that I wanted all this borrowing stopped at once. I drew up a paper, and said that I would advance the sums they had borrowed, without any interest, on condition that they would make their marks on the paper promising never to borrow from the bunyas again. And they all agreed and signed. I got no interest, but received what was better, the good will of these poor men. I advised them to wear their rags, and live on weeds, rather than go in debt. I loaned them money, but at the same time I tried to give them a lesson in political economy. I gave not only one talk, but repeated it. The result was excellent. In a couple of years there was not a man in the villages who owed a rupee. They had a pride about this, for knowing my feelings, it became a disgrace for a man to borrow, and any one was marked when he went into debt. I got a good deal of pleasure out of this in the hatred of the bunya tribe. Another thing I noticed. Before my improvements and the new regime, the people went to different melas to see the tamashas, for however low and poor a people are, they will have their pleasures. I have read this somewhere. “One way of getting an idea of our fellow men’s miseries is to go and look at their pleasures.” I have often thought of this when seeing the simple trifling amusements of the millions of India people at a mela. How narrow and empty the minds that could take any pleasure in what they enjoy! My whole feeling toward them was pity, even to sadness, as to bring tears to my eyes. Immortal souls, with no desires worthy of immortality! After a few years, what with the improved culture of the fields, the gardens, the trees, flowers, our fairs and school exhibitions, the people had so much to look forward to and prepare for, that they had no time or inclination to run about the country, or go away from home for amusement.