The Humour and Pathos of Anglo-Indian Life: Extracts from his brother's note-book, made by Dr. TicklemoreMayer, J. E.
General
The Humour and Pathos of Anglo-Indian Life: Extracts from his brother's note-book, made by Dr. Ticklemore
Mayer, J. E.
British -- India; India -- Social life and customs
Lieutenant Mitchel now stood up and said: 'Gentlemen, speechifying isn't
my line; therefore I feel sure that you will not insist on my attempting
what I know I can't do. But, gentlemen, pray believe me when I say that
I feel your kindness most deeply, though I have not the gift of words to
express it. I beg to drink all your healths, and thank you heartily for
the manner in which you have drunk mine. I also beg to thank Mr. H.
especially for the kind and handsome way he has spoken of me.'
'Bravo, Mitchel! A very good speech indeed!' said Mr. G., as soon as the
shouting and hip-hipping allowed him to be heard. 'Now, Doctor, we must
call upon you, who, after all, are the most interested in this affair.'
'Truly, as you have said, most noble President,' replied my brother, as
he rose to respond to the call made on him, 'I am the person most
interested, because I am the person most benefited, and were I without a
wife or family I should say solely benefited. At any rate, I have
received that described elsewhere in these words, "What will not a man
give for his life?" Sure, to a brave man, the stab of a poniard or
knife, the stroke of a sabre, or the blow from a ball, are, as respects
himself, little heeded, and are faced without a moment's hesitation on
very slight grounds. But, gentlemen, there are pangs that strike deeper,
and pangs that are felt more keenly by the bravest than any that can
affect him personally. Can a husband, think you, feel no deeper pang at
parting for ever from a beloved wife? Can a father, think you, leave
helpless orphans behind him and feel no deeper pang than lead or steel
can inflict? Your own kindly hearts, silently yet eloquently, answer my
questions. Can I, then, measure the extent of my obligations to a friend
who has saved me from sorrows such as these? Lifelong gratitude is
insufficient to mark that measure. Well may I repeat his simple but
genuine expression of feeling when I say, "I have not the gift of words
to express it." Gentlemen, I am forbidden by the regulation which has
been established, not because we are "Odd Fellows," as suggested by our
excellent friend Mr. H., but on account of the extreme modesty of that
matchless friend to whom I owe so much, but may not name. The king of
our party for this evening has enjoined us to go into no details, and to
avoid all particulars. I am thus forbidden to speak as I would wish of
that lightning-flash of intellect, which, guided by his rapid eye,
revealed to him instantaneously a danger that no one but himself
perceived. In like manner I am debarred from enlarging on that
decision--that wonderful decision that guided his action. A single
second's delay would have enabled the poor maniac to strike, and so
close and with such a weapon, death would have been inevitable. Neither
am I permitted to describe that instantaneous and robust action which
converted the internal electric message and order into practice.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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