It has already been seen that, though household expenses were heavy,
the tendency towards simplicity began in Durban. But the
Johannesburg house came in for much severer overhauling in the light
of Ruskin's teaching.
I introduced as much simplicity as was possible in a barrister's
house. It was impossible to do without a certain amount of
furniture. The change was more internal than external. The liking
for doing personally all the physical labour increased. I therefore
began to bring my children also under that discipline.
Instead of buying baker's bread, we began to prepare unleavened
wholemeal bread at home according to Kuhne's recipe. Common mill
flour was no good for this, and the use of hand-ground flour, it was
thought, would ensure more simplicity, health and economy. So I
purchased a hand-mill for £7. The iron wheel was too heavy to be
tacked by one man, but easy for two. Polak and I and the children
usually worked it. My wife also occasionally lent a hand, though the
grinding hour was her usual time for commencing kitchen work. Mrs.
Polak now joined us on her arrival. The grinding proved a very
beneficial exercise for the children. Neither this nor any other
work was ever imposed on them, but it was a pastime to them to come
and lend a hand, and they were at liberty to break off whenever
tired. But the children, including those whom I shall have occasion
to introduce later, as a rule never failed me. Not that I had no
laggards at all, but most did their work cheerfully enough. I can
recall few youngsters in those days fighting shy of work or pleading
fatigue.
We had engaged a servant to look after the house. He lived with us
as a member of the family, and the children used to help him in his
work. The municipal sweeper removed the night-soil, but we
personally attended to the cleaning of the closet instead of asking
or expecting the servant to do it. This proved a good training for
the children. The result was that none of my sons developed any
aversion for scavenger's work, and they naturally got a good
grounding in general sanitation. There was hardly any illness in the
home at Johannesburg, but whenever there was any, the nursing was
willingly done by the children. I will not say that I was
indifferent to their literary education, but I certainly did not
hesitate to sacrifice it. My sons have therefore some reason for a
grievance against me. Indeed they have occasionally given expression
to it, and I must plead guilty to a certain extent. The desire to
give them a literary education was there. I even endeavoured to give
it to them myself, but every now and then there was some hitch or
other. As I had made no other arrangement for their private tuition,
I used to get them to walk with me daily to the office and back home
– a distance of about five miles in all. This gave them and me a fair
amount of exercise. I tried to instruct them by conversation during
these walks, if there was no one else claiming my attention. All my
children, excepting the eldest, Harilal, who had stayed away in
India, were brought up in Johannesburg in this manner. Had I been
able to devote at least an hour to their literary education with
strict regularity, I should have given them, in my opinion, an ideal
education. But it was been their, as also my, regret that I failed
to ensure them enough literary training. The eldest son has often
given vent to his distress privately before me and publicly in the
press; the other sons have generously forgiven the failure as
unavoidable. I am not heart-broken over it and the regret, if any,
is that I did not prove an ideal father. But I hold that I
sacrificed their literary training to what I genuinely, though may
be wrongly, believed to be service to the community. I am quite
clear that I have not been negligent in doing whatever was needful
for building up their character. I believe it is the bounden duty of
every parent to provide for this properly. Whenever, in spite of my
endeavour, my sons have been found wanting, it is my certain
conviction that they have reflected, not want of care on my part,
but the defects of both their parents.
Children inherit the qualities of the parents, no less than their
physical features. Environment does play an important part, but the
original capital on which a child starts in life is inherited from
its ancestors. I have also seen children successfully surmounting
the effects of an evil inheritance. That is due to purity being an
inherent attribute of the soul.
Polak and I had often very heated discussions about the desirability
or otherwise of giving the children an English education. It has
always been my conviction that Indian parents who train their
children to think and talk in English from their infancy betray
their children and their country. They deprive them of the spiritual
and social heritage of the nation, and render them to that extent
unfit for the service of the country. Having these convictions, I
made a point of always talking to my children in Gujarati. Polak
never liked this. He thought I was spoiling their future. He
contended, with all the vigour and love at his command, that, if
children were to learn a universal language like English from their
infancy, they would easily gain considerable advantage over others
in the race of life. He failed to convince me. I do not now remember
whether I convinced him of the correctness of my attitude, or
whether he gave me up as too obstinate. This happened about twenty
years ago, and my convictions have only deepened with experience.
Though my sons have suffered for want of full literary education,
the knowledge of the mother tongue that they naturally acquired has
been all to their and the country's good, inasmuch as they do not
appear the foreigners they would otherwise have appeared. They
naturally become bilingual, speaking and writing English with fair
ease, because of daily contact with a large circle of English
friends, and because of their stay in a country where English was
the chief language spoken.