পাতা:মাইকেল মধুসূদন দত্তের জীবন-চরিত - যোগীন্দ্রনাথ বসু.pdf/৭২৩

에ff) | Vy help They drew up all the necessary papers for him. They advised him to ask for a Commission. Ramgopal Ghosh very much condemned this step, and lamented Kissory's mistake in taking no better advice than from two flaming young spirits. Modhu then lived close by the Police, and walked in a trice to his office. He lived in the small two storied house on the Chitpur Road, just to the east of the new Police buildings. Here, he wrote his Sarmista, Padmavati, Tillotama, Meghnad-badha, Krista Kumari, and others. The spot ought to be memorable in our literary annals. Modhu, I have been told, used to dictate to three or four amanuenses together. He moved about in the room, and told each in his turn what he was to write. To carry so many agd so different matters in his head, all at the same time, is possible only for a genius. Like every one else, I wished success to Modhu as a barister But I always thought he had made a mistake He was a soul "guileless beyond magining.” No 'cuteness' for his profession in him. His worldly experience was nil He had a low, broken, husky voice that failed to make impression. He looked only at the bright side of things. The case he was engaged in at Burdwan, gave me the most convincing proofs of his failure from all these causes. He was a round man in a square hole not in respect of law only, but every walk of life The leaden dead-weight was off him only when he was on his wings to Muse-land. Like GoldSmith's vicar, who "travelled from the blue bed to the brown,' Modhu was good only for poetry to pleasure, and pleasure to poetry. I vey well remember Modhu's appearance at College. He was then a slim tallish youth, who won friends by an engaging Smile and address The last time I saw him at IBurdwan in 1872, he looked a shorter man by his having grow sideways. Ili abdomen had hulged oil, ahri his thick sensuous nether lip hung out a little too much. Not only the heavy appearance was without vigour, but that he had lost also much of his sprightliness and spirit. The effect of a bottomless appetite for fun, for folic, and adventure had told, and his way of life was “fillen into the sear and yellow leaf' Modhu very much lacked control over his impulses. He cared little for the cold proprieties of the world, and thinking too much of himself, affected originality in all that he did. Conscious of his destiny, he spent his force in frivolity and holding his true powers in reserve, waited only for a call to action. Luckily that call came, and, proving true to his promises, he justified himself. Modhu had a regular field-day in the arena of Bengali literature; and over-came Himalaya-high prejudices against his Interoperism. Generally, he is considered to be the creator of an epoch simply by his introduction of the blank-verse and sonnet, But he has opened also an age of taste and correctness. He has