{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_37722/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_37722","id":"gutenberg_37722","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37722","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Other","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Category: Sociology","Hindus","India -- Social life and customs","Women -- India"],"text":"Produced by Steven Gibbs, Julia Neufeld and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note: For this text version, t with a dot underneath\nis represented by [t.] as in \"ba[t.]h\".\n\n\n\n\n\n  THE\n\n  HINDOOS AS THEY ARE\n\n  A DESCRIPTION OF THE MANNERS, CUSTOMS\n\n  AND\n\n  INNER LIFE OF HINDOO SOCIETY\n\n  IN BENGAL.\n\n  BY\n\n  SHIB CHUNDER BOSE.\n\n  WITH A PREFATORY NOTE BY\n\n  THE REV. W. HASTIE, B. D.,\n\n  PRINCIPAL OF THE GENERAL ASSEMBLY'S INSTITUTION, CALCUTTA.\n\n  London:\n\n  EDWARD STANFORD, 55, CHARING CROSS.\n\n  Calcutta:\n\n  W. NEWMAN & Co., 3, DALHOUSIE SQUARE.\n\n  1881.\n\n  PRINTED BY W. NEWMAN AND CO.,\n  AT THE CAXTON PRESS, 1, MISSION ROW, CALCUTTA.\n\n  [_The Right of Translation and Reproduction is reserved._]\n\n\n\n    CONTENTS.\n\n\n                                                          _Page._\n\n    PREFATORY NOTE.                                             i\n\n    INTRODUCTION.                                             iii\n\n    I. THE HINDOO HOUSEHOLD                                     1\n\n    II. THE BIRTH OF A HINDOO                                  22\n\n    III. THE HINDOO SCHOOL-BOY                                 30\n\n    IV. VOWS OF HINDOO GIRLS                                   35\n\n    V. MARRIAGE CEREMONIES                                     41\n\n    VI. THE BROTHER FESTIVAL                                   90\n\n    VII. THE SON-IN-LAW FESTIVAL                               92\n\n    VIII. THE DOORGA POOJAH FESTIVAL                           93\n\n    IX. THE KALI POOJAH FESTIVAL                              136\n\n    X. THE SARASWATI POOJAH                                   151\n\n    XI. THE FESTIVAL OF CAKES                                 155\n\n    XII. THE HOLI FESTIVAL                                    159\n\n    XIII. CASTE                                               165\n\n    XIV. A BRAHMIN                                            180\n\n    XV. THE BENGALEE BABOO                                    191\n\n    XVI. THE KOBIRAJ, OR NATIVE PHYSICIAN                     209\n\n    XVII. HINDOO FEMALES                                      216\n\n    XVIII. POLYGAMY                                           227\n\n    XIX. HINDOO WIDOWS                                        237\n\n    XX. SICKNESS, DEATH, AND SHRAD OR FUNERAL CEREMONIES      246\n\n    XXI. SUTTEE, OR THE IMMOLATION OF HINDOO WIDOWS           272\n\n    XXII. THE ADMIRED STORY OF SABITRI BRATA, OR THE\n    WONDERFUL TRIUMPH OF EXALTED CHASTITY                     280\n\n    APPENDIX                                                  293\n\nERRATA.\n\nPage 49, line 4, for \"_Butterfly_,\" read, \"_Prajapati_--the (Lord.)\"\n\n\n\nPREFATORY NOTE.\n\n\nBabu Shib Chunder Bose is an enlightened Bengali, of matured conviction\nand character, who, having received the stirring impulse of Western\nculture and thought during the early period of Dr. Duff's work in the\nGeneral Assembly's Institution, has continued faithful to it through all\nthese long and changeful years. His extended and varied experience, his\ncareful habit of observation and contrast, his large store of general\nreading and information, and his rare sobriety and earnestness of\njudgment, eminently qualify him for lifting the veil from the inner\ndomestic life of his countrymen, and giving such an account of their\nsocial and religious observances as may prove intelligible and\ninstructive to general English readers. In the sketches which he has now\nproduced we are presented with the first-fruits of \"the harvest of a\nquiet eye\" that has long meditatively watched the strange ongoings of\nthis ancient society, and penetrated with living insight into the\nsprings and tendency of its startling changes.\n\nAlthough I had no special claim to any right of judgment upon the\npresent phases of Hindu life, the writer took me early into his\nconfidence, and from the apparent quality and sincerity of his work I\nhad no hesitation in encouraging him to persevere, recommending him,\nhowever, to leave historical speculation to others and to confine\nhimself to a faithful delineation of facts within his own experience.\nWhile his manuscripts were passing through my hands, I took pains to\nverify his descriptions by frequent reference to younger educated\nnatives, who, in all cases, confirmed the accuracy and reliability of\nthe details. The book will stand on its own merits with English readers,\nwhose happily increasing interest in the forms and movements of Hindu\nlife at this transitional period when the picturesque institutions and\nhabits of thousands of years are visibly and irrevocably passing away,\nshould gladly welcome its fresh and opportune representations. And all\nwho, viewing without regret the decay of the old order and animated by\nthe faith of nobler possibilities than it has ever achieved, are\nactually engaged in the great work of religious regeneration and social\nreform in India, should find much in these truthful but saddening\nsketches to intensify their sympathies and give definite direction and\nguidance to their best efforts.\n\n                                                         W. HASTIE.\n\n  THE GENERAL ASSEMBLY'S INSTITUTION,\n      _23rd March, 1881_.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nIn presenting the following volume to the Public, I am conscious of the\nvery great disadvantage I labor under in attempting to communicate my\nthoughts through the medium of a language differing from my\nmother-tongue both in the forms of construction and in the methods of\nexpression. My appeal to the indulgence of the public is based on the\nground of my work being true to its name. It professes to be a simple,\nbut faithful, delineation of the present state of Hindoo society in\nBengal, and especially in Calcutta, the Athens of Hindoosthan. I cannot\npromise anything thrilling or sensational. My principal object is to\ngive as much information as possible regarding the moral, intellectual,\nsocial and domestic economy of my countrymen and countrywomen. The\ninterest attaching to the information and facts furnished will greatly\ndepend on the spirit in which they may be received. To such of my\nreaders as feel a genuine interest in a true reflection of the present\nstate of society in this country, passing from a condition of almost\nimpenetrable darkness to that of marvellous light, through the general\nand rapid diffusion of western knowledge, I do not think the details I\nhave given will be found dull or dry. Not a few of the facts stated\nwill, I fear, prove painfully interesting to those who are cognisant of\nthe many incrusted defects and deficiencies still lurking in our social\nsystem. But if we carefully look at it we shall doubtless discover that\nit is not all darkness and clouds, \"it has its crimson dawns, its rosy\nsunsets.\" The multitudinous phases of Hindoo life, though sadly\nrevolting and repulsive in many respects, have nevertheless some\nredeeming features, revealing radiant glimpses of simple and innocent\njoys. In discussing the various social questions in their purely earthly\naspects and relationships, it may be I have treated some of them\ninadequately and superficially, but in so doing I claim the merit of a\nhumble endeavour after perfect honesty. I have in no wise exaggerated,\nbut have simply followed the golden maxim of \"nothing extenuate nor set\ndown aught in malice.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe men of the land, and not the land of the men, form the subject\nmatter of my work. My attention has long been directed to the domestic,\nsocial, moral, intellectual and religious condition of the Hindoos. The\ndeep researches of European savants have from time to time thrown a\nflood of light on the learning and antiquities of India. We have every\nreason to admire the great truthfulness and accuracy of their\nobservations in many respects. As foreigners, however, they were\nnaturally constrained to pay but a subordinate attention to the peculiar\ndomestic and social economy of the Natives. The idea of attempting a\nsketch of the inner life and habits of the Hindoos in this age, was\noriginally suggested to the writer by the Revd. Drs. Duff and\nCharles--two Christian philanthropists, whose names are deservedly\nenshrined in the grateful memory of the Hindoo community of Bengal, the\ngreat centre of their educational and religious achievements. It was\ncordially approved by that high-minded statesman, Sir Charles\nTheophilus, afterwards Lord Metcalfe, who practically taught the Indian\nPublic what a writer in the \"_Nineteenth Century_\" so aptly calls the\ngreat Trinity of liberty,--freedom of speech, freedom of trade, and\nfreedom of religion.\n\nTo supply this desideratum, and not merely to gratify the natural\ncuriosity to know the inner life of the Hindoos, but to do something in\nthe line of social amelioration by \"bringing the stagnant waters of\nEastern life into contact with the quickening stream of European\nprogress,\" have been the chief aim of the following pages. Should a\nliberal Public, here as well as in Europe and America, vouchsafe its\ncountenance to this my first literary enterprise, I purpose to continue\nmy humble labor in the same sphere, extending my observation, if\nadvisable, to a picture of the social life of Upper, Western and\nSouthern India. The vastness of the subject is one great difficulty. It\nwill open to all civilized and philanthropic nations a wide and yet\nunexplored field for the exercise of their thoughts and sympathies.\n\nTo Europeans, and more especially to Englishmen, who have, for more than\na century and a half, been the great and beneficent arbiters under\nProvidence of the destiny of this vast empire, a correct knowledge of\nthe domestic and social institutions of the Hindoos, is of the most\nvital importance, being essentially indispensable to a right\nunderstanding of the existing wants, wishes, feelings and sentiments,\ncondition and progress of the subject race. Many erroneous ideas\nconcerning the singular customs and observances of the people of India\nstill prevail in Europe and America. They are partly due to defective\nobservation, and partly to the prejudices of men whose minds are too\npre-occupied to properly understand and appreciate the peculiar phases\nof character, manners and usages among nations other than their own.\nSuch men are unfortunately led to associate the Natives \"with ways that\nare dark and tricks that are vain.\" To remove the mass of misconception\nyet prevailing in some quarters by placing before the general reader a\ntrue and comprehensive knowledge of the daily life of a people, who\noccupy such a huge spot on the earth's surface, and whose numbers are\ncounted by hundreds of millions, is indeed an important step towards the\nsolution of a great social problem, and towards the removal of the gulf\nthat divides the sons of the soil from the English rulers of the\ncountry. The tendency of close and constant intercourse is to promote an\nidentity of interests between the two races. As a Native, the author may\nbe allowed to have had the facilities requisite for acquiring a clear\nidea of the manners and customs of his countrymen, which may\ncounterbalance in some degree the drawbacks and deficiencies naturally\nexperienced by him on the score of language.\n\nThe Rev. W. Hastie, B. D., Principal of the General Assembly's\nInstitution, and Mr. J. B. Knight, C. I. E., have laid me under great\nand lasting obligations by their kind suggestions and encouragement. I\nhave particularly to thank the former for the prefatory note which he\nhas written in response to my special request.\n\n                                                SHIB CHUNDER BOSE.\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\nTHE HINDOO HOUSEHOLD.\n\n\nIt is my intention in the following pages to endeavour to convey to the\nmind of the European reader some distinct idea of the present manners\nand customs, usages and institutions of my Hindoo countrymen,\nillustrative of their peculiar domestic and social habits and the\n_inner_ life of our society, the minutiae of which can never be\nsufficiently accessible to Europeans. \"It is in the domestic circle that\nmanners are best seen, where restraint is thrown aside, and no external\nauthority controls the freedom of expression.\"\n\nI shall begin with a general account of the normal Hindoo household, as\nat once the living centre and meeting point of the various elements of\nour society. But as it is impossible to describe the manifold gradations\nof social condition in a single sketch, I shall draw from the domestic\narrangements of a family of one of the higher castes and provided with a\nconvenient share of worldly prosperity. Only the principal elements in\nthe group can now be alluded to, and some of them will be described with\ngreater detail in separate sketches.\n\nThe family domicile of a Hindoo is, to all intents and purposes, a\nregular sanctum, not easily accessible to the outside world. Its\npeculiar construction, its tortuous passages, its small compartments and\nspecial apportionment, obviously indicate the prevalence of a taste\n\"cabined, cribbed, confined,\" and preclude the admittance of free\nventilation and free intercourse. The annals of history have long since\nestablished the fact that the close confinement system which exists in\nBengal, was mainly owing to the oppressions of the Moslem conquerors,\nand more recently to the inroads of the Pindaree marauders, commonly\ntermed _Burghees_, the tales of whose depredations are still listened\nto with gaping mouths and terrified interest.\n\nThe gradual consolidation of the British power having established on a\nfirm basis the security of life and property, the people are beginning\nto avail themselves of an improved mode of habitation, affording better\nfacilities of accommodation and a wider range of the comforts and\nconveniences of life. From time out of mind there has existed in the\ncountry a sort of domestic and social economy, bearing a close\nresemblance to the old patriarchal system, recognising the principle of\na common father or ruler of a family, who exercises parental control\nover all. The system of a joint Hindoo family[1] partaking of the same\nfood, living under the same roof from generation to generation,\nbreathing the same atmosphere, and worshipping the same god, is\ndecidedly a traditional inheritance which the particular structure of\nHindoo society has long reared and fostered. This side of the subject\nwill be enlarged upon in its proper place.\n\nA few words about the respective position and duties of the principal\nmembers of a Hindoo household will be in place at the outset. I shall,\ntherefore, begin with the _Karta_ or male head, who, as the term\nimports, exercises supreme control over the whole family, so that no\ndomestic affair of any importance may be undertaken without his consent\nor knowledge. The financial management, almost entirely regulated by his\nsuperior judgment, seldom or never exceeds the available means at his\ndisposal. The honor, dignity and reputation of the family wholly depend\non his prudence and wisdom, weighted by age and matured by experience.\nHis own individual happiness is identified with that of the other\nmembers of the household. There is a proverbial expression among the\nNatives, teaching that the counsel of the aged should be accepted for\nall the practical purposes of life (except in a few unhappy instances to\nbe noticed hereafter) and the rule exerts a healthy influence on the\ndomestic circle. As the supreme Head he has not only to look after the\nsecular wants of the family but likewise to watch the spiritual needs of\nall the members, checking irregularities by the sound discipline of\nearnest admonition. In accordance with the usual consequences of a\npatriarchal system, a respectable Hindoo is often obliged to support a\ncertain number of hangers-on, more or less related to him by kinship. A\nbrother, an uncle, a nephew, a brother-in-law, etc., with their\nfamilies, are not unfrequently placed in this humiliating position,\nnotwithstanding the currency of the trite apothegm,--which says, \"it is\nbetter to be dependent on another for _food_ than to live in his\n_house_.\" This saying is to be supplemented by another which runs thus:\n\"_Luckhee_, the goddess of prosperity, always commands a numerous\ntrain.\" The proper significance of these phrases is but too practically\nunderstood and felt by those who have been unfortunate enough to come\nunder their exemplification.\n\nNext in point of importance in the category of the domestic circle is\nhis wife, the _Ghinni_, or the female Head, whose position is a\nresponsible one, and whose duties are alike manifold and arduous. She\nhas to look after the victualling department, report to her husband or\nsons the exact state of the stores,[2] order what is wanted, account for\nthe extra consumption of victuals, adopt the necessary precaution\nagainst being robbed, see that everyone is duly fed, and that the rite\nof hospitality is extended to the poor and helpless, watch that the\nrules of purity are practically observed in every department of the\nhousehold, and make daily arrangements as to what meals are to be\nprepared for the day. The study of domestic economy engages her\nattention from the moment she undertakes the varied duties in the inner\ndepartment of a household, the proper management of which, is, to her, a\ncongenial occupation, becoming her sex, her position, her habitude, her\ntaste. Independent of these domestic charges which are enough to absorb\nher mind, she has other duties to discharge, which shall be indicated\nhereafter.\n\nThe next chief constituents in the body of the household, are the\ndaughters and daughters-in-law, whose relative positions and duties\ndemand a separate notice. Viewed from their close relationship it is\nreasonable to conclude that they should bear the kindliest feelings to\neach other and evince a tender regard for mutual happiness, returning\nlove for love and sympathy for sympathy. But, as elsewhere, unhappily,\nsuch is the depravity of human nature that the operation of antagonistic\ninfluences arising from dissimilar idiosyncracies, embitters some of the\nsweetest enjoyments of life. In the majority of cases, a _nanad_, the\nsister of the husband, though allied to another family, is nevertheless\nsolicitous to minister to the domestic felicity of her _vaja_ or the\nwife of his brother, but unhappily her intent is often misconstrued, and\nthe sincerity of her motive questioned. Instead of an unclouded\ncordiality subsisting between them, the generous affection of the one is\nbut ill-requited by the other. Hence, an unaccountable coldness commonly\nsprings up between them which materially subtracts from the growth of\ndomestic felicity. Shame on us that a vast amount of ignorance and\nprejudice yet renders us incapable of appreciating the highest end of\nthe social state.\n\nWhen the several female members of a household meet together, enlivened\nby the company of their neighbours and friends (such visits being few\nand far between), these first object of inquiry is generally the amount\nof ornaments possessed, their workmanship, their value. Few things\nplease them better than a conversation on this subject, which from the\nabsence of mental culture, almost wholly monopolizes their mind, despite\nthe natural tendency of human intellect to a progressive development. If\nnot thus absorbed, the time is usually frittered away by sundry petty\nfrivolous inquiries of a purely domestic character. On matters of the\nmost vital importance their notions are as crude and irrational as they\nare absurd and childish.[3] Except in isolated instances, their bearing\ntowards each other is generally marked by suavity, and kindliness of\nmanners which has a tendency to draw closer the bond of union between\nthem all.\n\nIt is on such occasions that the amiable loveliness of human nature, is\ndisplayed,--brightening, for a time, at least the otherwise dark region\nof a Hindoo zenana and cheering the hearts of its inmates. In a thickly\npopulated city like Calcutta, with its broad roads and dense crowds at\nall hours of the day, without a closed conveyance, either a palkee or a\ncarriage, no married female is permitted to leave the house even for a\nsingle moment, for that of her sister, perhaps some three doors from her\nown. So great is the privacy, and punctiliousness with which female\nhonor is guarded in the East. The sanction of the male or female head\nmust, as a standing rule of female etiquette, be obtained before any one\nis at liberty to go out even to return a friendly or ceremonious visit.\nThe reader may form an idea as to the tenacity with which the close\nzenana system in a respectable family is enforced, from the circumstance\nof a young _Bahou_ or daughter-in-law (the rules being not so strict in\nthe case of a daughter) being set down as immodest and unmannerly, if\nshe were accidently seen to tread the outer or male compartment of the\nhouse. If she but chance to articulate a word or a phrase so as to reach\nthe ear of a male outside, she is severely censured, and steps are\ninstantly taken, to teach her better manners for the future. Even the\n_Ghinni_, or female Head, does not escape censure for a like offence.\nWith such scrupulous pertinacity is the privacy of the _inner_ life of\nthe Hindoo society observed. A social line of demarcation is drawn\naround the zenana which a genteel Hindoo female is told and taught never\nto overstep, either in her conversation or bearing. Woe be to the day\nwhen she is incautiously led to move beyond her sphere, which, for all\nthe practical purposes of life, is closely hemmed in by a ring of\nmiserable seclusion, illustrating the scornful lines of the poet:\n\n  \"Let Eastern tyrants from the light of heaven\n          Seclude their bosom slaves.\"\n\nA few advanced Hindoos, more especially the Brahmos, who have received\nthe benefits of an enlightened education, are making strenuous efforts\nto ameliorate the degraded condition of their wives and sisters (the\nmothers being too old and conservative to acquiesce in the spirit of\nmodern innovation) and bring them to the front, if possible, by ignoring\nthe rules of orthodoxy. But it is the firm belief of such as have been\nschooled by experience and observation, that the time is yet far distant\nwhen this bold, sweeping, social revolution shall be brought about with\nthe general consensus of the people at large. The moral tone of Native\nsociety must be immensely raised, its manners and customs entirely\nremodelled, and its traditional institutions and prescriptive usages\nthoroughly purified before the consummation of so desirable an object\ncan be successfully effected.\n\nA Hindoo girl, even after marriage, enjoys greater liberty and is\ntreated with more indulgence at her father's house than at her\nfather-in-law's. The cause of this is obvious. From the very period of\nher birth, she is nurtured by her mother, aunts, sisters and other\nfemale relatives, no less than by her father, uncle, brothers and other\nmale members of the family, all of whom naturally continue to bear her\nthe same love and affection throughout her after life. A mother hugs her\nmore tenderly, caresses her more fondly, hangs about her more\naffectionately, feels greater sympathy in her joy and sorrow, and\nwatches more carefully how she grows up in health to her present state,\nthan a mother-in-law. Whether she is eating, talking or playing, her\nmother's care never ceases. Should maternal admonition fail to produce\nthe desired effect, as it does in a few isolated instances, the usual\nthreat of sending her to her father-in-law's, acts as the most wholesome\ncorrective.\n\nThe social relaxations of Hindoo females have a very limited range. Some\ndelight in reading the Mahabharat, the Ramayan, tales, romances, etc.,\nwhile others are fond of needle-work, playing at cards, or listening to\nstories of a puerile description. Though they seldom come out of their\nhouses, except under permissive sanction, yet their stock of gossip is\nalmost inexhaustible. They are generally lively and loquacious, and the\nchief passion of their life is for the acquisition of ornaments. They\npossess a retentive memory, seldom forgetting what they once hear. Fond\nof hyperboles, the sober realities of life have little attraction for\ntheir minds. Their social tone is neither so pure nor so elevated as\nbecomes a polished, refined community. It is almost needless to add,\nthat their familiar conversation is not characterised by that chaste,\ndignified language, which constitutes the prominent feature of a people\nfar advanced in the van of civilization. Objectionable modes of\nexpression generally pass muster among them, simply because they labor\nunder the great disadvantage of the national barrenness of intellect and\nthe acknowledged poverty of colloquial literature.\n\nIt is a well-known fact that Hindoo males and females do not take their\nmeals together. Both squat down on the floor at the time of eating.\nExcept in the case of little girls, it is held highly unbecoming in a\ngrown up female to be seen eating by a male member of the family. As a\nrule, women take their meals after the men have finished theirs. There\nis a popular belief that women take a longer time to eat than men. Of\nthe perfection of the culinary art, the former are better judges than\nthe latter. They chat and eat leisurely because they have no offices to\ngo to, nor any definite occupation to engage their minds in. A Hindoo\nwriter has said, that commonly speaking, they eat more and digest more\nreadily than men. Naturally modest, they take their meals without any\ncomplaint, though sometimes they are served with food not of the very\nbest description. The choicest part of the food is offered in the first\ninstance to the males and the residue is kept for the females. A woman\nis religiously forbidden to taste of anything in the shape of eatables\nbefore it is given to a man. Simple in taste, diet and habits, but shut\nup in a state of close confinement, and leading a monotonous life,\nscarcely cheered by a ray of light, they are necessarily not receptive\nof large communications of truth.\n\nThe children form an important link in the great chain of the domestic\ncircle. When sporting about in childhood they have commonly spare\npersons, light brown skins, high foreheads beaming with intelligence,\nlarge dark eyes, with aquiline noses, small thin-lipped mouths, and dark\nsoft hair. The fairness of their complexion is generally sallowed by\nexposure to the sun in the earliest stage of childhood.\n\nThe child grows up under the fostering care of its parents amidst all\nthe surroundings of the family domicile. As it advances in years the\nmother endeavours, according to her very limited capacity, to instil\ninto its mind the rude elements of knowledge. From the incipient stage\nof early infancy when his mind is rendered susceptible of culture and\nexpansion, crude and imperfect religious ideas largely leavened with\nsuperstition, are communicated to him, which subsequently mould his\ncharacter in an undesirable manner. His early affections and moral\nprinciples are most entirely influenced by the impressions he receives\nat the maternal fount, and he seldom comes in contact with the outer\nworld. He is taught to pay divine homage to all the idols that are\nworshipped at stated periods of the year, and his indistinct ideas grow\ninto deep convictions, the pernicious influence of which can only\nafterwards be effaced by the blessings of western knowledge. In the\nvillages \"_chanaka sloaka_\" or elementary lessons are still given as a\nsort of moral exercise. The mother from want of adequate capacity or\nculture is unfit to engraft on the youthful mind the higher divine\ntruths, to teach the child how to look on men, how to feel for them, how\nto bear with them, how to be true, honest, manly, and how to \"look\nbeneath the outward to the spiritual, immortal and divine.\" Solid,\npractical wisdom, however, is often extracted from the most commonplace\nexperiences, even by untutored minds.\n\n\"Honor thy father and thy mother,\" is the first scriptural commandment\nwith promise, the importance and excellence of which is early impressed\non the mind of a Hindoo child by wise, discreet parents. And Hindoos are\nhonorably distinguished by their affections for their parents, and\ncontinue to be so even in the maturer years of their life.\n\nIn the case of a girl, even the most elementary sort of instruction is\nneglected except that she occasionally studies the Bengallee primer,--an\ninnovation which the spirit of the times countenances. When of proper\nage, she is sent to a female school where she pursues her studies until\nfinally withdrawn therefrom after her marriage. As a rational being she\nmay continue to evince a natural desire and aptitude for intellectual\nprogress and to carry it on by home study according to her taste and\nposition in life. A few have made astonishing progress, despite certain\nformidable obstacles which an abnormal state of society inevitably\ninterposes. The traditional bugbear of becoming a widow if she were to\nlearn to read and write has happily passed away, not only in the great\ncentres of education but likewise in several parts of the rural\ndistricts, where, to all appearances, females are just beginning, as it\nwere, to assert their right to the improvement of their minds. This is\ncertainly an unerring presage, foreshadowing the advent of national\nregeneration in the fullness of time. Many families being well-to-do in\nthe world engage a Christian governess[4] both for elementary\ninstruction as well as for needle-work, the latter being an\naccomplishment which even the most matronly ladies have now taken a\ngreat liking for. The introduction of this art of tasteful production\nhas, in a great measure, superseded the idle, unprofitable gossip of the\nday, driving away ennui and slothfulness at the same time.\n\nIn almost every respectable Hindu household there is a tutelar god,\nchiefly made of stone and metal after one of the images of Krishna, set\nup on a gold or silver throne with silver umbrella and silver utensils\ndedicated to its service. Every morning and evening it is worshipped by\nthe hereditary _Purohit_, or priest, who visits the house for the\npurpose twice a day, and who, as the name implies, is the _first_ in all\nreligious ceremonies, second to none but the _guru_ or spiritual guide.\nThe offerings of rice, fruits, sweetmeats and milk, made to the god, he\ncarries home after the close of the service. A conch is blown, a bell is\nrung, and a gong beat at the time of the Poojah, when the religiously\ndisposed portion of the inmates, male and female, in a quasi-penitent\nattitude, make their obeisance to the god and receive in return the\nhollow benediction of the priest. The daily repetition of the service\nquickens the heartbeats of the devotees and serves to remind them,\nhowever faintly, of their religious duties. Such a worship is popularly\nregarded in the light of an act of great merit paving the way to\neverlasting bliss. A suitable endowment in landed property is sometimes\nset apart for the permanent support of the idol, which is called the\n_debatra_ land or inalienable property, according to the Hindu Shastras.\nSome families that have been reduced to a state of poverty through the\nreverses of fortune now live on the usufruct of the _debatra_ land,\nwhich serves as a sheet-anchor in stormy weather.\n\nBesides the daily Poojah of the household deity there are some other\nextraordinary religious celebrations, such as Doorga, Kali, Lakshmi,\nJagaddhatri, Saraswati, Kartik, Janmashtami, Dole, Rash, Jhoolun,\nJatras, etc., (the latter four being all Poojahs of Krishna) which\nexcite the religious fervor of the Vaishnavas, as contra-distinguished\nfrom the Saktas, the followers of Kali or Doorga the female principle.\n\nThe internal daily details of a Hindu household next demand our\nattention. In the morning when the breakfast is ready the little\nchildren are served first as they have to go to their schools, and then\nthe adult male members, chiefly brothers, nephews, etc., who have to\nattend their offices. They all squat down _vis-a-vis_ on small bits of\ncarpet on the floor, while the mother sits near them, not to eat but to\nsee that they are all properly served; she closely watches that each and\nevery one of them is duly satisfied; she would never feel happy should\nany of them find fault with a particular dish as being unsavoury, she\nsnubs the cook and taxes herself for her own want of supervision in the\nkitchen, because the idea of having failed to do her duty in this\nrespect is an agony to her mind.\n\nAs a mother, she avails herself of this opportunity to plunge into\nconversation, and consult her sons about the conduct of all domestic\naffairs, which necessarily expand as there are adjuncts to the original\nstock. For example, she takes their advice as to the amount of\nexpenditure to be incurred at the forthcoming wedding of _Sharat\nShashee_, the youngest daughter, in the month of Falgun, or February.\nThis is an occasion, when the hearts of both the sons and the mother\noverflow with the milk of human kindness, yet there is a desire to avoid\nextravagance as far as possible.\n\nA prudent mother wisely regulates her expenses according to the means\nand earnings of her sons, and she seldom or never comes to grief. The\nidea of an extravagant Hindoo mother is a solecism that has no existence\nin the actual realities of life. She is a model of economy, devotion,\nchastity, patience, self-denial, and a martyr to domestic affection. She\nmay be wanting in mental accomplishment, which is not her own fault, but\nthe very large share of strong common-sense she is naturally endowed\nwith, sufficiently makes up for every deficiency in all the ordinary\nconcerns of life. Accustomed to look upon her sons as the pride of her\nexistence, she seeks every legitimate means to promote their happiness.\nIf her daughters-in-law turn out querulous, and fall out one with\nanother, which is not unfrequently the case, she reconciles them by the\npanacea of gentle remonstrance. But unhappily, such is the degeneracy of\nthe present age that the influence of wholesome admonition being\nshamefully ignored is often lost in the cataclysm of discord, and the\ninevitable consequence is, that vicious selfishness disturbs Heaven's\nblessed peace, and \"love cools, friendships fall off, brothers divide.\"\n\nAfter the sons have gone to their respective offices, the mother\nchanging her clothes retires into the _thakurghar_(the place of worship)\nand goes through her morning service, at the close of which she\nprostrates herself, invokes the blessing of her guardian deity, and then\nagain changing her clothes, takes her breakfast and enjoys a short\nsiesta, while chewing a mouthful of betel sometimes mixed with tobacco\nleaf, in order to strengthen her teeth.\n\nIn any sketch of a Hindu family it is necessary that something should be\nsaid about the domestic servants attached to a Hindu household. The\ncook, whose employment involves some very important considerations, may\nbe either a male or a female. In most families, a preference is\ngenerally shewn for a female cook[5] for reasons which are obvious. The\nkitchen, being as a rule, placed in the inner division of the house, the\nfemales have an opportunity to assist her in various ways, so as to\nfacilitate and expedite her work, which certainly is not always of the\nmost pleasant nature. The dietary of a Hindu family, as may be easily\nanticipated, is of the simplest description, consisting for the most\npart of vegetables and fishes, with a little milk and ghee, but no eggs\nor meat of any kind. Not like the prepared dishes of the French and\nMoguls, highly flavored and richly spiced, the daily preparations are\nvery simple; no onion, garlic, or strong aromatic spices are used. They\nare easy of digestion and palatable to taste, being altogether free from\noffensive and foetid smell. The simple turmeric, pepper, cummin,\ncoriander and mustard seeds, etc., generally impart a fine flavor to the\npreparations, which the frugal and abstemious Hindoos eat with great\nzest. I have known the wives of several rich Baboos, take a delight in\npreparing with their own hands the evening meal of their husband and\nsons. This is entirely a labor of love, which they go through with the\ngreatest cheerfulness. It is necessary to mention here that without\nfishes, which are very abundant, a nice little Hindoo breakfast or\ndinner in Bengal is an impossibility. The art of cooking should not be a\nmystery to all save the initiated few, it should be the study of every\ngood and thrifty woman who is willing to sacrifice needless elegance and\npomp to comfort and economy.\n\nThis gastronomical digression will serve to indicate the taste of the\nHindu in Bengal, and the very simple style of their living. Even in the\nselection of articles of food a nice distinction is observed; fishes are\ndressed in a part of the kitchen quite distinct from where the\nvegetable dishes are prepared, because a widow is strictly forbidden to\nuse anything which comes in contact with fishes. Moreover, a widow would\nnot accept a dish unless it is prepared by a real Brahmin cook, male or\nfemale. Should a male member of the family be ever disposed to eat goat\nflesh (he being forbidden to use any other kind of meat, save mutton,\nwhen sacrificed) a _Sakta_ cook undertakes to prepare it for him. When\nfinished, she changes her clothes and purifies her body by sprinkling\nover it a few drops of Ganges water. Excepting little unmarried girls,\nwhose parents are _Saktas_ (worshippers of female deities) no other\nHindu female is permitted to use meat even by sufferance. In other\nrigidly orthodox families a similar concession is withheld.\n\nThe wage of a female cook, who in nine cases out of ten is a widow, is\nabout six to seven Rupees a month, with a few annas extra for\n_Ekadashi_--the day of close fast for all widows--and cocoanut oil for\nher hair,[6] six pieces of grey shirtings each ten cubits long, and\nthree bathing napkins a year. She also gets an extra piece of cloth at\nthe Doorga Poojah festival, when the most wretched pauper, somehow or\nother, puts on new clothes. Some of the widow cooks have certainly seen\nbetter days, but the vicissitudes of fortune have made them hopelessly\ndestitute. As a rule, they bear the load of misfortune with the greatest\npatience. They chiefly come from the villages, and it speaks much in\nfavor of the purity of their character that they ungrudgingly submit to\nthe menial offices of a drudge, instead of being seduced into the\nforbidden paths of life. Of course there are a few black sheep in the\nflock, but happily their number is very limited. A male cook is always\na Brahman. It is almost superfluous to add that the employment in a\nfamily or the admittance of any man-servant into the inner apartment of\na Hindoo household, which is emphatically the great centre, as well of\ndomestic happiness as of religious sanctity, is open to many objections.\n\nThe second domestic servant that demands a notice at our hands is the\n_Jhee_, or maid-servant of the family. Her duties are alike onerous and\ntroublesome. Like the potter's wheel she incessantly turns backwards and\nforwards and knows no rest till about ten o'clock at night. She rises\nearly in the morning, sweeps and washes all the rooms and verandahs\ninside the house, cleans all the brass utensils of the family, makes\nfire in the stove, pounds the kitchen spices, prepares fishes for\ncooking purposes, and attends to other duties of a household nature.\nSome maid-servants are almost exclusively employed in taking care of\nchildren. Their duties are not so hard as those of the family _Jhee_\nindicated above. These females are often drawn from the dregs of society\nand their conduct, or rather misconduct, sometimes leads to the most\nunhappy results. Their wage is about two Rupees a month, exclusive of\nfood and clothes. They occasionally also make something by carrying\npresents to relatives and friends.\n\nI next come to the male servants: there are more than a half-dozen of\nthem in a respectable family, and their services are in the main\nconfined to the outer apartment of the household. They sweep and clean\nall the rooms, spread white cloth bedding on the floor, change the water\nof the _hookah_ (the first essential both at an ordinary and special\nreception) fill the _chillum_ with tobacco, _kochay_, or trim the fine\nblack bordered Simla _Dhuti_ and _Kalmay Urani_ (Baboo's native dressing\nattire) put in order the lamps, and go to Bazar to make purchases. Their\npay ranges from three to four Rupees a month, exclusive of food and\nclothes.\n\nA rich Hindoo, however, has a large establishment of servants in\naddition to those mentioned above. There are durwans (door-keepers);\nsyces (grooms); coachmen, gardeners, sircar, cashier, accountant, etc.,\neach of whom discharges his functions in his own sphere, but they seldom\nor never come in contact with the female inmates of the household. The\ncashier is the most important and responsible person, and his income is\nlarger than that of any other servant, because he gets his commission\nfrom all tradespeople dealing with the family. All of them get presents\nof clothes at the great national festival the Doorga Pujah.\n\nThe _khansamah_ of a Baboo is his most favorite servant. From the nature\nof his office he comes into closest contact with his master, he rubs his\nbody with oil before bathing and sometimes shampooes him,--a practice\nwhich gradually induces idle, effeminate habits, and eventually greatly\nincapacitates a man for the manifold duties of an active life. Indeed,\nto study the life of a \"big native swell\" is to study the character of a\nconsummate Oriental epicure, immersed in a ceaseless round of pleasures,\nand hedged in by a body of unconscionable fellows, distinguished only\nfor their flattery and servility.\n\nExcept in isolated instances, the general treatment of domestic servants\nby their masters, is not reprehensible.\n\nExcept such as possess a thorough insight into the peculiar mysteries of\nthe inner life of the Hindoo society, very few are aware that a\nwife--perhaps the mother of three or four children--is forbidden to open\nher lips or lift her veil in order to speak to her husband in presence\nof her mother-in-law, or any other adult male or female member of the\nfamily. She may converse with the children without fear of being exposed\nto the charge of impropriety; this is the systole and diastole of her\nliberty, but she is imperatively commanded to hold her tongue and drop\ndown her veil whenever she happens to see an elderly member in her way.\nA phrase used in common parlance (_Bhasur Bhadrabau_) denotes the utmost\nprivacy, as that which the _wife_ of a younger brother should observe\ntowards the elder _brother_ of her husband. It is an unpardonable sin,\nas it were, in the former, even to come in contact with the very shadow\nof the latter. The rules of conventionalism have reared an adamantine\npartition wall between the two. We have all learnt in our school-days\nthat modesty is a quality which highly adorns a woman, but the peculiar\ndomestic economy of the natives, carries this golden rule to the utmost\nstretch of restriction, verging on sacred, religious prohibition.\n\nThe general state of Hindoo female society, as at present constituted,\nexhibits an improved moral tone, presenting an edifying contrast to the\ngross proclivities of former times as far as popular amusements are\nconcerned. The popular amusements of the Hindoos, like those of many\nEuropean nations, have rarely been characterised by essentially moral\nprinciples. But the loose and immoral amusements of the former time do\nnot now so much interest our educated females. The popular Native\n_Jatras_ (representations) do not now breathe those low, obscene\nexpressions, which was the wont only some thirty years back, yet they\nare not, withal, absolutely pure or elevated. It is true that some of\nthem are touching and pathetic in their themes, not jarring to a moral\nsense but admirably adapted to the taste of a people having a supreme\nrespect for their idolatrous and mythological systems, from which most\nof these _Jatras_ are derived. The marvellous and the supernatural\nalways exact an instinctive regard from the ignorant and the credulous\nmultitude, destitute of the superior blessings of enlightenment. The\n_Panchaly_ (represented by female actresses only) which is given for the\namusement of the females, especially at the time of the second marriage,\nis sometimes much too obscene and immoral to be tolerated in a zenana\nhaving any pretension to gentility. On such an occasion, despite a\nstrict conventional restriction, a depraved taste clearly manifests\nitself. Much has yet to be done to develope among the females a taste\nfor purer amusements, and such as are better adapted to a healthy state\nof society.\n\nIn Hindoo females there is a prominent trait which deserves to be\ncommended. Moses, Mohammed, and Manu, observes Benjamin Disraeli, say\ncleanliness is religion. Cleanliness certainly promotes health of body\nand delicacy of mind. When that excellent prelate, Heber, travelled in a\nboat on the sacred stream of the Ganges, seeing large crowds of Hindoo\nfemales engaged in washing their bodies and clothes on both sides of the\nriver, at the rising and setting of the sun, he most emphatically\nremarked that cleanliness is the supreme virtue of Hindoo women. In the\nUpper Provinces, at all seasons of the year, hundreds of women could be\ndaily seen with baskets of flowers in their hands slowly walking in the\ndirection of the river, and chanting songs in a chorus in praise of the\n\"unapproachable sanctuary of Mahadev, the great glacier world of the\nHimalaya, with its wondrous pinnacles, rising 24,000 feet above the\nlevel of the sea, and descending into the amethyst-hued ice cavern,\nwhence issues, in its turbulent and noisy infancy, the sacred river of\nIndia.\" They display a purity, a sincerity, a constant and passionate\ndevotion to their faith, which present a striking contrast to the\nconduct of men steeped in the quagmire of profligacy.\n\nOur ladies bathe their bodies and change their clothes twice in a day,\nin the morning and in the afternoon, neglecting which they are not\npermitted to take in hand any domestic work.\n\nIn the large Hindoo households, the lot of the wife who is childless is\ntruly deplorable. While her sisters are rejoicing in the juvenile fun\nand frolics of their respective children, sporting with all the\nelasticity of a light, free, and buoyant heart, she sits sulkily aloof,\nand inwardly repines at the unkind ordinance of _Bidhata_ and earnestly\ninvokes _Ma Shasthi_ (the patron deity of all children) to grant her the\ninestimable boon of offspring, without which this butterfly life is\nunsanctified, unprofitable and hollow.\n\nThe barrenness of a Hindoo female is denounced as a sin, for the\natonement of which certain religious rites are performed, and incessant\nprayers offered to all the terrestrial and celestial gods; but all her\nsuperstitious practices proving in vain, only tend to intensify her\nmisery.\n\nIn the beginning of this sketch I set out by stating that the peculiar\nconstitution of Hindoo society bears an affinity to the old patriarchal\nsystem. This is true to a very great extent. The system has its\nadvantages and disadvantages, which are, in a great measure, inseparable\nfrom the outgrowth of the social organism. If properly weighed in the\nscale, the latter will most assuredly counterbalance the former, so much\nso, that in the great majority of cases, discord and disquietude is the\ninevitable result of joint fraternisation. Leadership is certainly\norganisation; it formed the nucleus of the patriarchal system. But it is\nsimply absurd to expect that there should always be a happy marriage of\nminds in all cases, between so many men and women living together,\nendowed with different degrees of culture and influenced by adverse\ninterests and sentiments. In the nature of things, it is impossible that\nall the members of a large family, having separate and specific objects\nof their own, should coalesce and cordially co-operate to promote the\ngeneral welfare of a family, under a common leader or head. The\nmillennium is not yet come. Seven brothers living together with their\nwives and children under one and the same paternal roof, cannot\nreasonably be expected to abide in a state of perfect harmony so long as\nselfishness and incongruous tastes and interests are continually at work\nto sap the very foundation of friendliness and good fellowship. Union\nis strength, but harmonious union under the peculiar regime indicated\nabove, is already a remarkable exception in the present state of Hindoo\nsociety. If minutely probed, it will be found that women are at the\nbottom of that mischievous discord, which eats into the very vitals of\ndomestic felicity. Segregation, therefore, is the only means that\npromises to afford a relief from this social incubus; and to segregation\nmany families have now resorted, much after the fashion of the dominant\nrace, with a view to the uninterrupted enjoyment of domestic happiness.\n\nHaving briefly indicated in the preceding lines the chief family\nconstituents of a Hindoo household in their several relations and\ncharacteristics, it is scarcely necessary for me to add, that whenever\nthis interesting group, consisting of sweet children, loving husbands\nand wives, and affectionate parents and brothers, is animated by the\nvital, indestructible principles of virtue, practically recognising the\nobligations of duty, the divinity of conscience, and the moral\nconnection of the present and future life, it will be found to diffuse\nall the blessings of peace, joy and moral order around the social and\ndomestic hearth.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] The late Dr. Jackson, who was the family physician of the great\nNative millionaire,--Baboo Ashutosh Dey--seeing the very large number of\nmen and women who resided in his family dwelling house, very facetiously\nremarked that the mansion was a small colony. A similar remark was made\nby Dr. Duff when he happened to see the numerous members of the Dutt\nfamily in Nimtollah, West of the Free Church Institution. If all the\nchildren and adults, male and female, of the family now, are counted,\nthe actual number would, if I am not mistaken, come up to near 500\npersons, perhaps more.\n\n[2] Natives are always provident enough to lay in a month's supply of\narticles which are not of a perishable nature. In the Upper and Central\nProvinces, they generally provide a twelve-months' requirements at the\nharvest season when prices are moderate. They are thus enabled to\nhusband their resources in the most economical manner possible.\n\n[3] The following scene will clearly illustrate the point. At an\nassembly of some females on a festive occasion, among other current\ntopics of the day, the conversation turned on the religion of the _Sahib\nlogues_(Europeans). Impelled by a sense of duty and justice no less than\nby the convictions of conscience, I admired the disinterested exertions\nof the Christian Missionaries in endeavouring to spread among our\nbenighted countrymen the benefits of a good education as well as the\nblessings of a good religion. Fearlessly encountering all the dangers of\nthe deep, which, happily for the cause of human advancement, have now\nbeen greatly minimized, renouncing all the pleasures of the world, and\nfortifying their minds against persecution, suffering and reproach, they\ncome, not only among us but travel through the most uncongenial climes\n\"to preach Christ.\" The remarkable disinterestedness and self-denial of\nsome of these Missionaries is a bright reality, to appreciate which is\nto appreciate Christianity. Before the propagation of the religion of\nChrist, said I, the most admired form of goodness was centred in\npatriotism or the love of one's own country, but Jesus brought with him\na new era of philanthrophy, the main pervading principle of which is a\nspirit of martyrdom in the cause of mankind. Can we find traces of such\ncatholicism in our Hindoo Shaster? The universal fatherhood of God and\nbrotherhood of man is only practically enunciated in the religion of\nChrist. The females were all struck with the noble, sublime, yet humble,\nforgiving and disinterested virtues of the religion of the _Sahib\nlogues_. But a pert young female, quite unschooled by experience and too\nmuch wedded to wordly attractions, rather thoughtlessly replied that\n\"the act of giving education is a good thing in its own way, so far as\nit affords a means of earning money, but why do the _Padrees_\n(Missionaries) strive to convert our Hindoo boys, and thereby compel\nthem to forsake their parents to whom they owe their being? What\nadvantage do they gain by such conversions? This is not good. Brahmo\nreligion does not demand any such sacrifice. Why do the heads of the\n_Padrees_ ache for this purpose? They ought to give all their money to\nus, poor women, that we may buy ornaments therewith.\" Such is the low,\ngrovelling idea they generally have of Christianity. It is useless to\nargue with them, simply because their minds are completely saturated\nwith deep-rooted prejudice, and narrow, debased, selfish views.\n\n[4] The following incident will doubtless contribute not a little to the\namusement of the reader. One day a governess was giving instructions in\nneedle-work to a young married girl of thirteen years of age. She, (the\ngirl) was industriously plying the needle, when lo! an aged female cook\nfrom the house of her husband suddenly appeared before her, and simply\nenquired of her how she was. The shy girl, overpowered by a sense of\nshame, dropped down her veil almost to the ground, and not only stopped\nwork but likewise ceased to talk to the governess. The latter struck\nwith amazement, quietly asked her pupil if she had hurt her eyes because\nshe held fast her right hand on that part of her face. Other ladies of\nthe family stepped forward and explained to the governess the real cause\nof the awkward position the girl was placed in. It was nothing more nor\nless than the unexpected visit of the female cook to the family of the\nbride. From feelings of false delicacy in presence of her husband's\ncook, she hung down her face and dropped down her veil. The governess\nlearning the true cause politely desired the female cook to retire that\nshe might be enabled to give her lessons without any interruption.\n\n[5] Whether descended from a Brahmin or Kayasth family, she goes by the\ngeneral name of _Bamun Didi_ (sister) so named that the members of other\nfamilies might unsuspectingly eat out of her hands. She is also called\n_Maye_ (woman). The entertaining of a middle aged female (generally a\nwidow) is considered safe and irreproachable.\n\n[6] In order to preserve the hair and keep it clean, all Hindu females\nin Bengal use cocoanut oil for the head; they however rub their bodies\nwith mustard oil before bathing. Young ladies occasionally use pomatum,\nbear's grease, soap, etc., which, in a religious sense, is desecration.\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\nTHE BIRTH OF A HINDOO.\n\n\nThe birth of a Hindoo into the household of which he is to form an\nessential constituent is attended with circumstances which partake, more\nor less, of the religion he inherits. It has been said that by tradition\nand instinct as well as by early habits, he is a religious character. He\nis born religiously, lives religiously, eats religiously, walks\nreligiously, writes religiously, sleeps religiously and dies\nreligiously. His every-day life is an endless succession of rites and\nceremonies which he observes with the utmost of scrupulousness\nsanctioned by divine veneration. From his very birth his mind is imbued\nwith superstitious ideas, which subsequent mental culture can hardly\never eradicate, so strong being the influence of his early impressions.\n\nIt is now generally known that Hindoo girls are betrothed even in their\ntenderest years, and that the solemnisation of the marriage takes place\nwhenever they attain to the age of puberty. Thus it is not uncommon for\na young wife to be delivered of her first child in her thirteenth year,\nalthough the glory of motherhood is more frequently not realised until\nthe fourteenth or fifteenth year. When the period of delivery arrives,\nand to her it is an awful period, which can be more easily conceived\nthan described, the girl writhing under agony is taken into a room\ncalled Sootikaghur or Antoorghur, where no male members of the family\nare admitted. She is made to wear a red-bordered robe and two images of\nthe goddess _Shashthi_ made of cowdung are placed near the threshold of\nthe room for her daily worship with rice and _durva_ grass, for one\nmonth--the period of her confinement. If in her tender age, the labor be\na protracted one, she often suffers greatly from the want of a skilful\nsurgeon or even a proper midwife. Before the founding of that noble\nInstitution, the Calcutta Medical College, proper midwives were not\nprocurable, because they had had no systematic training; their\nprofession was chiefly confined to the Dome and Bagthee caste, yet some\nof them were known to have acquired a tolerable fortune. Their fee\nvaried from 5 to 50 Rupees, besides clothes and other gifts; the poor,\ncertainly, giving less. For some years past, a strong belief has sprung\nup among some women that delivery in the name of god Hari Krishna is\nvery safe. They that follow this religious regime, are believed, in the\nmajority of cases, to have passed through the struggle of childbirth\nquite scathless. They use no _jhall_ or _thap_,[7] bathe in cold water\nimmediately after delivery, take the ordinary food of _dhall vath_,\ncurry, fish and tamarind, after offering them to the god Hari, and on\nthe 30th day make a Poojah (worship) consecrating in honor of the god a\nquantity of sweetmeats (_sundesh and batasha_) and finally distribute\nthem among children and others. This distribution is called Hariloot.\nThis strong faith in the god seems to enable them to pass the period of\nconfinement without danger. If the offspring of such women become\nstrong, their strength is attributed to the mercy of the said god.[8]\n\nA woman that follows the old prescribed practice has to take _jhall_ and\n_thap_ and go through a strict course of dietetics, abstaining\naltogether from the use of cold water or any cooling beverage. She has\nto undergo the action of heat for at least five hours a day. The body\nand head of the newborn babe is rubbed with warm mustard oil--an\napplication which is considered the best preservative of health in\nchildren. Exposure of the mother in any shape, is most strictly\nprohibited, and the use of certain indigenous drugs and warm\napplications is made as an antidote against all diseases of a puerperal\ncharacter.\n\nWhile undergoing the throes of nature, the exhausted spirit of the\nexpectant mother is buoyed up by the fond hope of having a _male_ child,\nwhich, in the estimation of a Hindoo female, is worth a world of\nsuffering.\n\nIn the event of the offspring turning out a female, her friends try to\nencourage her for the moment by their assurance that the child born is a\nmale, and a lovely and sweet child, ushered into the world under the\npeculiar auspices of the goddess Shasthi. Such assurances serve very\nmuch to keep up her spirit for the time being, but when she is brought\nto her senses and does not hear the sound of a conch[9] her delusion is\nremoved, sorrow and disappointment take the place of joy and excitement,\nher buoyant spirit collapses and a strong reaction sets in. Thus in a\nmoment, a grace is converted into a gorgon, a beauty into a monstrosity,\nan angel into a fiend. She curses the day, she curses her fate. But\n\"such is the make and mechanism of human nature\" that she soon resigns\nherself to the wise dispensations of an overruling Providence. She\ngradually feels a strong affection for the female child and rears it\nwith all the care and tenderness of a mother; she caresses and fondles\nit as if it were a boy, and her affection grows warmer as the child\ngrows. This is natural and inevitable. At the birth of a male child, the\noccurrence is immediately announced by _sanka dhani_ (sound of a conch);\nmusicians without being sent for, come and play the _tom tom_; the\nfamily barber bears the happy tidings to all the nearest relatives, and\nhe is rewarded with presents of money and cloths. Oil, sweetmeats,\nfishes, curdled milk, and other things, are presented to the relatives\nand neighbours, who, in return, offer their congratulations. A rich\nHindoo, though he studies practical domestic economy very carefully, is,\nhowever, apt to loosen his purse string at the birth of a son and heir.\nThe mother forgetting her trouble and agony implores _Bidhata_[10] for\nthe longevity of the child. She cheerfully suckles it and her heart\nswells with joy every time she looks at its face.\n\nOn the second day after delivery, she gets a little sago and _cheeray\nvajah_ (a sort of parched rice). On the third day the same diet, with\nthe addition of a single grain of boiled rice, and a little fried\npotatoe or _pull bull_, that she may use those things afterwards with\nsafety. On the fifth day, if everything is right, the room is washed and\nshe is allowed to come out of it for a short time; a little boiled rice\nand _moong dhall_ is her diet that day.\n\nOn the sixth day, the image of the goddess _Shasthi_ is worshipped in\nfront of the room where the child was born, because she is the\nprotectress of all children. The Poojah is called the _Seytayra_ Poojah\n(worship). Offerings of rice, plantain, sweetmeat, clothes, milk, &c,\nare presented to the goddess by the officiating priest, and the\nfollowing articles are kept in her room for the _Bidhata Pooroosh_ (god\nof fate) in order that he may note down unseen on the forehead of the\nchild its future destiny, _viz._, a palm leaf, a Bengalee pen with ink,\na serpent's skin, a brick from the temple of the god Shiva, and two\nkinds of fruits, _atmora_ and _veyla_, a little wool, gold and silver.\nOn the eighth day is held the ceremony of _Autcowroy_, or the\ndistribution of eight kinds of parched peas, rice, sweetmeats, with\ncowries and pice, amongst the children of the house and neighbourhood.\nOn the evening of that day, the children assemble and with a _Koolo_\n(winnowing fan) going up three times to the door of the room beat it\n(the koolo) with small sticks, asking at the same in a chorus \"as to\nhow the child is doing,\" and shouting, \"let it rest in peace on the lap\nof its mother.\" These juvenile ceremonies, if ceremonies they can be\ncalled, give infinite delight to the children, who are sometimes\nprompted by the adult members of the family to indulge in jocularity by\nway of abusing the father, not of course to irritate but to amuse him.\nAt the birth of a female child, in common with the depreciation in which\nit is held, this ceremony is observed on a very poor scale. On the\nthirty-first day after the birth, the ceremony of _Shasthi_ Poojah is\nagain performed. Hence a woman who has had as many as twelve or fifteen\nor more children, is called the _Shasthi Booree_, or \"the old woman of\nShasthi.\" Before a twig of a _Bata_ tree, the priest, while repeating\nthe usual incantation, presents offerings of rice, fruits, sweetmeats,\ncloths, parched peas and rice, oil, turmeric, betel, betel-nuts, two\neggs of a duck, and twenty-one small wicker baskets filled with _khoyee_\n(parched rice) plantain and _batasa_, which are all given to a number of\nwomen whose husbands are alive. It is on this occasion that the priest\nis also required to perform the worship of the goddess _Soobachinee_,[11]\nsaid to be one of the forms of the goddess Doorga.\n\nWhen the father first goes to see the child, he puts some gold coin into\nits hand and pours his benediction on its head. Other relatives who may\nbe present at the time do the same.\n\nAll respectable Hindoos keep an exact record of the birth of a child,\nespecially a male child. Every family has its _Dowyboghee_ or astrologer\nwho prepares a horoscope in which he notes down the day, the hour and\nthe minute of the birth of the child, opens the roll of its fate and\ndescribes what shall happen to it during the period of its existence.\nThese horoscopes are so much relied on, that if it is stated therein\nthat the stellar mansion under which the child was born was not good,\nand that it shall be exposed to serious dangers, either from sickness\nor accident, at such a period of its life, every possible care is taken\nthrough _Grohojag_ and _Sustyan_ (religious atonement) to propitiate the\ngod of fate, and ward off the apprehended danger before it comes to\npass. These papers are carefully preserved by the parents, who\noccasionally refer to them when anything, good or evil, happens to the\nchild. A Hindoo astrologer is a man of high pretensions; he dives into\nthe womb of futurity and foretells what shall happen to a man in this\nlife, without thinking for a moment, that our Creator has not vouchsafed\nto us the powers of divination. In a court of justice these papers are\nof great value in verifying the exact age of a person, and at the time\nof marriage, or rather before it, they are carefully consulted as to the\nnature of the stellar mansion under which both the boy and girl were\nborn, and the peculiar circumstances by which they were surrounded. Many\na match is broken off because the twelve signs in the zodiac do not\ncoincide; for instance, if the boy be of the _Lion rass_ (sign) and the\ngirl of the _Lamb rass_, the one, it is said, will destroy the other; so\nthese papers are of very great importance when a matrimonial alliance is\nin course of being negotiated.\n\nWhen a male child is six months old, the parents make preparations for\nthe celebration of the _Unnoprassun_, or christening, when not only a\nname is given to the child, but it gets boiled rice for the first time.\nOn this occasion, the father is required to perform a _Bidhi Shrad_ so\ncalled from the increase and preservation of the members of the family.\nSome who live near Calcutta celebrate the rite by going to Kallee Ghaut,\nand procuring a little boiled rice through one of the priests of the\nsacred fane at a cost of eight or ten Rupees. When the rice is brought\nhome a few grains are put into the mouth of the child by a male member\nof the family. The ceremony being thus performed the child from that day\nis allowed to take prepared food if necessary. Such families as do not\nchoose to go to Kallee Ghaut observe the ceremony at home, and spend\nfrom 200 to 300 Rupees in feeding the Brahmans, friends and relatives,\nwho, in return, offer their benediction and give from one to ten Rupees\neach to the child, which being shaved, clad in a silk garment, and\nadorned with gold ornaments, is brought out for the purpose after the\nentertainment. It is on such occasions that splendid dowries are settled\non some children in grants of land or of Government securities, and I\nhave known instances in which a dowry amounted to a lakh of Rupees. Of\nlate years, the practice of making gifts to the child being held in the\nobnoxious light of a tax, the good taste of some has led them to confine\nthe rite within the circumscribed limit of their own family.\nSuperstition has its influence in making the choice of the name given to\nthe child. The Hindoos are generally named after their gods and\ngoddesses, under a belief that the repetition of such names in the daily\nintercourse of life will not only absolve them from sins, but give them\npresent happiness and hope of blessedness in a state of endless\nduration. Some parents purposely give an unpleasant name to a child,\nthat may be born after repeated bereavements, believing thereby the\ncurses of the wicked shall fall innocuous on its head. Such names are\nNafar, Goburdhone, Ghooie, Tincurry, Panchcurry, Dookhi, &c. In the case\nof females, she who has many daughters, and does not wish for more,\ngives them such names as _Khaynto_ (cessation,) _Arna_ (no more,)\n_Ghyrna_ (despised,) _Chee chee_ (expression of contempt.)[12]\n\nExcept under extraordinary circumstances, a Hindoo mother[13] seldom\nengages a wet nurse; she continues to suckle her child till it is three\nor four years old, and attends at the same time to her numerous\nhousehold duties, which are by no means light or easy. Indolent\nloveliness, reclining on a sofa, is not a truthful picture of her life;\nit may be she has to cook for her husband, because he is such an\northodox Hindoo that he will on no account accept prepared food (such as\nrice, dhall, vegetables, curry, &c.) from any other hand. In such\nfamilies, the woman has to rise very early, perform her daily ablutions\nand attend to the duties of the kitchen, and before nine the breakfast\nmust be ready, as the husband has probably to attend his office at ten.\nIt is not an uncommon sight to see a woman cooking, suckling her child,\nand scolding her maid servant at one and the same time. A Hindoo woman\nis not only laborious, but patient and submissive to a degree; let the\namount of privation be ever so great, she is seldom known to murmur or\ncomplain. All her happiness is centred in the proper discharge of her\ndomestic and social duties. So simple and unambitious is a Hindoo\nfemale, that she generally considers herself amply rewarded if the food\nprepared by her hands is appreciated by those for whom it is intended.\nIt is a lamentable fact that, expert as she doubtless is in the art of\ncooking, she is totally incapable of nourishing the minds of her\nchildren with any solid intellectual food worthy of the name. As already\nindicated, she communicates to her child what she can out of her own\nstore of simple ideas and superstitious beliefs, but her best gift is\nthe care and tenderness which she lavishes upon it, and the wakening of\nits young soul to return the sense of her own love.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[7] _Jhall_ is a preparation of certain drugs to act as an antidote\nagainst cold, puerperal fever and other diseases incident to child\nbirth. It often proves efficacious. _Thap_ is the application of heat to\nthe body.\n\n[8] For observances during the period of pregnancy, see Note A in\nappendix.\n\n[9] According to custom, a conch or large shell is sounded at the birth\nof a male child. Its silence is the sign of sorrow.\n\n[10] Bidhata is the god of fate.\n\n[11] For the popular story of the goddess Soobachinee see Note B.\n\n[12] Apart from the horrid practice of female infanticide, now put a\nstop to by a humane Government, many instances might be given of the\nextreme detestation in which the birth of a girl is held even by her\nmother. Among others I may cite the following: A woman who was the\nmother of four daughters and of no son, at the time of her fifth\ndelivery laid apart one thousand Rupees for distribution among the poor\nin the event of her getting a son, when, lo! she gave birth to a female\nchild _again_, and what did she do? she at once flung aside the money,\nmournfully declaring at the same time, that \"she has already four\nfirebrands incessantly burning in her bosom and this is the _fifth_,\nwhich is enough to burn her to death.\"\n\n[13] In cases where a woman is prolific enough to give birth to a child\nevery year she is placed under the necessity of weaning her first-born,\nand giving it cow milk, a mode of sustenance not at all conducive to its\nhealth.\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\nTHE HINDOO SCHOOL BOY.\n\n\nFrom the time when the young Hindoo passes from the infant stage of\n\"mewling and puking in the nurse's arms,\" till he goes to school, he is\ngenerally a bright-eyed, active, playful boy, full of romping spirits\nand a favourite of all around him. His diet is light, and his health\ngenerally good. He usually runs about for three or four years _in puris\nnaturalibus_, and among the lower classes a string is tied round his\nloins with a metal charm attached to frighten away the evil spirits.\nWhen he attains the age of five, the period fixed by his parents for the\nbeginning of his education, he is sent to a _Patsala_ (vernacular infant\nschool) not, however, without making a Poojah to _Saraswattee_, the\ngoddess of learning. On the day appointed, and it must be a lucky day,\naccording to the Hindoo almanac, the child bathes and puts on a new\n_Dhooty_ (garment) and is taken to the place of worship, where the\nofficiating priest has previously made all the necessary arrangements.\nRice, fruits, and sweetmeats, are then offered to the goddess, who is\nreligiously invoked to pour her benediction on the head of the child.\nAfter this, the priest takes away all the things offered to the goddess,\nwith his usual gift of one or two rupees, and the child is taken by his\nparents to the _Patsala_ and formally introduced to the\n_Gooroomahashoy_, or master of the school. Curious as little children\nnaturally are, all present gaze on the new comer as if he were a being\nof a strange species. But time soon wears off the gloss of novelty and\neverything assumes its normal aspect. The old boys soon become familiar\nwith the new one, and a sort of intimacy almost unconsciously springs up\namongst them. In this country a boy learns the letters of the alphabet,\nnot by pronouncing them, but by writing them on the ground with a small\npiece of _kharee_, or soft stone, and copying them over and over again\nuntil he thoroughly masters them. Five letters are set him at a time.\nAfter this he is taught to write on palm leaves with a wooden pen and\nink, then on slate and green plantain leaves, and, finally, on paper. At\nevery stage of his progress he is expected to make some present to his\nmaster in the shape of food, clothes and money. A village school begins\nearly in the morning, and continues till eleven, after which the boys\nare allowed to go home for their breakfast; they return at two, and\nremain in the school till evening, when all the boys are made to stand\nup in a systematic order, and one of the most advanced amongst them\nenumerates aloud the multiplication and numeration tables, and all are\ntaught to repeat and commit to memory what they hear. By the daily\nrepetition of these tables, their power of memory is practically\nimproved. With a view to encourage the early attendance of the boys, a\n_Gooroomahashoy_ resorts to the queer method of introducing the\n_hathchory_ system into his _Patsala_, which requires that all the boys\nare to have stripes of the cane in arithmetical progression, on the\nhand, in the order of their attendance, that is, the first comer to have\none stripe, the second two, and so on, in consecutive order. The last\nboy is sometimes made to stand on one leg for an hour or so to the\ninfinite amusement of the early comers. The system certainly has a good\neffect in ensuring early attendance.\n\nThe course of instruction in such schools embraces reading in the\nvernacular, a little of arithmetic and writing, and such as become\ncapable of keeping accounts pass for the clever boys. Stupid and wicked\npupils are generally beaten with a cane, but their names are never\nstruck off the register, as is the case in English schools. Sometimes a\ntruant is compelled to stand on one leg holding up a brick in his right\nhand, or to have his arms stretched out till he is completely exhausted.\nAnother mode of punishment consists in applying the leaves of _Bichooty_\n(a stinging plant) to the back of a naughty boy, who naturally smarts\nunder the torturing. The infliction of such cruel punishments sometimes\nleads the boys to make a combination against the master for the purpose\nof retaliation, which generally results in bringing him to his senses.\nHindoo boys are extremely sensitive, and are very apt to resent any\naffront to which they are cruelly subjected by their master.[14] The\nrate of fee in a village school is from one to three-pence a head per\nmonth, but the master has his perquisites by way of victuals and pice.\nThere is a common saying among the Hindoos that in twelve months there\nare thirteen _parbuns_, or school festivals, implying thereby, that they\nare encountered by a continuous round of _parbuns_. On every such\noccasion the boys are expected to bring presents for the master, and any\nunfortunate boy who fails to bring such is denied the usual indulgence\nof a holiday. Little boys are seldom fond of reading, they would gladly\nsacrifice anything to purchase a holiday. It is not an uncommon thing to\nfind a boy steal pice from his mother's box in order to satisfy the\ndemands of his master at the festival. The principle on which a village\nschool is conducted is essentially defective in this respect. Instead of\nteaching the rules of good conduct and enforcing the first principles of\nmorality, it often sadly defeats the primary object of a good education,\nnamely, the formation of a sound, moral and virtuous character. It is a\ndisgrace to hear a schoolmaster, whose conduct should be the grand focus\nof moral excellence, use the most vulgar epithets towards his pupils for\nlittle faults the effects of which are seldom obliterated from their\nminds, even in the more advanced period of their life. However, such\ndays of obnoxious pedagogism are almost gone by, never to come back\nagain, now that the system of primary education has been extended to\nalmost every village in India, under the auspices of our liberal\nGovernment. Whilst on this subject I may as well state here that some\nforty years ago our Government had appointed the late Rev. William Adam\nto be the Commissioner of Education in Bengal. That highly talented and\ngenerous philanthrophist, after a minute and searching investigation,\nsubmitted in his report to Government a scheme of education very similar\nto what is now introduced throughout Bengal. The scheme was then ignored\non account of its vast expense, and the Commissioner was so disheartened\nat the apathy of Government towards the education of the masses, that a\nfew days before his departure from Calcutta he took a farewell leave of\nsome of his most distinguished native friends, and his parting words\nwere to the following effect: \"Your Government is not disposed to\nencourage those who are its real friends.\" This reproach has, however,\nbeen subsequently removed by the adoption of a primary system of\neducation. The spirit of the times and the onward progress of\nenlightened sentiments have gradually inaugurated a comprehensive\nscheme, which, although still limited in its range, embraces the moral\nand intellectual improvement of the people in general.\n\nIn Calcutta, when a boy is six years old, his parents are anxious to\nhave him admitted into one of the public schools, where he has an\nopportunity to learn both the Vernacular and the English languages. He\nmay be said from that day to enter on the first stage of his\nintellectual disintegration. The books that are put into his hands\ngradually open his eyes and expand his intellect; he learns to discern\nwhat is right and what is wrong; he reasons within himself and finds\nthat what he had learnt at home was not true, and is led by degrees to\nrenounce his old ideas. Every day brings before his mind's eye the grand\ntruths of Western knowledge, and he feels an irresistible desire, not\nonly to test their accuracy but to advance farther in his scholastic\ncareer. He is too young however, to weigh well everything that comes in\nhis way, but as he advances he finds the light of truth illumine his\nmind. His parents, if orthodox Hindoos, necessarily feel alarmed at his\nnew-fledged ideas and try to counteract their influence by the\nstereotyped arguments, of the wisdom of our forefathers, but however\ninimically disposed, they dare not stop his progress, because they see,\nin almost every instance, that English education is the surest passport\nto honor and distinction. In this manner he continues to move through\nthe various classes of the middle schools till he is advanced to one of\nthe higher educational institutions connected with the University, and\nattains his sixteenth or seventeenth year, which is popularly regarded\nas his marriageable age.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[14] _Apropos_, I may mention here the following incident. A few years\nback a well-known master of the Hindoo school being placed in a very\nawkward position, had to call in the aid of the Police to get himself\nout of the difficulty. Sailors and Kaffries--always a set of desperate\ncharacters--were retained by the boys for the purpose of insulting him\non the high road, but the timely interference of the Police put a stop\nto the contemplated brutal assault. This had the effect of inducing the\nmaster to behave in future with greater forbearance, if not with more\nsober judgment. I forbear giving the name of the indiscreet, but\nwell-intentioned master, whose connection with the school had\ncontributed very largely to its efficiency and usefulness.\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\nVOWS OF HINDOO GIRLS.\n\n\nWhen a girl is five years of age, she is initiated by an elderly woman\nin the preparatory rites of _Bratas_, or vows, the primary object of\nwhich is to secure her a good husband, and render her religious and\nhappy throughout life. When the boy is sent to the Patsala, the girl is\ncommonly forbidden to read or write, but has to begin her course of\nBratas. The germs of superstition being thus early implanted in her\nmind, she is more or less influenced by it ever after. Formed by nature\nto be docile, pliant and susceptible, she readily takes to the initial\ncourse of religious exercises.\n\nThe first rite with which she has to commence is called the \"Shiva\nPoojah,\" after the example of the goddess Doorga, who performed this\nceremonial that she might obtain a good husband; and Shiva is regarded\nas a model husband. On the 30th day of Choytro, being the last day of\nthe Bengallee year, she is required to make two little earthen images of\nthe above goddess, and placing them on the coat of a bale-fruit (wood\napple) with leaves, she begins to perform her worship; but before doing\nso, she is enjoined to wash herself and change her clothes, a\nrequisition which enforces, thus early, cleanliness and purity in habits\nand manners, if not exactly in thought and feeling. Her mind being\nfilled with germinal susceptibilities, she imbibes almost instinctively\nan increasing predilection for the performance of religious ceremonies.\nSprinkling a few drops of holy water on the heads of the images, she\nrepeats the following words: \"All homage to Shiva, all homage to Shiva,\nall homage to _Hara_, (another name of Shiva); all homage to Bujjara,\"\nmeaning two small earthen balls, like peas, which are stuck on the body\nof the images. She is then to be absorbed in meditation about the form\nand attributes of the goddess, and afterwards says her prayers three\ntimes in connection with Doorga's various names, which I need not\nrecapitulate here. Offerings of flowers and bale leaves are then\npresented to the goddess with an incantation. Being pleased, Mahadev\n(Shiva) is supposed to ask from heaven what Brata or religious ceremony\nis Gouri (Doorga) performing? Gouri replies, she is worshipping Shiva,\nthat she may get him for her husband, because, as said before, Shiva is\na model husband.\n\nThen comes the Brata of Hari or Krishna. The two feet of the god being\npainted in white sandal paste on a brass plate, the girl worships him\nwith flowers and sandal paste. The god seeing this, is supposed to ask\nwhat girl worships his feet, and what boon she wants? She replies: May\nthe prince of the kingdom be her husband, may she be beautiful and\nvirtuous, and be the mother of seven wise and virtuous sons and two\nhandsome daughters. She asks that her daughters-in-law may be\nindustrious and obedient, that her sons-in-law may shine in the world by\ntheir good qualities, that her granary and farm-yard may be always full,\nthe former with corn of all sorts, and the latter with milch cows, that\nwhen she dies all those who are near and dear to her may enjoy long life\nand prosperity, and that she may eventually, through the blessing of\nHari, die on the banks of the sacred Ganges, and thereby pave the way\nfor her entrance into heaven.\n\nIt is worthy of remark here that even young Hindoo girls, in the\nexercise of their immature discretion, make distinction between the gods\nin the choice of their husbands. In the first Brata, that of Shiva, a\ntender girl of five years of age is taught, almost unconsciously as it\nwere, to prefer him to Krishna for her husband, because the latter,\naccording to the Hindoo Shasters, is reputed to have borne a\nquestionable character. I once asked a girl why she would not have\nKrishna for her husband. She promptly answered that that god disported\nwith thousands of Gopeenees (milk-maids) and was therefore not a _good_\ngod, while Shiva was devotedly attached to his one wife, Doorga. The\nexplanation was full of significance from a moral and religious point of\nview.\n\nThe third Brata refers to the worship of ten images. This requires that\nthe girl should paint on the floor ten images of deified men, as well as\nof gods, with _alapana_ or rice paste. Offering them flowers and sandal\npaste, she asks that she may have a father-in-law like Dasarath, the\nfather of Ram Chunder; a mother-in-law like Kousala, the mother of Ram\nChunder; a husband like Ram Chunder; a _dayur_ or husband's brother,\nlike Luchmon, Ram's younger brother; a mother like Shasthi, whose\nchildren are all alive; like Koontee whose three sons were renowned for\ntheir love of justice, piety, courage and heroism; like Ganges, whose\nwater allays the thirst of all; like the mother earth, whose patience is\nbeyond all comparison. And, to crown the whole, she prays that she may,\nlike Doorga, be blessed with an affectionate and devoted husband like\nDropadi (the wife of the five Pandooas), be justly remarkable for her\nindustry, devotedness and skill in the culinary art, and be like Sita\n(the wife of Ram Chunder) whose chastity and attachment to her husband\nare worthy of all praise. The above three Bratas take place in the\nBengalee month of Bysack, (April) which is popularly regarded as a good\nmonth for the performance of meritorious works. The prayer contained in\nthe above expresses the culminating female wish in entire accord with\nthe injunctions of the holy shaster, but how often are the amiable\nqualities enumerated above set at naught in the actual conflicts of\nlife, in which the predominance of evil desires swallows up every\ngenerous impulse!\n\nThe next Brata is called the _Sajooty_ Brata. It is solely intended to\ncounteract the thousand evils of polygamy--an unhealthy, unnatural\ninstitution, which ought to be expunged from the midst of every\ncivilized community. Though God \"has stamped no original characters on\nour minds wherein we may read his being,\" still we can clearly discern\nin His superior arrangements for the happiness of His creatures, that\nthis abnormal practice is directly opposed to His dispensations, so much\nso that any one countenancing it, is guilty of a crime, for which, if he\nis not amenable to an earthly tribunal, he is assuredly accountable to a\nsuperior and superintending Being, the infringement of whose law is sure\nto be attended with misery. To get rid of the consequences of this\nmonstrous evil, a girl of five years of age is taught to offer her\ninvocation to God, and in the outburst of her juvenile feeling is almost\ninvoluntarily led to indulge in all manner of curses and imprecations\nagainst the possible rival of her bed. Nor can we find fault with her\nconduct, because \"an overmastering and brooding sense\" of some great\nfuture calamity thus early haunts her mind.\n\nIn performing the _Sajooty Brata_, the girl paints on the floor with\nrice paste a variety of things, such as the bough of a flower tree, a\nPalkee containing a man and a woman, with the sun and moon over it, the\nGanges and the Jumna with boats on them, the temple of Mahadeo with\nMahadeo in it, various ornaments of gold and precious stones, houses,\nmarkets, garden, granary, farm-yard and a number of other things, all\nintended to represent worldly prosperity. After painting the above, she\ninvokes Mahadeo and prays for his blessing. An elderly lady more\nexperienced in domestic matters then begins to dictate, and the girl\nrepeats a volley of abuses and curses against her _Sateen_ or rival wife\nin the possible future.\n\n  \"There, stripped, fair rhetoric languished on the ground,\n  And shameful Billingsgate her robes adorn.\"\n\nThe following are a few of the specimens; I wish I could have\ntranscribed them in metre.:--\n\n    \"_Barrey, Barrey, Barrey_ (a cooking utensil)\n  May _Sateen_ become a slave!\n    _Khangra, Khangra, Khangra_, (broomstick)\n  May _Sateen_ be exposed to infamy!\n    _Hatha, Hatha, Hatha_, (a cooking utensil)\n  May she devour her _Sateen's_ head!\n    _Geelay, Geelay, Geelay_ (a fruit)\n  May _Sateen_ have spleen!\n    _Pakee, Pakee, Pakee_ (bird)\n  May _Sateen_ die and may she see her from the top of her house!\n    _Moyna, Moyna, Moyna_ (bird)\n  May she never be cursed with a _Sateen_!\"\n\nMay she cut an _Usath_ tree, erect a house there, cause her _Sateen_ to\ndie and paint her feet with her _Sateen's_ blood!\n\nI might swell the list of these curses, but I fear they would prove\ngrating to the ears of civilized readers.\n\nThe performance of the _Sajooty Brata_ springs out of a desire to see a\n_Sateen_ or rival wife become the victim of all manner of evils,\nextending even to the loss of life itself, simply because a plurality of\nwives is the source of perpetual disquietude and misery. By nature, a\nwoman is so constituted that she can never bear the sight of a rival\nwife. In civilized countries, the evil is partially remediable by a\nlegal separation, but in Hindoostan the legislature makes no provision\nwhatever for its suppression. A feeling of burning jealousy becomes\nrampant wherever there is a case of polygamy to poison the perennial\nsource of domestic felicity. So acutely sensitive is a Hindoo lady in\nthis respect that she would rather suffer the miseries of widowhood than\nbe cursed with the presence of a _Sateen_, whose very name almost\nspontaneously awakens in her mind the bitterest and the most envenomed\nfeelings. She can make up her mind to give away a share of her most\nvaluable worldly enjoyments, but she can never give a share of her\nhusband's _affection_ to any one on earth. To enjoy the exclusive\nmonopoly of a husband's love is the life-long prayer of a Hindoo female.\nShe expresses it in the incipient stage of her girlhood, and practically\ncarries it with her until the last spark of life becomes extinct. This\ncertainly indicates the prompting of a very strong _natural_ feeling.\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\nMARRIAGE CEREMONIES.\n\n\nThe Hindoos have a strong belief that to solemnise the marriage of their\nchildren at an early age, is a meritorious act as discharging one of the\nprimary obligations of life. They are, therefore, very anxious to have\ntheir sons and daughters formally married during their own life-time.\nSometimes children are pledged to each other even in infancy, by the\nmutual agreement of the parents; and in most cases the girl is married\nwhen a mere child of from eight to ten years, all unconscious as yet of\nthe real meaning and obligations of the relation, although her girlish\nfancies have been continually directed to it. Matches in the case of\ngood families are commonly brought about in the following way.\n\nWhen an unmarried boy attains his seventeenth or eighteenth year,\nnumbers of professional men called _Ghatucks_ or match-makers come to\nthe parents with overtures of marriage. These men are destitute of\nprinciple, they know how to pander to the frailties of human nature;\nmost of them being gross flatterers, endeavour to impose on the parents\nin the most barefaced manner. As they live on their wits, their\ndescriptive powers and insinuating manners are almost matchless. When\nthe qualities of a girl are to be commended, they, indulging in a strain\nof exaggeration, unblushingly declare, \"she is beautiful as a full moon,\nthe symmetry of her person is exact, her teeth are like the seeds of a\npomegranate, her voice is remarkably sweet like that of the cuckoo, her\ngait is graceful, she speaks like the goddess _Luckee_, and will bring\nfortune to any family she may be connected with.\" The Hindoos have a\nnotion that the good fortune of a husband depends on that of the wife,\nhence a woman is considered as an emblem of _Luckee_, the goddess of\nfortune. This is the highest commendation she can possess.[15]\n\nIf the qualities of a youth are to be appraised, they describe him thus:\nhe is as beautiful as _Kartick_ (the god of beauty), his deportment is\nthat of a nobleman, he is free from all vices, he studies day and night,\nin short, he is a precious gem and an ornament of the neighbourhood. The\nHindoos know very well that the _Ghatucks_ as a body are great\nimpostors, and do not believe half that these people say. From the day a\nmatrimonial alliance is proposed, the parents on both sides begin to\nmake all sorts of preliminary enquiries as to the unblemished nature of\nthe caste, respectability and position in society of the parties\nconcerned. When fully satisfied on these points, they give their verbal\nconsent to the proposed union, but not before the father of the boy has\ndemanded of the father of the girl a certain number of gold and silver\nornaments, as well as of _Barabharun_, _i. e._, silver and brass\nutensils, couch, &c. exclusive of (with but few exceptions) a certain\namount of money in lieu of _Foolshajay_.[16] Before proceeding further,\nI should observe that of late years a great change has taken place in\nthe profession of the _Ghatucks_. The question of marriage, though not\nabsolutely, yet chiefly, is a question the solution of which rests with\nthe females. Their voice in such matters has a preponderating influence.\nAvailing themselves of this powerful agency a new class of female\n_Ghatucks_ or rather _Ghatkees_ have sprung up among the people. Hence\nthe occupation of the male _Ghatucks_ is nearly gone, except in rare\ncases where nice points of caste distinction are to be decided. The\ngreat influences of _Shibi Ghatkee_ and _Badnee's_ mother--two very\npopular female _Ghatkees_,--is well known to the respectable Hindoo\ncommunity of Calcutta. These two women have made a decent fortune by\nplying this trade. Though certainly not gifted with the imaginative\npowers of a poetic bard of Rajpootana,[17] their suasive influence is\nvery telling. They have the rare faculty of making and unmaking matches.\nFrom the superior advantage which their sex affords them, they have a\nfree access to the inner apartments of a house (even if it were that of\na millionaire)--a privilege their male rivals can never expect to enjoy.\nWhen balked by the subtlety of a competitor in trade, by their bathos\nthey contrive to break a match. Their representations regarding a\nproposed union seldom fail to exercise a great influence on the minds of\nthe Zenana females. Relying on the accuracy of their description, which\nsometimes turns out exaggerated, if not false, the mother and other\nladies are often led to give their consent to a proposed union. The\nhusband, swayed by the counsel and importunity of his wife, is forced to\nacquiesce in her choice. He cannot do otherwise because, as our friend,\nBaboo Keshub Chunder Sen, has very facetiously observed, \"man is a noun\nin the objective case governed by the active verb woman.\"[18]\n\nWhen a _Ghatkee_ comes up with the proposal of a matrimonial alliance\nwith an educated youth, the first question generally asked her is, \"Has\nhe passed his examinations?\" If so, how many _passes_ has he got?\nmeaning thereby how many examinations of the University has he passed\nthrough? \"Has he yet any Jalpany or scholarship?\" These are difficult\nquestions which must be satisfactorily answered before a negotiation can\nbe effected. That a University degree has raised the marriageable value\nof a boy, there can be no doubt. If he have successfully passed some of\nthese examinations and got a scholarship, his parents, naturally priding\nthemselves on their valuable acquisition, demand a preposterously long\ncatalogue of gold ornaments, which, it is not often in the power of a\nfamily in middling circumstances easily to bestow. The parents of the\ngirl, on the other hand, seeing the long list, demur at first to give\ntheir consent, but their demurring is of no avail; marry their daughter,\nthey must. The present ruinous scale of nuptial expenses must be\nsubmitted to at any sacrifice, and after deep cogitation they send a\nrevised schedule, (as if marriage were a mere matter of traffic) taking\noff from it some costly items, which would press heavily on the purse.\nIn this manner the _Ghatkee_ continually goes backwards and forwards for\nsome time, proposing concessions on both sides and holding out delusive\nhopes of future advantages in the event of the carrying out of the\nmarriage. There is a trite saying among the Hindoos, that \"a matrimonial\nalliance could not be completed without uttering a lakh of words.\"\n\nThe parents of the girl on whose head falls the greatest burden, are\neventually made to succumb from a consideration of their having secured\na desirable match, namely, a _passed_ student. If not placed in affluent\ncircumstances, as is generally the case, they are obliged to raise the\nrequisite sum of money by loan, which sows, in many instances, the seeds\nof much future embarrassment. At a very moderate calculation, a\ntolerably respectable marriage now-a-days costs between two and three\nthousand Rupees (about L200),--sometimes more. There is another native\nadage which says, \"we want twine for thatching and money for wedding.\" A\nrespectable Hindoo gentleman who has four or five daughters to give in\nmarriage and whose income is not large, is often reduced to the greatest\ndifficulty and embarrassment by reason of the extravagantly enormous\nexpenses of a marriage. The rich do not care much what they are required\nto spend. All that they look for is a desirable match. It is the middle\nand poorer classes, who form by far the largest aggregate of population\nin every country, that suffer most severely from the present enhanced\nscale of matrimonial charges. The late Rajah Rajkissen, Baboos Ramdoolal\nDey,[19] Nemy Churn Mullick and other Hindoo millionaires, spent\nextraordinary sums of money on the marriage of their sons. The amount in\neach instance far exceeded a lakh of Rupees. The annals of Rajasthan\nfurnish numerous instances of lavish expenditure, varying from five to\nten lakhs of Rupees and upwards, on the solemnization of nuptials. There\nwas a spirit of rivalry which animated the princes to surpass each other\nin magnificence and splendour on such occasions, regardless alike of the\nstate of their exchequer, and the demoralizing effects of such conduct.\nMarriages in such a magnificent style are seldom to be seen in Calcutta\nnow-a-days, not because of the distaste of the people for such\nfrivolities, but because of the lamentable decline and impoverishment of\nthe former magnates of the land. It is painful to contemplate that the\npresent scale of expenditure among the middle classes has been in an\ninverse ratio to their income. The exertions made sometime ago by\nMoonshee Peary Lall for the reduction of marriage expenses would have\ndoubtless conferred a lasting boon on the Hindoo community in general,\nif the object had been crowned with success, but as the Legislature has\nno control over such matters, relating as they do to purely private\naffairs, the noble scheme resulted in failure. It is quite optional with\nparties to go to heavy expenses on such occasions; no act of Government\nwithout the voice of the people could restrain them in this respect. Any\nsocial reform to be permanent and effectual must be carried out by the\nuniversal suffrages of the people.\n\nWhen the preliminaries of a marriage are settled, a person, on each\nside, is deputed by turns to see the boy and the girl. It is customary\nto see the girl first. When the friends of the bridegroom, therefore,\ncome for the purpose, they sit down in the outer apartment of the house,\nwhilst the bride is engaged in her toilet duty. After fifteen or twenty\nminutes, she, glittering in jewels and accompanied by a maid servant as\nwell as by the _Ghatkee_, makes her appearance. The first thing she does\nin entering the room is to make a _pranam_ or bow to all present, and\nthen she is asked to squat down on the clean white sheet spread on the\nfloor. A solemn pause ensues for a minute or so, when one of the\ncompany, more officious than the rest, breaks the silence by putting to\nher a few questions. She naturally feels herself somewhat out of her\nelement in the midst of so many strangers, and unconsciously shows a\nsort of embarrassment even of self conflict almost distressing to\nwitness. This internal agitation of feeling, arising partly from modesty\nand partly from anxiety, causes her even to stammer. Her engrossing\nthought for the time being is, according to the early vow she has made,\nthat she may have a _good_ husband with lots of jewels. \"What is your\nname, mother?\" is the first question. She may diffidently reply in a\nhalf suppressed tone \"_Gri Balla_.\" \"Who is that sitting before\nyou?\"--perhaps pointing to the girl's father. She says, \"My father.\"\n\"Can you read and write?\" If she say, \"yes,\" she is asked to read a\nlittle out of her book.\n\nThe _Ghatkee_ here plays the part of a panegyrist by admiring the\namiable qualities of the girl, who, she adds, is the very type of\n_Luckee_ (the goddess of prosperity.) While this examination is going on\nin the outer apartment, the anxious mother, whose heart beats with\nthrobbing sensations while watching the scene from behind a half closed\nwindow, does not feel herself at ease, until she hears that her daughter\nhas acquitted herself creditably. Before the girl leaves the room, the\nfather or brother of the boy puts a gold mohur into her hand as a\ntangible proof of approval and bids her retire. It is needless to say,\nthat she feels herself relieved, quite glad and free, when she again\nsees the faces of her mother and sisters, whose joy returns with her\nreturn.\n\nThis interview is called _pucca dheykha_ or the confirmatory visit. All\nthe Brahmins, _Ghatucks_ and _Ghatkees_, and other Koolins who may be\npresent on the occasion receive two or four Rupees each. The servants of\nthe house are not forgotten, they too receive each a Rupee. If this\ninterview take place in the morning, the parties return home without\nbreakfast, it being customary with them not to eat anything before\nbathing and performing their daily worship. If in the evening, they are\ntreated to a good dinner consisting of the best fruits of the season,\nsweet and sour milk and sweetmeats of various kinds. It is on such\nceremonious occasions, that the Hindoos make a display of their wealth\nby serving the dinner to their new friends with silver salvers, plates,\nglasses and _paundan_, (betel box). Almost every respectable gentleman\nkeeps a good assortment of these silver articles. They are, however,\nreserved for special purposes, and used only on special occasions. As a\nrule, the people are not fond of investing their money, like Europeans,\nin plated-ware, because it is, comparatively speaking, of little\nexchangeable value in times of need and distress.\n\nIt is now the turn of the boy to be examined in a similar way as to his\nscholastic acquirements. When the father and the relatives of the girl\npay a return visit, they generally bring with them a graduate of the\nUniversity. Should the boy be one who has successfully passed the\nMatriculation standard, he is not subjected to so strict an examination\nas one who does not enjoy the same dignity. In both cases, however, they\nmust undergo some examination in English literature, composition,\ngrammar, history, &c. It is a noteworthy fact that a boy however\nintelligent and expert in other respects, betrays a lamentable\ndeficiency, arising from diffidence, when required to undergo an\nexamination in the presence of his father-in-law and a University\ngraduate. The thought of failure acts as a heavy incubus on his mind. He\nfinds himself bewildered in a maze of confusion. If he do not actually\nstammer, he talks at least very slowly and diffidently, and if called\nupon to write, his hand shakes, and in fact he becomes extremely\nnervous. After this trial is over, the boy retires with mingled feelings\nof misgiving and complacence. He receives, however, in his turn a gold\nmohur. The gentlemen who had come to see him are then asked to a dinner\nin the way described above. The same display of silver-ware is made on\nthe occasion, and nearly the same amount of presents of money made to\nthe Brahmins, Koolins and others.\n\nWhen both parties are satisfied as to the desirableness of the union, a\ngood day is fixed for drawing a _pattra_ or written agreement in which,\nsay, a Koolin of superior caste, engages in writing to give his son in\nmarriage with the daughter of either a second Koolin, or, as is often\nthe case of a Mowleek, an inferior in caste. This _Pattra_ is written by\na Brahmin on Bengallee paper with Bengallee pen and ink (as if English\nwriting materials would desecrate such a sacred contract) and must\nconsist of an odd number of lines, such as seven or nine lines. An\ninvocation of the Butterfly must head the _Pattra_, the purport of which\nwill run as follows: \"I, Ram Chunder Bose, do engage to give my second\nson, Gopeenauth Bose, in marriage with Nobinmoney Dossee, the eldest\ndaughter of Issen Chunder Dutt, who is also bound by his contract; the\nmarriage to be solemnized on a day to be named hereafter.\" Here the\nsignatures of both the fathers as well as of the witnesses follow. When\nfinished, it is rolled up in red thread. The _Koolin_ gentleman hands it\nto the _Mowleek_ gentleman, when the latter embraces the former, and\ngives him at the same time _Koola marjada_ and _Pattra Darshanee_, as a\nmark of respect for his superior caste,--or about fifty Rupees. The\narticles required for the matrimonial contract are paddy, doov grass,\nturmeric, betel leaf, betel-nuts, sandal paste, cowries (small shells)\nand _alta_[20] all which are considered as conducive to the future\nwelfare of the boy[21] and girl. When the contract is religiously\nratified, a couple of conchs--one for the bridegroom and another for the\nbride--are sounded by the females, announcing the happy conclusion of\nthis important preliminary, at which all hearts are exhilarated.\nArrangements are now being made for the dinner of all who may be present\nat the time. Sometimes fifty to sixty persons are fed. Every care is\ntaken to provide a good dinner for the delectation of the guests and a\n_Pattra_ on this scale costs from 300 to 400 Rupees. The Brahmins,\nKoolins, and others, receive, as usual, presents of money and return\nhome replenished in body as well as in purse.\n\nIt is worthy of remark that though the distinction of caste still exerts\nits influence on all the important concerns of our social and domestic\nlife, it is nevertheless fast losing its prestige in the estimation of\nthe enlightened Hindoos. In former days a Koolin occupied a prominent\nposition in society, be his character what it might, but now-a-days the\nrapid spread of English education, and the manifold advantages derivable\nfrom it, has practically impaired his influence and lowered his dignity.\nA _Koolin_ who happens to be the father of a girl married to a\n_Mowleek_, is, in the present day, degraded into the rank of his\ntraditional inferior, simply because he is the father of the girl; he\nmust even be prepared to submit to all sorts of humiliation and continue\nto serve the _Mowleek_ father of the boy as long as the connection\nlasts. At every popular festival for at least one year he must,\naccording to his rank, make suitable presents to his son-in-law, failing\nwhich a latent feeling of discontent arises which eventually ripens into\nbitter misunderstanding.\n\nBut to return to the marriage contract. After the entertainment, both\nparties consult the almanac and fix a day for the ceremony, called\n_Gatray haridra_ or the anointment of the boy with turmeric. On that day\nthe bridegroom, after bathing and putting on a red bordered cloth,[22]\nis made to stand on a grindstone surrounded by four plantain trees,\nwhile five women (one must be of Brahmin caste) whose husbands are\nalive, go round him five or seven times, anoint his body with turmeric,\nand touch his forehead at one and the same time with holy water, betel,\nbetel-nuts, a _Sree_ made of rice paste in the shape of a sugarloaf, and\ntwenty other little articles consisting of several kinds of peas, rice,\npaddy, gold, silver, &c. From this day, the boy carries about a pair of\nsilver nut-crackers, and the girl a pair of _kajulnatha_,[23] which must\nremain with them till the solemnization of the nuptials, for the purpose\nof repelling evil spirits. A little of the turmeric paste with which the\nbody of the bridegroom was anointed is sent by the family barber to the\nbride in a silver cup, her body is also anointed with it. A number of\nother gifts follow, namely, a large brass vessel of oil, various kinds\nof perfumery, three pieces of cloth (one must be a richly embroidered\nBenares _saree_, one Dacca, and the other red bordered), a small carpet,\na silk musnud with pillows, two mats, some gold trinkets for the head, a\nfew baskets of sweetmeats, some large fishes, sweet and sour milk, and a\nfew garlands of flowers, &c., all which cost from two to three hundred\nRupees, or sometimes more. A rich man sometimes gives a pair of diamond\ncombs and flowers for the hair, of the value of two thousand Rupees and\nupwards. From this, an idea may be formed as to the lavish expenditure\nof the Hindoos on marriages, even in these hard times. A _few_ can\nafford it, but the _many_ are put to their wits'-end in meeting the\ndemands thus made upon them.\n\nTwo or three days after the ceremony of anointment, the Bengali almanac\nis again consulted, and a lucky day is appointed for the celebration of\n_Ahibarrabhat_, so called from its being a feast given just before the\nwedding. On this occasion the father of the bridegroom gives a grand\nentertainment to the male relatives of the family. As a counterpart to\nthe same the father of the bride gives a similar entertainment to the\nfemale relatives of his own family, with this difference only, that in\nthe case of the former no Palkees are required, whereas in the case of\nthe latter these covered conveyances have to be engaged for bringing in\nthe females. In either case the number of guests generally varies from\ntwo to three hundred, and as the present style of living among the\nHindoos in the metropolis has become more expensive than that which\nprevailed in the good old days, partly from a vain desire to make an\nambitious display of wealth, and partly from the unprecedentedly rapid\nincrease of the population, which has, as a necessary sequence,\nconsiderably raised the prices of all kind of provisions, an\nentertainment of this nature costs from four to five hundred Rupees on\neach side. The very best kinds of _loochees_, _kocharees_, vegetable\ncurries, fruits, sweetmeats[24] and other delicacies of the season are\nto be provided for this special occasion.\n\nEnglish friends are often invited to the marriages of rich families in\nCalcutta and regaled with all sorts of delicacies from the Great Eastern\nHotel. \"The family mansion is splendidly furnished and brilliantly\nilluminated. There is literally a profusion of pictures and chandeliers.\nAll the furniture and surroundings are indicative more of an English\nthan of a Native house. Dancing girls are hired to impart _eclat_ to the\nscene. A _nabat_ covered with tinsel is put up in front of the house,\nwhere native musicians play at intervals, much to the satisfaction of\nthe mother of the bridegroom and the boys of the neighbourhood, and a\ntemporary scaffolding made of bamboos and ornamental paper is erected on\nthe highway in the form of a crescent bearing on it the inscription,\n\"God save the bridegroom.\" Male and female servants receiving presents\nof gold and silver bangles move about the house gaily dressed in red\nuniform, or clothes. As tangible memorials of the happy union, presents\nof large brass pots, with oil, plates with sweetmeats, fruits, and\nclothes, &c., are largely distributed among the Brahmins and numerous\nfriends and relatives of the family. This present is called _Samajeek_.\nWith the exception of Brahmins, who are content with offering hollow\nbenedictions, in which the sacerdotal class, as a rule, is so very\nliberal, everyone else who receives them makes in return presents of\nclothes and sweetmeats, the nearest relatives making the most costly\nones. In times of great _logansha_, _i. e._, when numerous marriages\ntake place, the demand for clothes and sweetmeats is really enormous.\nDealers in those things make a harvest of profit and \"the town becomes a\njubilee of feasts.\"\n\nDuring the night preceding the marriage, the women of both the families\nscarcely sleep, being busily engaged in making all sorts of preparations\nfor the next day. Very early in the morning, five _Ayows_, or females\nwhose husbands are alive, take with them a light, a knife, a _Sree_, a\n_Brundala_, containing sundry little articles, described before, a small\nbrass pot, some sweetmeats, _choora_ and _moorkee_, oil, betel,\nbetel-nuts and turmeric, and go to the nearest tank, sounding a conch,\nand touching the water with the knife, fill the brass pot with water.\nThe above articles being presented as an offering to the brass pot, the\nfemales receive a portion of the eatables and return home sounding the\nconch, which is a necessary accompaniment of all religious ceremonies.\n\nWhat I am now about to describe may be called the _first_ marriage,\nbecause it is invariably followed by a second ceremonial when the union\nis really consummated. But it properly forms the binding ceremony, as\nconstituting the marriage relative between the two youthful parties,\nwith all its legal and social rights, even if they should not be spared\nto live together as husband and wife.\n\nThe emptiness and superficiality of the relation, especially on the side\nof the childish bride, will be but too apparent, and is but too often\nrealised in this uncertain life, in the prolonged misery of a virgin\nwidowhood. On the day of the marriage both the bridegroom and the bride\nare forbidden to eat anything except a little milk and a few fruits. The\nfather of the bride also fasts, as well as the officiating priests of\nthe two families.\n\nAbout twelve o'clock in the day, the Mowleek family sends presents of\nclothes, sweetmeats, fishes, sour and sweet milk and some money, say\nabout twenty-five rupees, to the house of the Koolin family, as a mark\nof honor to the latter, to which, from his superior caste he is fairly\nentitled. This present is called _Adhibassy_. Both the fathers are also\nrequired during the day to perform the ceremony of _Nannimook_ or\n_Bidhishrad_,--a ceremony, the meaning of which, as said before, is to\nmake offerings to the manes of ancestors, and to wish for the increase\nand preservation of progeny.\n\nAfter the performance of the above ceremonies, both the bridegroom and\nthe bride putting on new red bordered _dhooty_ and _saree_ respectively\nat their several houses, are made to bathe; and five women whose\nhusbands are alive touch their foreheads with sundry little things, as\nmentioned before. They have afterwards to go through a few minor rites\nwhich are purely the inventions of the females, not being at all\nenjoined in the _Shasters_. It is obvious that the primary object of all\nthese female rites is to promote conjugal felicity. Strange as it may\nappear, it is nevertheless a fact that the mother of the bridegroom eats\n_seven_ times (of course but little at a time) that day through a fear\nlest the bride, when she comes, will give her but scanty meals,[25]\nwhile the mother of the bride does not eat anything until the marriage\nceremony is over, being impressed with a notion that the more she fasts\nthe more she will get to eat afterwards.\n\nThe females on the side of the bride, with the help of a matron,\nexercise their utmost ingenuity, and literally rack their brains, in\ndevising all manner of contrivances partaking of the character of charms\nto win the devoted attachment of the bridegroom towards the lovely\nlittle bride. They resort to numerous petty tricks for the purpose which\nare too absurd and childish to be dwelt upon. Credulous as they\nnaturally are, and simple as they are known to be in their habits, not\nto speak of the normal weakness of their intellect, they fondly imagine\nthat their _thook thak_ or trick is sure to triumph and produce the\ndesired effect. To give an instance or two. They write down in red ink\non the back of the _Peray_, or wooden seat on which the bride is to sit,\nthe names of twenty-one uxorious husbands, and go round the bride seven\ntimes. They also write the name of the goddess, Doorga, on the silk\n_saree_ or garment which the bride is to wear at the time of the\nmarriage ceremony, because Shiva, her husband, was excessively fond of\nher. They place before her the _Chundi Pooty_, a sacred book treating of\nDoorga and Shiva, while her mouth is filled with two betel-nuts to be\nafterwards chewed with betel by the bridegroom unawares. Meantime active\npreparations are made on both sides for the auspicious solemnization of\nthe nuptials. At the house of the bridegroom, arrangements are being\nmade for illumination and fireworks, and the grand _Nacarras_ announce\nthe approaching departure of the procession. Fac-similes of mountains\nand peacocks are made of colored paper spacious enough to accommodate a\ndozen persons; hundreds of _Khas gaylap_ and silver staves are seen on\nthe roadside; groups of songsters and musicians are posted here and\nthere to give a passing specimen of the vulgar songs of the populace; a\n_Sookasun_ or bridegroom's seat elegantly fitted up is brought out with\ntwo boys gaily dressed to fan the bridegroom with _chamurs_;[26]\nhundreds of blue and red lights are distributed among the swarthy\ncoolies, who are to use them on the road when the procession moves. The\nbridegroom, being washed, is helped to put on a suit of superbly\nembroidered Benares _kinkob_ dress, with a pearl necklace of great\nvalue, besides bangles and armlets set in precious stones and garlands\nof flowers. Durwans and guards of honor are paraded in front of the\nhouse; and in short, nothing is left to impart an imposing appearance to\nthe scene. As has been already observed, there is a growing desire among\nthe Hindoos to imitate English manners and fashions. A marriage\nprocession is considered quite incomplete unless bands of English\nmusicians are retained, and a cavalcade of troopers like a burlesque of\nthe Governor-General's Body Guard is seen to move forward to clear the\nway. A Cook's carriage with a postillion is not unfrequently observed to\nsupersede the old _Sooksun_, or gilt Palkee.\n\nBefore the bridegroom leaves his house he says his prayer to the goddess\nDoorga, and makes his preparatory _jattra_ (departure). At this time his\nmother asks him, \"_Baba_ where are you going?\" He answers, \"To bring in\nyour _Dassee_ or maid-servant.\" Before leaving he receives from her a\nfew instructions as to how he should conduct himself at the house of his\nfather-in-law. He is to gaze on the stars in heaven, keep his feet half\non the ground and half on the wooden seat when engaged in performing a\nceremony, and not to use any other betel but his own. The object of\nthese instructions is to thwart the intention of his mother-in-law that\nhe may become a uxorious husband, a wish in which his mother does not\nshare at all, because it is calculated to diminish his regard for her.\nIn the majority of cases the wish of the mother-in-law prevails over\nthat of the mother, as is quite natural.\n\nHe has next to perform the rite of _Kanakangoolee_, surrounded by all\nthe women of the family. A small brass plate containing rice, a small\nwooden pot of vermilion, and one Rupee, are thrown right over his head\nby his father into the _Saree_, or robe of his mother, who stands behind\nhim for the purpose of receiving the same. This is a signal for him to\ncome out, and if all arrangements are complete, take his seat on the\nbridal _Sookasun_, or carriage. The procession moves forward amid the\nincreasing darkness. One or two European constables march ahead. The\nusual cortege of stalwart durwans follow. The torches and flambeaus are\nlighted. The _Khasgalabullahs_ are ranged on both sides of the road; in\nthe midst are placed bands of native and English musicians. Parties of\nsongsters in female dress begin to sing and dance on the _Moworpunkhee_,\nborne on the shoulders of coolies. The flaring torches are waved around\nthe procession. Blue and red lights are flashed at intervals. Noise,\nconfusion, and bustle ensue. Men, women and children all flock to see\nthe tamasha. Mischievous boys try to rob the lights. And to lend, as it\nwere, an enchantment to the scene, gay Baboos in open carriages, in\ntheir gala dresses bring up the rear. It is on such occasions that\nmodest beauties and newly-married brides (_bahus_) come out from the\nZenana, and, unveiling their faces, rise on the tops of their houses on\nboth sides of the road, in order to feast their eyes on all the pompous\naccompaniments of a marriage exhibition. As soon as the procession\narrives near the house of the bride, the people of the neighbourhood\nassemble in groups to have a sight of the lord of the day, and four or\nfive gentlemen of the party of the bride advance to welcome the\nbridegroom and his party of friends, who enter, receiving the stares of\nthe idle and the salutations of the polite. The barber of the family\nbrings out a light in a _sara_ (earthen vessel) and places it on the\nside of the road. Decency forbids me to mention certain of its\nconstituents.\n\nAs the initiatory rite of the auspicious event, the females blow the\nconch-shell in the inner apartment, and some more impatient than the\nrest peep through the latticed corridor or window, while the bridegroom\nis slowly conducted to his appropriate seat made up of red satin with\nembroidered fringes, having three pillows of the same stuff on three\nsides. An awning is suspended over the spacious compound, and it is\nsplendidly illuminated with gas lights. Polite and complimentary\nexpressions of good wishes and of refined native etiquette are exchanged\non both sides, comparing favorably with the rude manners of past times.\n\"Come in, come in, gentlemen, and sit down, please,\" is the general cry.\n\"Bring tobacco, bring tobacco, for both Brahmin's and Soodras,\" is the\nnext welcome expression. Boys, especially the brother-in-law of the\nbridegroom, now bring him a couple of betel-nuts, to be cut with the\npair of nut-crackers he holds in his hand. He objects and hesitates at\nfirst, but no excuse is admitted, no plea heard, he must cut them in\nthe best way he can.[27] When all the guests are properly seated,\nnumbers of school boys sit face to face and begin to wrangle, much to\nthe amusement of the assemblage. As English education is now all the\n\"go\" among the people, questions in spelling, grammar, geography and\nhistory, are put to each other. The following may be taken as a\nspecimen: Aushotosh asks Bholanauth, \"In what school do you read?\"\nBholanauth answers, \"In the Hare School.\" A. continues, \"What books do\nyou read?\" B. enumerates them.\n\nA. asks, \"What is your pedagogue's name?\" B., a little confounded,\nremains quiet, meditating within himself what could a _pedagogue_ mean.\nA. drawing nearer, asks him to spell the word, housewife? B. answers,\n\"h-u-z-z-i-f.\" A. laughs heartily in which he is joined by other boys.\nContinuing the chain of interrogations, he asks B. to parse the\nsentence: \"To be good is to be happy.\" B. hanging down his head,\nattempts, but fails. \"Where is Dundee, and what is it famous for?\" B.\nanswers, \"Dundee is in Germany.\" (laughter): A. pressing his adversary,\ncontinues, \"What was the cause of the Trojan war?\" B. answers\nhesitatingly, \"The golden fleece!\" Thus discomfited, B. takes refuge in\nignoble silence, while A., in a triumphant mood, moves prominently\nforward amidst the plaudits of the assembled multitude. \"Long live\nAushotosh,\" is the universal blessing.\n\nHere two or three professional genealogists, having tunics on their\nbodies and turbans on their heads, stand up, and in measured rhyme\nrecite the genealogical table of the two families now affianced,\nblazoning forth the meritorious deeds of each succeeding generation.\nThey keep a regular register of all the aristocratic Hindoo families,\nespecially of the Koolin class, and at respectable marriages they are\nrichly rewarded. It is quite amusing to hear how seriously they rehearse\nthe virtuous acts of the ancestors, carefully refraining from making any\nallusion to disreputable acts of any kind. Though not like Chunda, the\ninimitable bard and pole-star of Rajasthan, as Colonel Tod says, their\nservices are duly appreciated by all orthodox Hindoos, who exult in the\nglowing recital of ancestral deeds. Their language is so guarded and\nflattering that it can offend nobody, except such as do not reward them.\nHaving the genealogical table in their possession they can easily turn\nthe good into bad, and _vice versa_, to serve their own selfish ends. An\nupstart, or one who has a family stain, pays them liberally to have his\nname inserted in the genealogical register, and to be mentioned in\nlaudatory terms.\n\nIn the _Thakoor dhallan_, or chamber of worship, all preparations for\nthe solemnization of nuptials are now made. The couch-cot, beddings,\ncarpet, embroidered and wooden shoes--here English shoes will not\ndo--gold watch with chain, diamond ring, pearl necklace, and one set of\nsilver and one set of brass utensils,[28] are arranged in proper order,\nand flowers, sandal-paste, dooav grass, holy water in copper pans, and\nkhoosh grass, are placed before the priests of both parties. The\nbridegroom, laying aside his embroidered robe, is dressed in a red silk\ncloth, and taken to the place of worship, where the bride, also attired\nin a silk _Saree_, veiled and trembling through fear, is slowly brought\nfrom the female penetralia on a wooden seat borne by two servants and\nplaced on the left side of the bridegroom. The agitation of her internal\nfeelings when brought before the altar of Hymen is greatly soothed by\nthe wealth of gold ornaments--the _summum bonum_ of her existence with\nwhich her person is adorned. The officiating priest puts into the hands\nof the bridegroom fourteen blades of khoosh grass in two small bundles\nwhich he winds and ties round his figures. The priest then pours a\nlittle holy Ganges water into the bridegroom's right hand, which he\nholds while the father-in-law repeats a _mantra_ or incantation, at the\nclose of which he lets it fall. Rice, flowers and doorva grass are next\ngiven him, which he lays near the copper pan containing the holy water.\nWater is presented as at first with a prayer, and sour milk, then again\nwater. The officiating priest now directs him to put his hand into the\ncopper pan, and placing the hand of the bride on that of the bridegroom\nties them together with a garland of flowers, when the father-in-law\nsays: \"Of the family of Goutam, the great grand-daughter of Ram Churn\nBose, the grand-daughter of Bulloram Bose, the daughter of Ramsoonder\nBose, wearing such and such clothes and jewels, I, Dwarkeynath Bose,\ngive to thee, Oma Churn Dutt, of the family of Bharadaz, the great\ngrandson of Dinnonath Dutt, the grandson of Shib Churn Dutt, the son of\nJodonauth Dutt.\" The bridegroom says, \"I have received her.\" The\nfather-in-law then takes off the garland of flowers with which the hands\nof the married pair were bound, and pouring some holy water on their\nheads, pronounces his benediction. A piece of silk cloth called _Laja\nbustur_, is then put over the heads of the boy and girl, and they are\nasked to look at each other _for the first time in their lives_. While\nthe marriage ceremony is being performed the boy is made to wear on his\nhead a conical tinsel hat. Here the barber of the bridegroom gives to\nthe priest a little _Khoye_ (parched rice) and a little ghee, which are\noffered with doorva grass to the god Brahma. A very small piece of\ncoarse cloth called _gatchara_, or knotted cloth, containing in all\ntwenty-one myrobolans, _boyra_ fruit and betel-nuts, is tied to the\nsilk _dhobja_ or scarf of the bridegroom, which is fastened again to the\nsilk garment of the bride, thus symbolising a union never to be severed.\nThe married couple are then taken into the inner court where the females\nare waiting on the tiptoe of expectation, wreathed for a moment in the\nrapturous embraces of one another. As soon as the boy appears, or rather\nbefore his appearance, conch-shells are again blown, and he is made to\nstand on a stone placed under a small awning called _chadlahtalah_, a\ntemporary shed, surrounded on four sides by plantain trees. By way of\nmerriment, some females greet him with _hayeumllah_ mixed in treacle,\nsome pull his ears, notably his sisters-in-law, while matrons cry out\n\"_ulu, ulu, ulu_,\" sounds indicative of excessive joy. It would require\nthe masterly pen of a Sir Walter Scott to adequately delineate the\njoyous feelings of the females on such an auspicious occasion.\n\nThe bridegroom is made to wear on his ten fingers ten rings made of\ntwigs of creepers, and his hands are tied by a piece of thread as long\nas his body. Putting betwixt them a weaver's shuttle, the mother-in-law\nsays, \"I have bound thee by thread, bought thee with cowries, and put a\nshuttle betwixt thy hands, now bleat thou like a lamb,[29] Bapoo,\"--a\nterm of endearment. She also closes his mouth by touching his lips with\na padlock, and symbolically sewing the same with twenty-one pins, that\nhe may never scold the girl; touches his nose with a slender Bamboo pipe\nand breaks it afterwards, throws over his body treacle and rice, as well\nas the refuse of spices pounded on a grindstone, which has been kept\ncovered with a bag for eight days, are alive, by two females whose\nhusbands and finally touches his lips with honey and small images made\nof sugar, that he may ever treat his wife like a _sweet_ darling.\n\nAfterwards the mother-in-law with several other married women, adorned\nwith all their costly ornaments and dressed in their best attire, touch\nhis forehead with _Sree_, _Barandalla_ a winnowing fan, plantain, betel\nand betel-nuts; and here the silk scarf of the boy, of which mention has\nbeen made before, is again more closely fastened to the silk garment of\nthe girl, and kept with her for eight days, after which it is returned,\naccompanied by presents of sweetmeats, fishes and curdled milk. These\npuerile rites, purely the invention of females, are intended to act as\ncharms for securing the love and affection of the husband for his wife.\nThe wish is certainly a good one, but often the agencies employed fail\nto produce the desired effect! \"Charms strike the sight, but merit wins\nthe soul.\" Before the marriage ceremony is concluded, the boys of the\nneighbourhood make the usual demand of _Gramva[t.]i_ and _Barawari_ Poojah.\nAt first in a polite way they ask the father of the bridegroom for the\ngift. He offers twenty Rupees, but they insist on having one hundred\nRupees. After some altercation in which sometimes high words and\noffensive language are made use of,[30] the matter is eventually settled\non payment of thirty-two Rupees. This money is used in giving a feast to\nthe boys of the neighbourhood, reserving a portion for the _Barawari_\npoojah,--a mode of worship which will be more fully treated in another\nplace.\n\nAs an epilogue to the nuptial rite, the bridegroom continues to stand on\na stone, while two men setting the bride on a wooden seat, and lifting\nher higher than his head, makes three circumambulations, asking the\nfemales at the same time who is taller, the bridegroom or the bride? The\nstereotyped response is, \"the bride.\" This being done, the females\nthrowing a piece of cloth over the heads of both, desire them to glance\nat each other with all the fond endearments of a wedded pair. As is to\nbe expected, the coy girl, almost in a state of trepidation, casts but a\ntransient look, and veils her face instanter; but the boy, young as he\nis, feels inwardly happy to view the lovely face of his future wife.\nThis look is called _Shoovadristi_ or \"the auspicious sight\" which is\nheld in the light of a harbinger of future felicity.\n\nThe bridegroom returns to the _Thacoordhallan_ or place of worship and\nperforms the concluding part of the marriage ceremony, while the\nofficiating priest, repeating the usual incantation, presents the burnt\nofferings (_home_) to the gods, which is the finale of the religious\npart of the rite.[31] But before the bridegroom leaves the place of\nworship, the officiating priests of both sides must have their _dackina_\nor pecuniary reward. If the boy be of the Mowleek caste and the girl of\nthe Koolin caste, the former must give double what the latter gives, _i.\ne._, 16 Rupees and 8 Rupees. Here, as in every other instance, the\nsuperiority of caste asserts its peculiar privileges. The professional\ngenealogists, after concluding their recitation and singing their\nepithalamiums, also come in for their share of the reward, but they are\ngenerally told to wait till the next day, when in common with other\nGhatacks they receive their recompense. The bridegroom is then permitted\nto have a little breathing time, after having undergone the infliction\nof so many religious and domestic rites, which latter formed the special\nprovince of the females.\n\nThe head of the family now stands up before the assembly, and asks their\npermission to go through the ceremony of _Mala Chandan_, or the\ndistribution of sandaled garlands. This is done to pay them the honor\ndue to their rank. The _Dullaputty_, or the head of the order or party,\nalmost invariably receives the first garland, and then the assembled\nmultitudes are served. For securing this hereditary distinction to a\nfamily, large sums of money have been spent from time to time by\nmillionaires who, by the favorable combination of circumstances, had\nrisen from an obscure position in life to a state of great affluence.\nThe late Rajah Rajkissen Bahadoor, Baboos Ram Doolal Dey, Kisto Ram\nBose, Modun Mohun Dutt, Santi Ram Singh, Ram Rutton Roy and others,\nexpended upwards of a lakh of Rupees, or L10,000, each for the\npossession of the enviable title of _Dullaputty_, or head of a party.\nThe way by which this noble distinction was secured was to induce\nfirst-class Koolins, by sufficient pecuniary inducements, to intermarry\ninto the families of the would-be _Dullaputty_. The generally\nimpoverished condition of the old aristocracy of the land, and the\nonward march of intellect teaching the people to look to sterling merit\nfor superiority in the scale of Society have considerably deteriorated\nthe value of these artificial distinctions. The progress of education\nhas opened a new era in the social institutions of the country, and an\nenlightened proletariat is now-a-days more esteemed than an empty\ntitled _Dullaputty_, the magnitude of whose social status is not to be\nestimated by the numbers of Koolins he is connected with, but by the\nextent and character of his services to society.\n\nThe bridegroom next dines with his friends outside, notwithstanding the\nimportunities of the females for him to dine in their presence in the\ninner apartment, that they might have an opportunity to indulge in\nmerriment at his expense. As a rule, the Brahmins dine first, and then\nthe numerous guests and attendants, numbering sometimes one thousand.\nDespite the precaution of the friends of the bride to prevent unwelcome\nintrusion, from a natural apprehension of running short of supplies,\nwhich, on such occasions, are procured at enormous cost, many uninvited\npersons in the disguise of respectable looking Baboos contrive somehow\nor other to mingle in the crowd and behave with such propriety as to\nelude detection. The proportion of male intruders is larger than that of\nfemale ones, simply because the latter, however barefaced, cannot\nentirely divest themselves of all modesty. It would not be above the\nmark to put down the number of the former at twenty per cent. Such men\nare professional intruders; they are entirely devoid of a sense of self\nrespect, and lead a wretched, demoralized life. Foreigners can have no\nidea of the extent to which they carry on their disreputable trade,\nincluding in their ranks some of the highest Brahmins of the country. It\nis not an uncommon sight, on such occasion, to behold numbers of people\ndepart after dinner with bundles of _loochees_ (fine edibles) and\nsweetmeats in their hands, which _methranees_[32] threaten to touch and\ndefile.\n\nWhen full justice has been done to the feast provided for the occasion,\nthe crowd melts away and streams out at the door, well pleased with the\nreception they have had. It is much easier to satisfy men than women in\nthis respect. The latter are naturally fastidious, and the least\nshortcoming is sure to be found fault with. When confusion and bustle\nsubside, the bridegroom is slowly conducted into a room in the inner\napartment which bears the euphonious name of _Basurghur_, the\nbed-chamber of the happy pair, or rather the store-house of jokes and\nbanter, where are grouped together his wife, his mother-in-law,[33] and\nthe whole galaxy of beauty. The very name of _Basarghur_[34] suggests to\nthe female a variety of ideas at once amusing and fascinating. As I have\nalready observed, she, nursed from her cradle in a state of perfect\nseclusion, and immersed in all the drudgeries of a monotonous domestic\nlife, is glad of any opportunity to share in the unreined pleasure of\njoviality. The mother-in-law, throwing aside conventional restraint,\nintroduces herself, or is introduced by other women, to her son-in-law.\nThey pull the poor lad's ears, in spite of her earnest protestation, and\nif they do not know what flirtation is, they assail him with jokes\nwhich quite puzzle him and bewilder his senses. They burst into roars of\nlaughter and make themselves merry at his expense; he feels himself\nalmost helpless and unprepared to make a suitable repartee, and is at\nlength driven into all manner of excuses, as plausible reasons for a\nbrief respite and a short repose. He complains of headache occasioned by\nthe lateness of the hour; as a sure remedy they give him soda, ice,\neau-de-cologne, and almost bathe him in rose-water; but a soporific they\ncan on no account allow him, because it would mar their pleasure and\nsink their lively spirits. Keeping up their jokes, they place the lovely\nbride with all her gold trappings on his knee, and unveiling her face\nask him to look at it, and say whether or not he likes her; she closes\nher eyes, moves and jerks to have the veil dropped down, but her sisters\nyield not to her wish, and keeping her yet unveiled, repeat the\nquestion. Of course he makes no reply, but blushes and hangs down his\nhead; their demand being imperative, he sees no other alternative, but\nto gently reply in the affirmative. They next make the girl bride, much\nagainst her inclination, lie down by his side; as often as she is\ndragged so often she draws back, but yielding at last to the admonition\nof her mother, she is constrained to lie down, because, on that night,\nthis form is strictly enjoined in the female shaster. The innocent girl,\nunconscious of the absurd mirth, shrinking together, turns away, and\noccasionally whimpering, passes the sleepless, miserable hours. The dawn\nof morning is to her most welcome, although it affords her but a\ntemporary relief. As the first glimpse of light is perceived, she flies\ninto the bosom of her aunt, who tries to animate her drooping spirit by\na word or two of solace, citing perhaps at the same time the example of\nSurrajiney, her elder sister, placed in a similar position three years\nago. The women referred to remain in the _Basarghur_. As a matter of\ncourse aged women go to sleep faster than young sprightly girls of\nsweet seventeen, who are bent on making the best of the occasion by\nindulging in jokes and witticisms. They literally rack their brains to\noutwit the bridegroom by their _thata_ and _tamasha_ (jokes), and their\nstock of it seems to be almost inexhaustible. They contrive to make him\nchew the same beera or betel which is _first_ chewed by the bride, and\nif he be obstinate enough to refuse it, in obedience to the warning of\nhis mother, which is often the case, four or five young ladies open out\nhis lips, and thrust the chewed betel into his mouth. What young man\nwould be so ungallant as to resist them after all? He must either submit\nor bear the opprobrium of a foolish discourteous boy. Thus the whole\nnight is passed in the banter and practical joking peculiar to the\nidiosyncracy of the Hindoo females. When in the morning he attempts to\nget away from their company, one or two ladies, notably his _salees_, or\nsisters-in-law hold him fast by the skirt of his silk garment demanding\nthe customary present of _Sarjaytollanee_.[35] He sends a message to his\nman outside, and gets thirty two or fifty Rupees, on payment of which\nthey are satisfied and permit him to go. After a short respite he is\nagain brought into the inner apartment, and after shaving, bathing and\nchanging his clothes, he is made to go almost through the same course of\nfemale rites as he had to perform on the preceding night, with this\ndifference only, that no officiating priest is required to help on the\noccasion. This rite is named _Bassi Bibaha_ (not new marriage), all the\nceremonials being conducted by the females. It would be tedious to\ninflict on the reader a recapitulation of the same, but suffice it to\nsay, that in all the primary pervading principle is plainly perceptible,\nnamely, the long life and conjugal felicity of the happy pair. It is a\nremarkable fact that in the opinion of the Hindoo females the wider the\ncircle of matrimonial ceremonies, the greater the chance of securing the\nfavor of Hymen. At the conclusion, the boy and girl are directed to say\nthat they have passed the state of celibacy and entered on that of\nmatrimony. \"Marriage is honorable in all and the bed undefiled.\"\n\nAs morning advances, the bridegroom walking, and the bride in the arms\nof her relative, are next brought into a room--the women blowing the\nconch and sprinkling water,--and made to sit near each other. They then\nplay with cowries, (shells) the girl is told to take up _a few_ cowries\nin her left hand and put them near the boy, while on the other hand the\nboy is told to take up as _much_ as his right hand can contain and put\nthem before the girl, the meaning of which is, that the girl would spend\nsparingly and the boy give her abundantly. They then play with four very\nsmall earthen pots, called _mooglivhur_, filled with rice and peas; the\ngirl first opens the lids of the pots and throws the contents on a\n_Koolo_, (winnowing fan) the boy takes it up and fills the pots, the\ngirl slowly puts the lids on and inaudibly repeats the name of her\nhusband for the first time,[36] expressing a hope that by the above\nprocess she stops his mouth and curbs his tongue, that he may never\nabuse her. As the first course of breakfast, fruits and sweetmeats are\nserved to the bridegroom and the bride. He eats a little and is\nrequested to offer a portion of the same to his wife, whose modesty\nforbids her to accept any in his presence, but the earnest importunities\nof the nearest of kin overcome her shyness, and she is at length\nprevailed upon to taste a little which is offered her by the hand of her\nhusband, the females expressing a desire at the same time that she may\ncontinue to eat from the same hand to the end of her days. They then\nreceive the benedictions of the male and female members of the family in\nmoney, dooav grass and paddy, which embody a prayer to the God for her\neverlasting happiness. A second course of breakfast consisting of boiled\nrice, dhall, fish and vegetable curries in great variety, sweetmeats,\nsour and sweet milk is next brought for the bridegroom; seeing that he\neats very slowly and scantily through shame, his sisters-in-law help him\nwith handfuls of rice and curries, &c. After he has finished eating, the\nresidue of the victuals is given to his wife in a separate room, because\nit is customary that she should use the same that day, with a view to\ncement mutual love and affection.\n\nPreparations are now being made for the return of the procession to the\nhouse of the bridegroom, but before it starts some pecuniary matters are\nto be settled. The father of the bridegroom gives fifty Rupees as\n_Sarjaytollanee_ for the benefit of the sisters of the bride, and the\nfather of the bride must give the same sum, if not a larger one, as\n_Nanadkhaymee_ for the benefit of the sisters of the bridegroom. Then\nthe difficult problem of _Samajeek_ is to be solved. In almost every\ncase, the question is not decided without some discussion. Hindoos are\nabove all tenacious of caste when the question is one of Rupees and\npice. Crowds of _Bhats_, _fakeers_, _nagas_, _raywos_, and mendicants\nshouting at times \"_Jay, Jay_,\" victory, victory; \"Bar, konay bachay\nthakoog,\" may the bridegroom and bride live long, impatiently wait in\nthe street for their usual alms. They get a few annas each and disperse.\nProfessional _Ghatucks_, genealogists and Brahmins also come in for\ntheir share and are not disappointed. Then comes the interesting and\naffecting part of the ceremonial, the _jattra_, or the approaching\ndeparture of the happy pair for the house of the bridegroom. A small\nbrass pot filled with holy water and a small wooden pot of vermillion\nbeing placed before them, they are made to sit on the two wooden\n_pirays_ on which they sat the previous evening at the time of marriage,\nand the females touch their foreheads with sour milk, _shiddi_ (hemp),\nand the consecrated _urghi_ of the goddess Doorga,[37] which latter is\nkept in a tuft on the _Khopa_ or ringlet of the bride's hair for eight\ndays. Her forehead is also rubbed with vermillion, the emblem of a\nfemale whose husband is alive. This is followed by the rite of\n_Kanokanjooley_ already described, but this time the father of the bride\nthrows the brass plate right over her head into the cloth of his wife,\nwho stands for the purpose behind her daughter. A sudden and solemn\npause is perceptible here, betokening the subsidence of joy and the\nadvent of sorrow. In the midst of the company, mostly females, the\nfather and mother of the bride, alternately clasping both the hands of\nthe bridegroom, with tears in their eyes, commit the very responsible\ntrust of the young wife to his charge, saying at the same time in a\nfaltering tone, among other things, that \"hitherto our daughter was\nplaced under our care, but now through the _Bhabiturbee_ or kind\ndispensation of Providence, she is consigned for ever to your charge,\nmay you kindly overlook her shortcomings and frailties and prove your\nfidelity by constancy.\" At this parting expression, tears start into the\neyes of all the females who are naturally more susceptible than the\nsterner sex. With sorrowful countenances and deep emotion they look\nsteadfastly at the married pair and imploringly beseech the bridegroom\nto treat the bride with all the tenderness of an affectionate husband.\nThe scene is exceedingly affecting, and the sweet sorrow of parting does\nnot permit him to say _Bidaya_ or farewell to the bridegroom. The\nmother-in-law, especially, should the bride be her only daughter, is\noverwhelmed with grief, and if she does not cry bitterly, her suppressed\nemotion is unmistakable; the idea even of a temporary separation is\nenough to break her heart, and no consolation can restore the natural\nserenity of her mind.[38] Her relatives endeavour to cheer her by\nreminding her of their and her own cases, and declare that all females\nare born to share the same fate. They scarcely enter the world before\nthey must leave their parents and intermarry into other families. This\nis their destiny, and this the law of _Juggut_ (the world), and they\nmust all abide by it. Instead of repining, she ought to pray to _Debta_\n(god,) \"that her daughter should ever continue to live at her\nfather-in-law's, use _Sidoor_ (vermillion) on her grey head, wear out\nher _iron bangle_, and be a _junma ayestri_,\" blessings which are all\nenjoyed by a female whose husband is alive. Such powerful arguments and\nundeniable examples partially restore the equanimity of her mind, and\nshe is half persuaded to join her friends and go and see the procession\nfrom the top of the house. The same tumult and bustle which ensued at\nthe time of coming now prevail at the departure of the bridegroom in\nhis _Sookasun_, and the bride in her closely covered crimson _Mohapaya_,\npreceded by all the _tinsel trappings_ and bands of English and Native\nmusicians. The procession slowly moves forward with all the pomp and\nconsequence of a grand, imposing exhibition, amidst the staring of the\nwondering populace and of the sight-seeing public. \"It is on such\noccasions,\" as Macaulay observes, \"that tender and delicate women, whose\nveils had never been lifted before the public gaze, came forth from the\ninner chambers in which Eastern jealousy keeps watch over their beauty.\"\nThe great body of _Barjattars_--bridegroom's friends--who graced the\nprocession with their presence the previous night, do not accompany it\nnow on its return homewards, and notwithstanding all the vigilance of\nthe extra guards, the mob scrambles and forcibly takes away the tinsel\nflower and fruit trees on the way. In an hour or two, all the objects of\nwonder vanish from the sight, and leave no mark behind them: \"the gaze\nof fools, the pageant of a day.\"\n\nOn the arrival of the procession at its destination, the bridegroom\nalights from the _Sookasun_ and the bride from the _Mohapaya_, under\nwhich, by way of welcome, is thrown a _ghara_, or pot of water. Hereupon\nthe silk _chadur_ or scarf of the bridegroom, so long in the possession\nof the bride, being entwined between both while the conch is blowing,\nthey are taken into the inner apartment, the former walking, the latter\nin the arms of one of her nearest female relatives whose husband is\nalive. The boy is made to stand on an _allpana piray_ (white-painted\nwooden seat), the girl on a thala or metal plate filled with milk and\naltawater, and holding in her hand a live _shole_ fish. A small earthen\npot of milk is put upon the fire by a female whose husband is alive, and\nwhen through heat it overflows, the veil of the girl being lifted, she\nis desired to witness the overflowing process and say gently three\ntimes, \"may the wealth and resources of her father-in-law overflow,\"\nwhile her mother-in-law puts round her left hand an iron bangle,[39] and\nwith the usual benediction that she may be ever blessed with her\nhusband, rubs the middle of her forehead with a little vermillion. A\nsmall basket of paddy or unhusked rice, over which stands a small pot of\nvermillion, is placed on the head of the bride, which the bridegroom\nholds with his left hand, and when they are both greeted three times\nwith the _Sree_, _Barandala Koolo_, water, plantain, betel and\nbetel-nuts, as has been described before, by the bridegroom's mother,\nhe, with his pair of nut-crackers in his right hand, throws over the\nground a few grains of paddy from the _reck_, walks slowly over a new\npiece of red bordered cloth into a room, accompanied by his wife and\npreceded by other females, one of whom blows a conch and another\nsprinkles water,--both tokens of an auspicious event.\n\nWhen all are properly seated upon bedding spread on the floor, the\nbridegroom and the bride play again the game of _jatook_ with cowries\n(shells)[40] as before. They afterwards receive the usual _asseerbad_\n(blessing) in paddy, doov-grass and money. The mother-in-law in order to\nensure the permanent submissiveness of the bride puts honey into her\nears and sugar into her mouth that she may receive her commands and\nexecute them like a sweet obedient girl. Some females then, placing a\nmale child on the thigh of the bridegroom, desire him to hand it to the\nbride. According to prescribed custom, the mother-in-law, on first\nseeing the face of her daughter-in-law, presents her with a pair of gold\nbangles. Other near female relatives, following her example, present her\nseverally with a pair of gold armlets, a pearl necklace, a set of gold\n_pitjhapa_, or an ornament for the back, jingling as the girl moves, a\npair of diamond cut gold ear-rings set in precious stones, and so on. To\naccount for the common desire of the Hindoos to give a profusion of\njewels to their females, Menu, their great fountain of authority,\nenjoins \"let women be constantly supplied with ornaments at festivals\nand jubilees, for if the wife be not elegantly attired, she will not\nexhilarate her husband. A wife gaily adorned, the whole house is\nembellished.\"\n\nShe is next taken into the kitchen, where all sorts of cooked victuals,\nexcept meat, are prepared in great abundance. She is desired to look at\nthem and pray to God that her father-in-law may always enjoy plenty.\nReturning from the cookroom, the bridegroom gives into her hands an\nembroidered Benares _saree_ as also a brass _thala_, (plate) with a few\n_batees_ (cups) containing boiled rice, _dhall_, and all the prepared\ncurries, vegetables, and fish, frumenty, &c., and addresses her,\ndeclaring that from this day forward he undertakes to support her with\nfood and clothes. He then partakes of the dinner and retires, while the\nbride is made to share the residue.[41] She is thus taught, from the\nmoment of her union at the Hymeneal altar, her fundamental duty of\nabsolute submission to, and utter dependence on, her husband. Should she\nbe of dark complexion and her features not beautiful, the bridegroom is\nthus twitted by his elder brothers' wives: \"you all along disliked a\n_kalo_ (black) girl, now what will you do, _thacoorpo_? Surely you\ncannot forsake her, we will see by-and-bye you shall have to wash her\nfeet.\" Words like these pierce the heart of the bridegroom, but\npoliteness forbids him to reply. As regards the power of woman, the same\nlawgiver says--\"a female is able to draw from the right path in this\nlife, not a fool only, but even a sage, and can lead him in subjection\nto desire or to wrath.\"\n\nThe nearest relatives and friends of the family are invited to partake\nof the _Bowbhat_ or bridal dinner consisting of boiled rice, dhall, fish\nand vegetable curries, frumenty, _polowya_, &c., served to the guests by\nthe bride's own hands, which is tantamount to her recognition as one of\nthe members of the family. To eat _unna_ (boiled rice) is one thing and\nto eat _jalpan_ (loochees and sweetmeats) is quite another. A Hindoo can\ntake the latter at the house of one of inferior caste, but he would lose\nhis caste if he were to eat the former at the same place. Even among\nequals of the same caste, and much more among inferiors, boiled rice is\nnot taken without mature consideration, and some sort of compensation\nfrom the inferior to the superior for condescending to eat the same. The\ncompensation is made in money and clothes according to the rank of the\n_Koolins_. Before departing, the guests invited to the _Bowbhat_ at\nwhich they eat boiled _rice_ from the hands of the bride, give her one,\ntwo, or more Rupees each.\n\nThe day following is a very interesting day or rather night, being the\nnight of _Foolsajya_[42] or flowery bed. At about eight o'clock in the\nevening the father of the bride sends to his son-in-law ample presents\nof all sorts of fruits in or out of season, home and bazar made\nsweetmeats, some in the shape of men, women, fishes, birds, carriages,\nhorses, elephants, &c., &c., each weighing from 6 to 10 lbs., sweet and\nsour milk (_batasa_,) a kind of sweet cakes, _chineere moorkey_, paddy,\nfried and sugared comfits, spices of all sorts, betel and prepared\nbetel-nuts, sets of ornaments and toys made of cutch, representing\nrailway carriages, gardens, house, dancing girls, &c., imitation pearl\nnecklaces made of rice, imitation gold necklace made of paddy, colored\nimitation fruits made of curd[43], butter, sugar, sugar-candy, _chana_\n(coagulated milk), otto of rose, rose-water, chaplets of flowers and\nflower ornaments, in great variety, Dacca and embroidered Benares\n_dhooty_ and _saree_ for the boy and the girl, clothes for all the\nelderly females, couch-cot, beddings, sets of silver and brass utensils,\ncarpet, embroidered shoes, gold watch and chain, &c., &c. Between 125\nand 150 servants, male and female, carry these articles, some in banghy,\nsome in baskets, and some in large brass _thalas_ or trays. These\npresents being properly arranged in the _Thacoor-dallan_ the male\nfriends of the family are invited to come down and see them, some\npraising the choice assortment and large variety, as well as the taste\nof the father of the bride, while others more calculating make an\nestimate as to the probable cost of the whole. These articles are then\nremoved into the inner apartment, where the females, naturally\nloquacious, criticise them according to their judgment; the simple and\nthe good-natured say they are good and satisfactory, others more\nfastidious find fault with them. They are, however, soon silenced by the\nprudent remarks of the adult male members of the family. The servants\nare next fed and dismissed with presents of money, some receiving one\nRupee each being the servants of the bride's family, some half a Rupee\nbeing the servants of other families. They then take back all the brass\n_thalas_ and trays, leaving the baskets behind.\n\nHere we come to the climax of interest. The bridegroom and the bride,\nadorned with a wealth of flower wreaths, and dressed in red-bordered\nDacca clothes, with sandal paste on their foreheads, and sitting side by\nside in the presence of females whose husbands are alive, are desired to\neat even a small portion of the articles of food that have been\npresented, and what is the most interesting feature in the scene, is\nthat the former helps the latter and the latter helps the former, both\nthrowing aside for the first time the restraint which modesty naturally\nimposes on such an occasion. To be more explicit, the boy eats one half\nof a sweetmeat and gives the other half to the girl, and the girl in her\nturn is constrained to follow the same example, though with a blushing\ncountenance and a veiled face. Female modesty predominates in this\nisolated instance. If the boy give blushingly, the girl gives shyly and\ntremulously; in spite of her best efforts, she cannot consistently make\nup her mind to lift up her right hand and stretch it towards the mouth\nof her husband, but is after all helped to do so by a woman, whose\nhusband is alive. This process of eating[44] and mutual help, when three\ndays have scarcely passed over their heads, naturally gives rise to joy,\nmerriment and laughter among the females; and one amongst them exclaims;\n\"look, look, _Soudaminey_, how our new _Radha_ and _Krishna_ are sitting\nside by side and eating together; may they live long and sport thus.\"\nThe mother of the boy watches the progress of the interesting scene,\nand in transports of joy wishes for their continued felicity. The young\nand sprightly, who have once passed through the same process, and whose\nhearts are enlivened by the reminiscences of past occurrences, too\nrecent to be forgotten, tarry in the room to the last moment, till sleep\nweighing down the eyelids of the happy pair, the mother of the\nbridegroom gently calls them aside, and leaves them to rest undisturbed.\nIn accordance with the old established custom, their bed is strewn with\nflowers and their bodies perfumed with otto of rose. This is not enough\nfor the sprightly ladies, the complement of whose amusement and\nmerriment is not yet full. Even if the night be a chilly one, regardless\nof the effects of exposure, they must _aripato_, or jealously watch\nthrough the crevices of windows, whether or not the boy talks to the\ngirl, and if he do, what is the nature of the talk. Thus they pass the\nwhole night prying and laughing, chatting with each other on subjects\nsuited to their taste and mode of thought. When morning dawns, the boy\nopening the door goes outside, and the girl slowly walks to her\nmaid-servants, who accompanied her from her father's house. Her whole\ndesire is to get back to her mother and sisters; nothing can reconcile\nher to her new home; novelty has no charms for her except in her\npaternal domicile. She repeatedly asks her maid-servants as to when the\n_Palkee_ will come, and what is the time fixed for her _jattra_,\n(departure); the maid-servants, consoling her, induce her to wash her\nmouth and break her fast with a few sweetmeats. In obedience to the kind\ninstruction of her mother, she sits closely veiled and talks little, if\nat all, even to young girls of her tender age. She next takes her\n_vojan_, or dinner, and to while away time, little girls try to amuse\nher with toys or a game at cards; at length the time comes for the\ntoilet work, and the arrival of the covered _Mohapaya_ is announced. She\nagain takes a few sweetmeats, and making a _pronam_ (bow) to all her\nsuperiors, is helped into the Palkee by her mother-in-law, a female\nhaving previously washed her feet. The usual benediction on such an\noccasion is, \"may you continue to live under the roof of your\nfather-in-law in the enjoyment of conjugal bliss.\"\n\nOn the arrival of the Mahapaya at her father's house, almost all the\nfemales come out for a moment, taking care previously to have the suddur\ndoor bolted and the Palkee bearers removed. They cheerfully welcome the\nreturn of the girl home. Her mother, unveiling her face and taking her\nin her arms, thus affectionately addresses her, \"my _Bacha_, (child) my\n_sonarchand_ (golden moon) where have you been? Did not your heart mourn\nfor us?\" Our house looked _khakha_ (desolate) in your absence. \"What did\nthey (bridegroom's family) say about our _dayway thowya_ (presents)? Did\nthey express any _nindya_, (dissatisfaction)? How have the women behaved\ntowards you? How are your _sassooree_ and _sasoor_ (mother-in-law and\nfather-in-law,)?\" Thus interrogating, they all walk inside and, making\nthe girl change her silk clothes and sit near them, begin to examine and\ncriticise the ornaments given her by her father-in-law. \"Let us see the\npearl necklace _first_,\" says Bhoopada? \"The pearls are not smooth and\nround, what may be its value?\" _Geeri Balla_, taking her own pearl\nnecklace from off her neck, compares the one with the other. They\nunanimously pronounce the latter to be more costly than the former; be\nthat as it may, its value cannot be less than Rupees 500. They next take\nin hand the _pitjapa_, ornament for the back, looking at it for a few\nminutes they pass their opinion, saying it is heavier and better made\nthan that of _Geeri Balla_. The _Sita haur_, or _Jarawya_[45] (gold\nnecklace) afterwards attracts their attention, and they roughly estimate\nits price at Rupees 350. It is not a little surprising that though these\nwomen are never permitted to go beyond the precincts of the zenana, yet\ntheir valuation of ornaments, unless it be a _jarawya bijoutry_ of\nenormous cost, such as is worn on grand occasions by the wife of a \"_big\nswell_,\" often bears the nearest approximation to the intrinsic worth of\nan article. Thus almost every ornament, one after another, forms the\nsubject of their criticism. When their discussion is over, the girl is\ndesired to take the greater portion of her ornaments off her body--save\na pair of gold _balla_[46] on her hands and a necklace on her neck--and\nleave them to the care of her mother. She then mixes in the company of\nother little girls of her tender age, some married, some unmarried; who\ncuriously ask her all about her new friends, until their talk resumes\nits usual childish topics. She passes the day among them very\npleasantly, so much so that when her mother calls her to take her\nluncheon, she stays back and says only \"_jachee, jachee_,\" (coming,\ncoming,) her mind being so much absorbed in her juvenile sports.\n\nThe next day is again a day of trial for her, she has to go for\n_gharbasath_[47] to her father-in-law's house. On awaking, she remembers\nwhere she will have to go in course of the day; a sensation bordering on\nsulkiness almost unconsciously steals upon her, and as time passes it\nincreases in intensity. About four in the afternoon the arrival of the\n_Mahapaya_ is announced, her sister combs her hair and adorns her\nperson with all the ornaments she has lately received. Dressed in her\nbridal silk _saree_, her eyes seem charged with tears, and symptoms of\nreluctance are visible in every step; but go she must; no alternative is\nleft her. So her mother helps her into the _Mahapaya_ and orders a\ndurwan and two maid-servants to accompany her, not forgetting to assure\nher that she is to be brought back the next day. Despite this assurance,\nshe whimpers and weeps, and is consoled on the way by her maid-servants.\nAt her father-in-law's, young girls of her age being impatient to\nreceive her, are seen moving backwards and forwards to get a glimpse of\nthe _Mahapaya_, the arrival of which is a signal for almost all the\nladies to come out and greet the object of their affection. Her\nmother-in-law steps forward, and taking up the girl in her arms walks\ninside, followed by a train of other ladies, whose hearts are\nexhilarated again at the prospect of merriment at the expense of the\nmarried pair. When the time comes round for them to retire, the same\nscene of _arepata_ is re-enacted by the mirth-loving ladies, with all\ntheir \"quips and cranks and wanton wiles.\" At day-break, the girl, as\nmust naturally be expected, quietly walks to her confidential\nmaid-servant, and whispers her to go and tell her mother to send the\n_Mahapaya_ Palkee as early as possible. Bearing her message, one of them\ngoes for the purpose but the mother replies, How can she send the Palkee\nexcept at the lucky hour after dinner? When this reply is communicated\nto the girl, she sits sulkily aloof, until her mother-in-law cajoles her\nand offers for her breakfast a few sweetmeats with milk. After a great\ndeal of hesitation she complies with her request, which, to be\neffective, is always accompanied by a threat of not allowing her to\nreturn to her father's in the event of a refusal. About ten o'clock she\ntakes her regular breakfast as described before, but she does not eat\nwith zest, for whatever delicacy may be offered her, it palls upon her\ntaste; continually brooding on the idea of a return home. This is the\nday when the bridegroom and the bride untie from each other's hand the\nyellow home-spun _charka_ thread with which they were entwined on the\nday of marriage, as a mark of their indissoluble union. At length the\nlucky hour arrives, and with it the _Mahapaya_ comes. The very\nannouncement of the fact revives the drooping spirits of the bride.\nAfter going through the usual toilet work and a slight repast, she gets\ninto the covered conveyance, assisted by her mother-in-law and other\nladies. When she returns home, she changes her bridal silk garment and\nstrips herself of the greater portion of her ornaments. Now uncontrolled\nand unreserved, she breathes a free, genial, atmosphere; her mother and\nsisters welcome her with their heartfelt congratulations, and she moves\nabout with her wonted buoyancy of spirit. Throwing aside her sulkiness,\nshe commingles readily in conversation with all around her. She praises\nthe amiable qualities of her father-in-law and mother-in-law, and the\nvery kind treatment she has had while under their roof, but she keeps\nher reserve when even the slightest allusion is made to her husband,\nbecause this is to her young mind forbidden ground on which she cannot\nventure to tread without violating the sacred rules of conventionalism.\n\nAt the marriages of rich families, as will be understood from our\ndescription, vast sums of money are expended. The greatest expense is\nincurred in purchasing jewels and making presents of brass utensils,\nshawls, clothes, sweetmeats, &c., to Brahmins, Koolins, _Ghatacks_ and\nnumerous friends, relatives and acquaintances, besides illuminations,\nfireworks and all the pageantry of a pompous procession. In and about\nCalcutta, the Rajahs of Shobabazar, the Dey family, the Mullick family,\nthe Tagore family, the Dutt family, the Ghosal family, and others, are\nreported to have spent from fifty thousand rupees to two lakhs (L5,000\nto L20,000) and upwards in the marriages of their sons. Whilst writing\nthis I am told Maharajah Jotendro Mohun Tagore is said to have expended\nabout two lakhs of rupees in the marriage of his nephew. The most\ninteresting feature in the extraordinary munificence of the Moharajah\nis, as I have learnt, his princely contribution to the \"District\nCharitable Society,\"--an act of benevolence which has shewn, in a very\nconspicuous manner, not only his good sense, but his warm sympathy with\nthe cause of suffering humanity. It were to be wished that his noble\nexample would exercise some influence on other Hindoo millionaires. If a\ntithe of such marriage expenses were devoted to Public Charity, the poor\nand helpless would ceaselessly chant the names of such donors, and the\nreward would be something better than the transient admiration of the\nidle populace.\n\nFor one or two years after marriage, the girl generally remains under\nthe paternal roof, occasionally paying a visit to her father-in-law's as\nneed be. As she advances in years, her repugnance--the effect of early\nmarriage--to live with her husband is gradually overcome, till time and\ncircumstances completely reconcile her to her future home. Her affection\ngrows, and she learns to appreciate the grave meaning of a married life.\nShe is still, however, but a girl, in habit and ideas, when the real\nunion of wedded life or the second marriage takes place, which is\nsolemnised when she arrives at the age of puberty, say at her twelfth or\nthirteenth year. There is a popular belief, whether erroneous or not it\nis not for me to decide, that in this country heat accelerates growth,\nand hence the Hindoo Shasturs enjoin the necessity of early marriage,\nthe injurious consequences of which are chiefly seen in the weak\nconstitution of the offspring, and the premature decay of the mother.\n\nSo abominable are some of the ceremonies connected with this event in\nthe life of a female that to describe them fully would be an outrage on\ncommon decency.[48] I will, therefore, confine myself to a description\nof the ceremonies, entirely abstaining from an allusion to the\nabominations connected therewith. A general depravity of manners can\nonly account for the prevalence of this obnoxious institution, in the\neradication of which every Hindoo whose moral sense is not entirely\nblunted ought to co-operate. As the delay of the union is in the belief\nof a Hindoo an unpardonable sin, the fact referred to is announced by\nthe sound of a conch, and the bodies of all the females are smeared with\nturmeric water,--an unmistakable evidence of joy. The news is also\nconveyed to the nearest relatives by the family barber who receives\npresents of clothes and money. It is quite evident from the silence of\nthe Hindoo Shastur on the subject that the origin of the female rites is\ncomparatively recent. Irrespective of the religious observances, it\naffords an opportunity to the zenana females to indulge in obscene\ndepravities, the outcome of vitiated feeling.\n\nThe poor girl is placed on this occasion in the corner of a dark, dingy\nroom, with a small round pebble before her, shut out from the gaze of\nmen, and surrounded on four sides by four pieces of slender split\nbamboos about one yard long fastened by a piece of thread. This is\ncalled the _teerghur_ mentioned before. Being regarded as unclean, she\nremains in this room for four days without a bedding or a musquito\ncurtain, and no one touches her, not even her sisters. She is forbidden\nto see the sun, her diet is confined to boiled rice, milk, sugar, curd,\nand tamarind without salt. On the morning of the fifth day, she is taken\nto a neighbouring tank, accompanied by five women whose husbands are\nalive. Smeared with turmeric water, they all bathe and return home,\nthrowing away the mat and other things that were in the room. She then\nsits in another room, and a very low caste woman, in the presence of\nfive other respectable females (not widows), performs a series of what\nis vulgarly called _Nith Kith_,[49] purely female rites, which are\nexceedingly indecent and immoral, so much so that a woman who has any\nsense of shame feels quite disgusted. During the day, according to\nprevious invitations, numerous female guests assemble and partake of a\ngood dinner provided for the occasion. They are also entertained with\nsongs, dancing and music, all done by professional females. When the\nguests retire, they congratulate the girl with the usual benediction to\nthe effect,--\"may you be blessed with a male child.\"\n\nAfter a day or two the religious part of the ceremony is performed,\nwhich is free from obscenity. On this occasion, the officiating priest\nreading, and the bridegroom repeating the service after him, presents\nofferings of rice, sweetmeats, plantain, clothes, doov-grass, fruits and\nflowers to the following gods and goddesses, _viz._, _Shasthi_,\n_Marcando_, _Soorja_, _Soobhachini_, _Gannesh_, and the nine planets,\nmuch in the same way as when the nuptial rites were formally solemnized.\nAfter this the hands of the bridegroom and the bride are joined\ntogether, and the priest repeating certain formulas, the bridegroom then\ncauses a ring to slide between the bride's silk garment and her waist.\nTwenty-one small images (twenty male and one female) made of pounded\nrice are placed before the happy pair, and the priest feeds the bride\nwith sugar, clarified butter, milk, and the urine and dung of a calf to\nensure the purity of the offspring. They then partake of a good dinner,\nthe bride taking the residue of the bridegroom's meal. The twenty-one\nimages are put into the room of the pair as a token of happy offspring,\nand the proportion of the males to the females, shews the premium and\ndiscount at which they are respectively held. The bride now takes up her\npermanent residence in the house of her father-in-law and becomes one of\nhis family.\n\nFor one twelve month after the marriage, the parents of the bridegroom\nand the bride have to make exchanges of suitable presents to one another\nat all the grand festivals. At the _first tatto_ or present, besides\nclothes, heaps of fruits, sweetmeats, English toys and sundries, the\nfather of the youth gives one complete set of miniature silver and brass\nutensils to the girl, while in return the father of the girl sends such\npresents as a table, chair, writing desk, silver inkstand, gold and\nsilver pencil cases, stationery, perfumery, &c., in addition to an\nequally large quantity of choice eatables of all kinds too numerous to\nbe detailed. The most expensive presents are two, namely, the _sittory_\nor winter present and the Doorga Poojah present, the former requiring a\nCashmere shawl, _choga_ and sundry other articles of use, and the\nlatter, fine Dacca and silk clothes to the whole family, including men,\nwomen and children.\n\nIt is a lamentable fact that though a Hindoo bears a great love and\naffection to his wife while she lives, yet in the event of her death,\nthe effects of these amiable qualities are too soon effaced by the\nstrong influence of a new passion, and another union is very speedily\nformed. Even during the period of his mourning, which lasts one month,\nproposals for a second marriage are entertained, if not by the husband\nhimself, by his father or elder brother. When the remembrance of this\nheavy domestic bereavement is so very fresh in the memory, it is highly\nunbecoming and ungenerous to open or enter into a matrimonial\nnegotiation, and have it consummated immediately after the _asuchi_ or\nmourning is over. A wife is certainly not a beast of burden that is no\nsooner removed by death than it may be replaced by another. She is a\nbeing whose joy and sorrow, happiness and misery, should be identical\nwith her husband's, and he is a savage in the widest sense of the word\nwho does not cherish a sacred regard for her memory after her death. In\nregard to the whole conduct and relations of the married life, Hindoos\ncannot have the golden rule too strongly impressed: \"Let every one of\nyou in particular so love his wife, even as himself; and let the wife\nsee that she reverence her husband.\"\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[15] I may be permitted here to observe _en passant_ that a civilized\nnation in describing the beauty of a woman, is sometimes apt to adopt\nthe flowery language of Hafiz. At a Ministerial banquet sometime ago,\nthe Lord Mayor of London was reported to have said about the Princess of\nWales; \"she is perfection, she sparkles like a gem of fifty facets, she\nis light when she smiles and she is beauty whenever you see her.\"\n\n[16] Presents of sweetmeats, fruits, clothes, flowers and sundry other\narticles on a pretty grand scale from the bride to the bridegroom, which\nwill be described more in detail afterwards.\n\n[17] A Rajpoot prince was said to have given a lakh of Rupees to a bard\nin order to purchase his rhythmic plaudits in a respectable assemblage\nof his countrymen.\n\n[18] If we consult properly the pages of the history of this country\nfrom the earliest period, we shall find abundant proofs of the very\ngreat influence of women on Hindoo society in general. I cannot do\nbetter than give the following quotation from Tod's Annals of Rajasthan.\n\"What led to the wars of Rama? The rape of Sita. What rendered deadly\nthe feuds of the Yadus? The insult of Dropadi. What made prince Nala an\nexile from Nirwar? His love for Damayanti. What made Raja Bharti abandon\nthe throne of Avanti? The loss of Pingala. What subjected the Hindu to\nthe dominion of the Islamite? The rape of the princess of Canouj. In\nfine, the cause which overturned kingdoms, commuted the sceptre to the\npilgrim's staff and formed the ground-work of all their grand epics, is\nwoman.\"\n\n[19] Besides the marriage expenses, this man gave to his five\nsons-in-law fifty thousand Rupees each, as well as a house worth ten\nthousand Rupees more.\n\n[20] A thin stuff like paper with which Hindoo females redden their\nfeet. A widow is not allowed to use it. In the absence of shoes, which\nthey are forbidden to wear, this red color heightens the beauty of their\ntiny feet. It is applied once a week.\n\n[21] In the selection of a bridegroom, outward appearances are not\nalways to be trusted. The late Baboo Aushotosh Dey, a millionaire, had a\nvery beautiful grand-daughter to give in marriage. As was to be\nexpected, _Ghatacks_ and _Ghatkees_ had been rummaging the whole town\nand its suburbs for a suitable match, one who would possess all the\nrecommendations of a good education, a respectable family, and a fair,\nprepossessing appearance--qualities which are rarely combined in one.\nAmong others, the name of the late Honorable Baboo Dwarkey Nauth Mitter\n(afterwards a Judge of the Calcutta High Court,) was mentioned. He was\nthen a bachelor, and his reputation as a scholar spread far and wide.\nSomehow or other he was brought into the house of Baboo Aushotosh Dey\nfor the purpose of giving the ladies an opportunity of seeing him. His\nscholastic attainments were pronounced to be of very superior order, but\nnot being blessed with a prepossessing appearance, he was rejected.\n\n[22] In Hindoo marriages and other ceremonies of a similar nature _red_\ncolor is indispensably necessary for all kinds of wearing apparel, even\nthe invitation cards must be on _red_ paper. Red color is the sign of\njoy and gaiety as opposed to black, which is held to be ominous.\n\n[23] A collirium case which contains the black dye with which native\nfemales daub their own and their childrens' eyelids.\n\n[24] The Bengalis have become so much anglicised of late that they have\nnot hesitated to give an English name to their sweetmeats. When the late\nLord Canning was the Governor General of India, it was said his Baboo\nmade a present of some native sweetmeats to Lady Canning, who was kindly\npleased to accept it. Hence the sweetmeat is called \"Lady Canning,\" and\nto this day no grand feast among the Bengalis is considered as complete\nunless the \"Lady Canning\" sort is offered to the guests. The man that\nfirst made it is said to have gained much money by its sale. It is not\nthe savoury taste of the thing that makes it so popular, but the name of\nthe illustrious Lady. While treating the subject of Hindoo\nentertainment, it would not be out of place to make a few observations\non a branch of it, for the information of European readers. At all\npublic entertainments of the kind I am referring to, respectable Hindoos\nstrictly confine themselves to _vegetable curries_. Though those of the\n_Sakto_ denomination (the followers of Kali and Doorga) have no\nreligious scruples to use goat-meat (male) and onion in the shape of\ncurry among select friends at home, they dare not expose themselves by\noffering it to strangers. Hence, in large assemblies, they strictly\nconfine themselves to vegetable curries of different kinds. The\nprinciple is good, were it honestly observed; because meat, if not\nnecessarily, yet generally, is the concomitant of _drink_. _Privately_,\nhowever, both meat and drink are largely used. Respectable females are\nentirely free as yet from these carnal indulgences.\n\n[25] The cause of the fear is as follows: When Kartick (the god of\nbeauty and the son of the goddess Doorga) went out to marry, he had\nforgotten to take with him the usual pair of nut-crackers. When he\nremembered this on the way, he immediately returned home, and to his\ngreat surprise, saw his mother eating with her ten hands, she being a\nten handed goddess. On asking the reason, he was told that it was lest,\nwhen he should bring his wife, she would not give her the proper\nquantity of food. Under what strange hallucinations, even the gods and\ngoddesses of the Hindoos laboured!\n\n[26] The _chamurs_ are fans made of the tails of Thibet cows.\n\n[27] Every commonplace minutiae in the domestic economy of a Hindoo\nfamily is fraught with meaning: the nuts are kept all-day in the bride's\nmouth and are saturated with her saliva. When cut by the hand of the\nbridegroom they are supposed to possess a peculiar virtue. Somehow or\nother, the bridegroom must be made to use them with the betel, in spite\nof the warning of his mother, forbidding him to use them on any account.\nWhen used, his love for his wife is supposed to be intensified, which is\nprejudicial to the interests of his mother.\n\n[28] The articles consist of Silver Ghara, Gharoo, Batha, Thalla, Batti,\nGlass, Raykab, Dahur, Dipay and Pickdan.\n\n[29] I have known a young collegian of a rather humourous disposition\nbleat like a lamb at the time of marriage, to the great amusement of all\nthe females, except his mother-in-law, who, simple as she was, took the\nmatter in a serious light, and felt herself almost dejected on account\nof the great stupidity of her son-in-law (for she could not take it in\nany other sense), but her dejection gave place to joy when in the\n_Basurghur_--the sleeping room of the happy pair for the night--she\nheard him outwit all the females present. It is obvious that the meaning\nof this part of the female rite is to render the husband tame and docile\nas a lamb, especially in his treatment of his wife.\n\n[30] In former days when education was but very scantily cultivated,\nunpleasant quarrels were known to have arisen between the two parties\nfrom very trivial circumstances. The friends of the bridegroom, often\npluming themselves on their special prerogatives as members of the\nstrong party readily resented even the slightest insult offered them\nrather incautiously by the bridal party. These altercations sometimes\nterminated in blows, if not in lacerated limbs. Instead of waiting till\nthe conclusion of the ceremony, the whole of the bridegroom's party has\nbeen known to return home without dinner, to the great mortification of\nthe other party. There is a common saying among the Bengalees that \"he\nwho is the enemy of the house should go to a marriage party.\" It was a\ncommon sport with the friends of the bridegroom to cut with a pair of\nscissors the bedding at the house of the bride. But happily such\npractices are of rare occurrence now-a-days.\n\n[31] An English gentleman, who, to a versatile genius, combined an\nintelligent knowledge of, and a familiar acquaintance with, the manners\nand customs of the country, once advised a Native friend of his to go to\nEngland and other great countries on the continent with a number of\nHindoo females and exhibit there all the important social and domestic\nceremonials of this country in a place of public resort. The very\ncircumstance of Hindoo females performing those rites in the manner in\nwhich they are popularly celebrated here, would be sure to attract a\nvery large audience. The marriage ceremonies alone would form a regular\nnight of enchantment and amusement. The time will certainly come when\nthe realization of such an ingenious idea would no longer be held\nUtopian.\n\n[32] Sweeper-caste females.\n\n[33] According to the prescribed rules of the Hindoo society, a\nmother-in-law is not permitted to appear before her son-in-law; it is\nnot only considered indecorous, but is associated with something else\nthat is scandalous; hence she always keeps her distance from her\nson-in-law, but on this particular night, her presence in the room with\nother females is quite consistent with feminine propriety. In the case\nof a very young son-in-law, however, a departure from this rule is not\nreprehensible.\n\n[34] In the suburbs and rural districts of Bengal, females, more\nparticularly among the Brahmin class, are tacitly allowed to have so\nmuch liberty on this special occasion that they, putting under the\nbushel their instinctive modesty, entertain the bridegroom not only with\nepithalamiums but with other amorous songs, having reference to the\ndiversions of Krishna with his mistress, and the numerous milk-maids.\nUnder an erroneous impression of singing holy songs they unwittingly\ntrumpet the profligate character of their god. These songs are generally\nknown by the names of _sakhisungbad_ and _biraha_; the former as the\ndesignation implies, consist of news as conveyed by the principal\nmilk-maids regarding his mistress, to whom he oftentimes proved false,\nand the latter of disappointed love, which broadly exhibits the\nprominent features of his sensuous life. They feel such an interest in\nthese low entertainments, that under the hallowed name of religion they\nare led to indirectly perpetrate a crime. Frail as women naturally are,\nthe example of such a god, combined with the sanction of religion, has\nundoubtedly a tendency to impair the moral influence of a virtuous life.\nI have always regretted this from my personal observation, but to strike\na death blow at the root of the evil must be the work of ages. The\nessential elements of the Hindoo character must be thoroughly recast.\n\n[35] The fee for the trouble of removing the bed and keeping up the\nnight, the ladies who remained in the bed-chamber are justly entitled to\nit for their pains; a widow, be it observed, is not permitted to touch\nthe bed lest her misfortune would befall the bride, but she gets,\nhowever, her portion or share of the fee.\n\n[36] It should be mentioned that a female after her marriage is not\nallowed to utter the name of her husband or of any of his male and\nfemale relatives save those who are younger than she. There is no harm\ndone in taking the name of a husband, but through a sense of shame she\ndoes not repeat it.\n\n[37] The _Urghi_ consists of _dooav_ grass, rice and _alta_ (a thin red\nstuff made of cotton like paper with which Hindoo females daub their\nfeet,) previously consecrated to the goddess Doorga, and is supposed to\npossess a peculiar virtue in promoting felicity and relieving distress.\n\n[38] Hindoos are so passionately fond of their children, male or female,\nthat they can but ill brook the idea of a segregation, even under\ncircumstances where it is unavoidable. Hence wealthy families often keep\ntheir sons-in-law under their own roof. Sometimes this is done from\nvanity. Such sons-in-law generally become indolent and effeminate,\ndestitute alike of mental activity and physical energy. They eat, drink,\nsmoke, play and sleep. Fattening on the ample resources of their\nfather-in-law they contract demoralizing habits, which engender vice and\nprofligacy. The late Baboos Ramdoolal Dey, Ramruttun Roy, Prannauth\nChowdry, the Tagore families, the old Rajahs of Calcutta and some of the\nnewly fledged English made Rajahs and others, countenanced this\npractice, and the result is, they have left with but few exceptions a\nnumber of men singularly deficient in good moral character. These men\nare called _Ghar Jamayes_, or home bred sons-in-law, which is a term of\nreproach among all persons who have a spark of independence about them.\nThe late Baboo Dinno Bundho Mitter, the celebrated author of \"_Nil\nDurpun_,\" strongly satirises such characters in a book called \"_Jamay\nBareek_.\" While on this subject I may as well mention here that Baboo\nRamdoolal Dey of Calcutta, who had risen from obscurity to great\nopulence, had five daughters, to each of whom he gave a marriage dowry\nof Rupees 50,000 in Government securities, and 10,000 Rupees for a\nhouse. Of course all his sons-in-law were first class _Koolins_, and\nused to live under the roof of their father-in-law. Some of their sons\nand grandsons are now ranked amongst the Hindoo millionaires of this\ngreat City, while most of the members of the original stock have\ndwindled into insignificance, strikingly illustrating the instability of\nfortune.\n\n[39] The use of an iron bangle or bracelet has a deep meaning, it\noutlasts gold and silver ones. A girl may wear gold ornaments set in\nprecious stones to the value of ten or fifteen thousand Rupees, but an\n_iron_ bangle worth a pice,--a veritable insignia of _ayestreehood_\nopposed to widowhood--is indispensable to a married woman for its\ncomparatively durable quality. A young widow may wear gold bangles till\nher twentieth year, but she is not privileged to put on an iron bangle\nafter the death of her husband.\n\n[40] In the early part of the British Government in Bengal, _cowries_\nwere the common currency of the Province in the ordinary transactions of\nlife. People used to make their _hautbazar_ (market) with _cowries_, and\na family that made a daily bazar with sixteen or eighteen _kahuns_ of\ncowries, equal to one rupee or so, was reckoned a very respectable\nfamily. The prices of provisions ranged nearly one-third of what they\nnow are. Even the revenues of Government were sometimes paid in cowries\nin the Eastern districts, namely, Assam, Sylhet, &c.\n\n[41] There is a custom amongst the Hindoos that a married woman\nconsiders it no disgrace but rather an act of merit to eat the residue\nof her husband's meal in his absence; so great is the respect in which a\nhusband is held, and so warm the sympathy existing between them. Even an\nelderly woman, the mother of five or six children, cheerfully partakes\nof the residue, as if it were the orts of gods.\n\n[42] It is a noteworthy fact that in contracting matrimonial alliances,\nsome families placed in mediocre circumstances are satisfied with taking\na certain sum of money in lieu of the presents mentioned, partly because\nthe articles are mostly of a perishable nature, and partly because the\nmaking presents of money to numerous servants for their trouble and\nfeeding them, is regarded more as a tax than anything else. They prefer\nutility to show. Even in such cases of verbal contract, the father of\nthe bride must send at least thirty servants with presents, besides 100\nor 150 Rupees in cash as is stipulated before.\n\n[43] In making the above imitations, Hindoo females exhibit an\nastonishing degree of skill and ingenuity which, if directed by the hand\nof an expert, is capable of still further improvement. Naturally and\ninstinctively they evince a great aptitude for learning all sorts of\nhandiwork.\n\n[44] It is perhaps not generally known that the dinner of a native,\nHindoo or Mussulman, male or female, is not considered complete, until\nhe chews his _pan beera_ or betel. The bridegroom after eating and\nwashing his mouth chews his usual _pan_, and is asked to give a portion\nthereof to the bride; he hesitates at first, but consents at length to\ngive it into the right hand of his elder brother's wife, who forcibly\nthrusts the same into the mouth of the bride, observing at the same time\nthat their mutual repugnance on this score will soon be overcome when\ntheir incipient affection grows into true love.\n\n[45] _Jarawya_ jewellery is set in precious stones, the value of which\nit is not easy to estimate.\n\n[46] A Hindoo _Ayistree_ female, _i. e._, one whose husband is alive,\nwhether young or old, is religiously forbidden to take off _balla_\n(bangle) from her hands, if is a badge of _Ayistreeism_, even when dead\nred thread is substituted in the place of the _balla_, so great is the\nimportance attached to it by _Ayistree_ females. When the _balla_ is not\nseen on the hand, it is called the _raur hatha_, or the hand of a widow,\nthan which there could not be a more reproachful term.\n\n[47] _Gharbasath_ implies dwelling in a father-in-law's house. If the\nbride do not go there within eight days from the date of marriage, she\ncould not do so for one year, but after _gharbasath_ she can go and come\nback any time when necessary. The object is to impress on her mind that\nher father-in-law's house is her future home. It is on this occasion\nthat the worship of _Shoobachini_ already described is performed, and\nboth the bridegroom and bride are taken to _Kally Ghat_ to sanctify the\nhallowed union and obtain the blessings of the goddess.\n\n[48] It is perhaps not generally known that some women, not from any\nmalicious design but rather from the ennui of a monotonous life, as well\nas for the sake of amusement in which they might participate, make a\nsecret combination, and invent some artificial means to prematurely drag\nthe girl--the poor victim of superstition--into the _Teerghur_ before\nshe actually arrives at the age of puberty.\n\n[49] This part of the rite is called _Kada_ or mire. A small pool is dug\nin the court-yard and some water thrown into it;--two women, the one\npersonating a Rajah (King) and the other, a Ranee (Queen) feign to bathe\nin the pool, change their clothes, put on straw ornaments and dine on\nthe refuse of vegetables, while the songstress recites all sorts of\nobscene songs and the females hide their faces through shame. This loose\nand ludicrous representation proves nauseating even to those for whose\namusement it is performed. We cannot regard in any other light than as a\nrelic of unmitigated barbarism.\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\nTHE BROTHER FESTIVAL.\n\n\nAny social institution that has a tendency to promote the growth of\ngenuine love and affection between man and woman, is naturally conducive\nto the happiness of both. In this sublunary vale of tears, where\nunalloyed felicity is but transient and short lived, even a temporary\nexemption from the cares and anxieties of the world adds at least some\nmoments of pleasure to life. The _Bhratridvitiya,_ or _fraternal_ rite\nof the Hindoos, is an institution of this nature, being admirably\ncalculated to cement the natural bond of union between brothers and\nsisters of the same family. Bhratridvitiya, as the name imports, takes\nplace on the second day of the new moon immediately following the Kali\nPoojah or Dewali. On the morning of this day, a brother comes to the\nhouse of a sister, and receives from her hand the usual benedictive\npresent of unhusked rice, doova grass and sandal, with a wealth of good\nwishes for his long, prosperous life, and the happy commemoration of the\nevent from year to year. The brother in return reciprocates, and putting\na Rupee or two into her hands, expresses a similar good wish, with the\naddition that she may long continue to enjoy the blessings of a conjugal\nlife,--a benediction which she values over every other worldly\nadvantage. The main object of this festival is to renovate and intensify\nthe warmth of affection between kith and kin of both sexes by blessing\neach other on a particular day of the year. It is a sort of family\nreunion, pre-eminently calculated to recall the early reminiscences of\nlife, and to freshen up fraternal and sisterly love. No ritualistic rite\nor priestly interposition is necessary for the purpose, it being a\npurely social institution, originating in the love that sweetens life.\n\nAfter interchanging salutations, the sister who has every thing ready\nthrice invokes a blessing upon the brother in a Bengali verse, and marks\nhis forehead thrice with sandal paste by the tip of her little finger.\nShe then serves him with the provisions provided for the festive\noccasion. Here genuine love and true affection almost spontaneously gush\nforth from the heart of the sister towards one who is united to her by\nthe nearest tie of consanguinity and tenderest remembrances. If the\nbrother be not inclined to relish or taste a particular dish, how\naffectionately does she cajole him to try it, adding at the same time\nthat it has been prepared by her own hand with the greatest care. Any\nlittle dislike evinced by the brother instantly bathes her eyes in\ntears, and disposes her to exclaim somewhat in the following strain:\n\"Why is this slight towards a poor sister who has been up till twelve\no'clock last night to prepare for you the _chunderpooley_ and\n_Khirarchach_ (two sorts of home-made sweetmeats) regardless of the\ncries of _Khoka_ (the baby).\" Such a pathetic, tender expression bursting\nfrom the lips of a loving sister cannot fail to melt a brother's heart,\nand overcome his dislike.\n\nAbout four o'clock in the afternoon, the sister sends, as tangible\nmemorials of her affection, presents of clothes and sweetmeats to the\nhouse of the brother, fondly indulging in the hope that they may be\nacceptable to him. On this particular day, Hindoo homes as well as the\nstreets of Calcutta in the native part of the town, present the lively\nappearance of a national jubilee. Each of the brothers of the family\nvisits each of the sisters in turn. Hundreds of male and female servants\nare busily engaged in carrying presents, and return home quite\ndelighted. On such occasions the heart of a Hindoo female, naturally\nsoft and tender, becomes doubly expansive when the outflow of love and\naffection on her part is fully reciprocated by the effusion of good\nwishes on the part of her brother.\n\n\n\n\nVII.\n\nTHE SON-IN-LAW FESTIVAL.\n\n\nIf not precisely analogous in all its prominent features to the popular\nfestival described in the preceding Chapter, the following bears a\nstriking resemblance to it, in its adaptation to promote domestic\nhappiness. The festival familiarly known in Bengal by the name of\n\"_Jamai Shasthi_\" is an entertainment given in honor of a son-in-law, in\norder to bind him more closely to his wife's family.\n\nNothing better illustrates the manners and usages of a nation from a\nsocial and religious standpoint than the festivals and ceremonies which\nare observed by it. They form the essential parts of what DeQuincey\ncalls the equipage of life. As a nation, the Hindoos are proverbially\nfond of festivals, which are engrafted, as it were, on their peculiar\ndomestic and social economy. A designing priesthood had concocted an\nalmost endless round of superstitious rites with the view of acquiring\npower, and looking for permanent reverence to the credulity of the blind\ndevotees. Such foolish rites are eventually destined to fall into\ndesuetude, as popular enlightenment progresses, but those which are free\nfrom the taint of priestcraft by reason of their being interwoven into\nthe social amenities of life, are likely to prevail long after the\nsubversion of priestly ascendency. And _Jamai Shasthi_ is a festival of\nthis unobjectionable type. No superstitious element enters into its\nobservance.\n\nIt invariably takes place on the sixth day[50] of the increase of the\nmoon in the Bengali month of May, when ripe mangoes--the prince of\nIndian fruits--are in full season. Then all the mothers-in-law in Bengal\nare actually on the _qui vive_ to welcome their sons-in-law and turn a\nnew leaf in the chapter of their joys. A good son-in-law is emphatically\nthe most darling object of a Hindoo mother-in-law. She spares no\npossible pains to please and satisfy him, even calling to her aid the\nsupernatural agency of charms. Ostensibly and even practically a Hindoo\nmother-in-law loves her son-in-law more than her son, simply because the\nson can shift for himself even if turned adrift in the wide world, but\nthe daughter is absolutely helpless, and the cruel institution of\nperpetual widowhood, with its appalling amount of misery and risk,\nrenders her tenfold more so.\n\nOn this festive occasion, the son-in-law is invited to spend the day and\nnight at his father-in-law's house. No pains or expense is spared to\nentertain him. When he comes in the morning, the first thing he has to\ndo is to go into the female apartment, bow his head down in honor of his\nmother-in-law, and put on the floor a few Rupees, say five or ten,\nsometimes more if newly married. The food consists of all the delicacies\nof the season, and both the quantity and variety are often too great to\nbe done justice to. The perfection of Hindoo culinary art is\nunreservedly brought into requisition on such occasions. Surrounded by a\ngalaxy of beauty, the youthful son-in-law is restrained by a sense of\nshame from freely partaking of the feast specially provided for him. The\nearnest importunity of the females urges the bashful youth to eat more\nand more. If this be his first visit as son-in-law he finds himself\nquite bewildered in the midst of superfluity and superabundance of\npreparations. Many are the tricks employed to outwit him. With all his\nnatural shrewdness, and forewarned by the females of his own family, he\nis no match for either the playful humor and frolics of the young,\nsprightly ladies. Sham articles of food cleverly dressed in close\nimitation of fruits and sweetmeats are offered him without detection in\nthe full blaze of day, and the attempt to partake of them excites bursts\nof laughter and merriment. The utmost female ingenuity is here brought\ninto play to call forth amusement at the expense of the duped youth. In\ntheir own way, the good-natured females are mistresses of jokes and\njests, and nothing pleases them better than to find the youthful new\ncomer completely nonplused. This forms the favorite subject of their\ntalk long after the event. Shut up in the cage of a secluded zenana,\nquite beyond the influence of the outside world, it is no wonder that\ntheir minds and thoughts do not rise above the trifles of their own\nnarrow circle.\n\nAs in the case of the \"Brother\" festival, ample presents of clothes,\nfruits, and sweetmeats are sent to the house of the son-in-law, and\nevery lane and street of Calcutta is thronged with male and female\nservants trudging along with their loads in full hopes of getting their\nshare of eatables and a Rupee or a half Rupee each into the bargain.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[50] It appears to me rather anomalous, as far as Hindoo astrology is\nconcerned, that such a national jubilee is fixed to be celebrated on\nthis particular day, which is specially marked as an unlucky day for any\ngood work. The Hindoo almanac places _Shasthi_, the sixth day of the\nmoon, as _dugdha_ or destructive of any good thing in popular\nestimation. A Hindoo is religiously forbidden to commence any important\nwork or set out on a journey on this day. It portends evil. Respectable\nHindoo females who have children do not eat boiled rice on this\nparticular day for fear of becoming Rakhasses, or cannibals prone to\ndestroy their own offspring. The goddess Shasthi is the protectress of\nchildren. She is worshipped by all the women of Bengal six times in the\nyear, except such as are barren or ill-fated enough to become\nvirgin-widows.\n\n\n\n\nVIII.\n\nTHE DOORGA POOJAH FESTIVAL.\n\n\nBy far the most popular religious festival of the present day among the\nHindoos of Bengal, is the _Doorga Poojah_, which in the North-Western\nand Central Provinces is called the _Dusserah_ festival. It is believed\nthat the worship of the goddess Doorgah has been performed from time out\nof mind. The following is a description of the image of the goddess\nwhich is set up for worship: \"In one of her right hands is a spear, with\nwhich she is piercing the giant, Mohishasur; with one of the left, she\nholds the tail of a serpent and the hair of the giant, whose breast the\nserpent is biting. Her other hands are all stretched behind her head and\nfilled with different instruments of war. Against her right leg leans a\nlion, and against her left, the above giant. The images of Luckee,\nSaraswathi, Kartick and Gannesh are very frequently made and placed by\nthe side of the goddess.\" The majestic deportment of the goddess, with\nher three eyes and ten arms, the warlike attitude in which she is\nrepresented, her sanguinary character, which was the terror of all other\ngods, and the mighty exploits (far surpassing in feats of strength,\ncourage and heroism, those of the Greek Hercules,) all combine to give\nher an importance in the eyes of the people, which is seldom vouchsafed\nto any other deity. Even _Bramah_, _Vishnoo_ and _Shiva_ the Creator,\nPreserver and Destroyer of the world, were said to have propitiated her,\nand _Ram Chunder_, the deified hero, invoked her aid in his contest with\n_Ravana_, and as he worshipped her in the month of October, her Poojah\nhas, from that particular circumstance, been ever after appointed to\ntake place in that period of the year.[51] A short description of this\nfestival, the preliminary rites with which it is associated, and the\nnational excitement and hilarity which its periodical return produces\namong the people, will not be altogether uninteresting to European\nreaders.[52]\n\nTwenty-one days before the commencement of the Doorga Poojah festival, a\npreliminary rite, by way of purifying the body and soul by means of\nablution, is performed. The rite is called the \"_Aapar pakhaya tarpan_\"\nso called from its taking place on the first day of _Pratipad_ and\nending on the fifteenth day of _Amabashya_, an entire fortnight,\nimmediately preceding the _Debipakhya_ during which the Poojah is\ncelebrated. It generally falls between the fifteenth of September, and\nthe fifteenth of October. As already observed, this popular festival,\ncalled Doorga Poojah in Bengal and Dussera \"or the tenth\" in the\nNorth-West, although entirely military in its origin is universally\nrespected. It is commemorative of the day on which the god Ram Chunder\nfirst marched against his enemy, Ravana, in _Lanka_ or Ceylon for the\nrestoration of his wife, Seeta,[53] who was deservedly regarded as the\nbest model of devotion, resignation and love, as is so beautifully\npainted by the poet:\n\n  \"A woman's bliss is found, not in the smile\n  Of father, mother, friend, nor in herself:\n  Her husband is her only portion here,\n  Her heaven hereafter. If thou indeed\n  Depart this day into the forest drear,\n  I will precede, and smooth the thorny way.\"\n\nIn the mornings of _Apar pakhaya_, for fifteen days continually, those\nwho live near the sacred stream go thither with a small copper-pan and\nsome teel seeds, which they sprinkle on the water at short intervals,\nwhile repeating the formulae in a state of half immersion. To a foreigner\nquite unacquainted with the meaning of these rites, the scene is well\ncalculated to impress the mind with an idea of the exceeding devotedness\nof the Hindoos in observing their religious ordinances. The holy water\nand teel seeds which are sprinkled are intended as offerings to the\nmanes of ancestors for fourteen generations, that their souls may\ncontinue to enjoy repose to all eternity. The women, though some of them\nare in the habit of bathing in the holy stream every morning, are,\nhowever, precluded by their sex from taking a part in this ceremony.\nPrecisely on the last day of the fortnight, _i. e._, on the _Amabashya_,\nas if the object were attained, the rite of ablution ends, followed by\nanother of a more comprehensive character. On this particular day, which\nis called _Mohaloya_,[54] the living again pay their homage to the\nmemory of the fourteen generations of their ancestors by making them\nofferings of rice, fruits, sweetmeats, clothes, curded milk, and\nrepeating the incantations said by the priest, at the conclusion of\nwhich he takes away all the articles presented and receives his\n_dakshina_ of one Rupee for his trouble. Apart from their superstitious\ntendency, these anniversaries, are not without their beneficial effects.\nThey tend, in no small degree, to inspire the mind with a religious\nveneration for the memory of the departed worthies, and by the law of\nthe association of ideas not unfrequently bring to recollection their\ndistinctive features and individual characteristics.\n\nSome aristocratic families that have been observing this festival for a\nlong series of years, begin their _Kalpa_ or preliminary rite on the\nninth day of the decrease of the moon, when an earthen water pot called\n_ghat_[55] is placed in a room called _bodanghur_, duly consecrated by\nthe officiating priest, who, assisted by two other Brahmins, invokes the\nblessing of the deity by reading a Sanskrit work, called _Chundee_,\nwhich relates the numerous deeds and exploits of the goddess. It is a\nnoteworthy fact that the Brahmin, who repeats the name of the god,\n_Modosoodun_, seems, to all appearance, to be absorbed in mental\nabstraction. With closed eyes and moving fingers, not unlike the\n_Rishis_ of old, he, as it were, disdains to look at the external world.\nFrom early in the morning till 10 o'clock the worship before the earthen\npot is continued, and the officiating priests[56] are strictly\nprohibited from using _sidha_, (rice) taking more than one meal a day,\nor sleeping with their wives, as if that would be an act of unpardonable\nprofanation. This strict _regime_ is to be observed by them until the\nwhole of the ceremonial is completed, on the tenth day of the new moon.\nIt should be mentioned here that the majority of the Hindoos begin their\n_kalpa_, or preliminary rite, on _pratipad_, or the beginning of the new\nmoon, when almost every town and village resounds with the sound of\nconch, bell and gong, awakening latent religious emotions, and evoking\n_agamaney_, (songs or inaugural invocations) which deeply affect the\nhearts of Doorga's devout followers. Some of these rhythmic effusions\nare exceedingly pathetic. I wish I could give a specimen here of these\nsongs divested of their idolatrous tinge, but I am afraid of offending\nthe ears of my European readers.\n\nThe Brahmins[57] as a rule, commence their _kalpa_ on the sixth day or\none day only previous to the beginning of the grand poojah on the\nseventh day of the new moon. From the commencement of the initial rite,\nwhat thrilling sensations of delight are awakened in the bosom of the\nyoung boys and girls! Every morning and evening while the ceremony is\nbeing solemnized, they scramble with each other to get striking the gong\nand _Kasur_ which produces a harsh, deafening sound. Their excitement\nincreases in proportion to the nearer approach of the festival, and the\nimpression which they thus receive in their early days is not entirely\neffaced even after their minds are regenerated by the irresistible light\nof truth. The females, too, manifest mingled sensations of delight and\nreverence. If they are incapable of striking the gongs, they are\nsusceptible of deep devotional feelings which the solemnity of the\noccasion naturally inspires. The encircling of their neck with the end\nof their _saree_ or garment, expressive of humility, the solemn attitude\nin which they pose, their inaudible muttering of the name of the\ngoddess, and their prostrating themselves before the consecrated pot in\na spirit of perfect resignation, denote a state of mind full of\nreligious fervour, or, more properly speaking, of superstitious awe,\nwhich goes with them to their final resting place. On the night of the\nsixth day (Shashti) after the increase of the moon, another rite is\nperformed, which is termed _Uddhibassey_, its object being to welcome\nthe advent of the visible goddess with all necessary paraphernalia.\nAnother sacred earthen pot is placed in the outer temple of the goddess,\nand a young plantain tree, with a couple of wood apples intended for the\nbreast, is trimmed for the next morning's ablution. This plantain tree,\ncalled _kalabhoye_, is designed as a personification of Doorga in\nanother shape. It is dressed in a silk _saree_, its head is daubed with\nvermilion[58] and is placed by the side of Gannesh. Musicians with\ntheir ponderous _dhak_ and _dhole_ and _sannai_ (flutes) are retained\nfrom this day for five days at 12 or 16 Rupees for the occasion.[59]\nThat music imparts a solemnity to religious service is admitted by all,\nbut its harmony may be taken as an indication of the degree of\nexcellence and refinement to which a nation has attained in the scale of\ncivilization. What with the sonorous sound of _dhak_ and _dhole_,\n_sannai_, conch and gong, the effect cannot fail to be impressive to a\ndevout Hindoo mind. Except Brahmins, no one is allowed to touch the idol\nfrom this night, after the _bellbarun_, when it is supposed life and\nanimation is imparted into it. By the marvellous repetition of a few\nincantations a perfectly inanimate object stuffed only with clay and\nstraw, and painted, varnished and ornamented in all the tawdriness of\noriental fashion, is suddenly metamorphosed into a living divinity. Can\nreligious jugglery, and blind credulity go farther?\n\nIt will not be out of place to say a few words here about the\nembellishments of the images. As a refined taste is being cultivated, a\ngrowing desire is manifested to decorate the idols with splendid tinsel\nand gewgaws, which are admirably calculated to heighten the magnificence\nof the scene in popular estimation. Apart from the feast of colors\npresented to public view, the idols are adorned with tinsel ornaments,\nwhich, to an untutored mind, are in the highest degree captivating. Some\nfamilies that are placed in affluent circumstances, literally rack their\nbrains to discover new and more gaudy embellishments which, when\ncompared with those of their neighbours, might carry off the bubble\nreputation. It is, perhaps, not generally known that a certain class of\nmen--chiefly drawn from the lower strata of society--subsist on this\ntrade; they prepare a magnificent stock of tinsel wares for a twelve\nmonth, and supply the entire Hindoo community, from Calcutta to the\nremotest provinces and villages. Indeed so great is the rage for novelty\nand so strong the influence of vanity, that not content with costly home\nmade ornaments, some of the Baboos send their orders to England for new\npatterns, designs and devices, that they may be able to make an\nimpression on the popular mind; and as English taste is incomparably\nsuperior to native taste, both in the excellence and finish of\nworkmanship as well as in neatness and elegance, the images that shine\nin new fashioned English embellishments[60] are sure to challenge the\nadmiration of the populace. On the day of _Nirunjun_, or _Vhasan_ as it\nis vulgarly called, countless myriads of people throng the principal\nstreets of Calcutta, to catch a glimpse of the celebrated _pritimas_, or\nimages, and carry the information home to their absent friends in the\nvillages.\n\nBefore sunrise on _Saptami_, or the seventh day of the bright phase of\nthe moon, the officiating priest, accompanied by bands of musicians and\na few other members of the family, proceeds barefooted to the river side\nbearing on his shoulder the _kalabhoye_ or plantain tree described above\nwith an air of gravity as if he had charge of a treasure chest of great\nvalue. These processions are conducted with a degree of pomp\ncorresponding with the other extraneous splendours of the festival. In\nCalcutta, bands of English musicians, and numbers of staff holders with\nhigh flying colors, give an importance to the scene, which is not ill\nsuited to satisfy the vulgar taste. After performing some minor\nceremonies on the banks of the river, and bathing the plantain tree,\nthe procession returns home, escorting the officiating priest with his\nprecious charge in the same way in which he was conveyed to the Ghat. On\nreaching home, the priest, washing his feet, proceeds to rebathe the\nplantain tree, rubbing on its body all kinds of scented oils[61] as if\nto prepare it for a gay, convivial party. This part of the ceremony,\nwith appropriate incantations, being gone through, the plantain tree is\nplaced again by the side of the image of Gannesh, who being the eldest\nson of Doorga, must be worshipped _first_. Thus the right of precedence\nof rank is in full force even among the Hindoo gods and goddesses.\n\nPrevious to the commencement of the _Saptami_, or first Pooja, the\nofficiating priest again consecrates the goddess Doorga, somewhat in the\nfollowing manner: \"Oh, goddess, come and dwell in this image, and bless\nhim that worships you,\" naming the person, male or female, who is to\nreap the benefit of the meritorious act. Thus, the business of giving\nlife and eyes to the gods being finished, the priest, with two\nforefingers of his right hand, touches the forehead, cheeks, eyes,\nbreast and other parts of the image, repeating all the while the\nprescribed incantation: \"May the soul of Doorga long continue to dwell\nin this image.\" This part of the ceremony, which is accompanied with\nmusic, being performed, offerings are made to all the gods and\ngoddesses, as well as to the companions of Doorga in her wars, which are\npainted in variegated colors on the _chall_ or shed over the goddess in\nthe form of a crescent. The offerings consist principally of small\npieces of gold and silver, rice, fruits, sweetmeats, cloths, brass\nutensils and a few other things. These are arranged in large round\nwooden or brass plates, and a bit of flower or _bell_ leaf is cast upon\nthem to guard against their being desecrated by the demon Ravana, who is\nsupposed to take delight in insulting the gods and goddesses; the\nofficiating priest then consecrates them all by repeating a short mantra\nand sprinkling flowers and _bell_ leaves on them, particular regard\nbeing had to the worship of the whole host of deities according to their\nrespective position in the Hindoo pantheon. Even the most subordinate\nand insignificant gods or companions of Doorga must be propitiated by\nsmall bits of plantain and a few grains of rice, which are afterwards\ngiven to the idol makers and painters of the gods and goddesses. More\nvaluable offerings form the portion of the Brahmins, who look upon and\nclaim these as their birthright. In the evening, as in the morning, the\ngoddess is again worshipped, and while the service is being held the\nmusicians are called to play their musical instruments with a view to\nadd to the solemnity of the occasion. In the morning, some persons\nsacrifice goats and fruits, such as pumpkin, sugar-cane, &c., before the\ngoddess. In the present day, many respectable families have discontinued\nthe practice from a feeling of compassion towards the dumb animals,\nthough express injunctions are laid down in the Shasters in its favor.\nIt is a remarkable fact that the idea of sacrifice as a religious\ninstitution tending to effect the remission of sin was almost\nco-existent with the first dawn of human knowledge. The Reverend Dr. K.\nM. Banerjea thus writes: \"Of the inscrutable Will of the Almighty, that\nwithout shedding of blood there is no remission of sin, this, too,\nappears imbedded in ancient Ayrian tradition in the _sruti_ or hearings\nof our ancestors.\" Next to the Jews, this religious duty was\nscrupulously observed by the Brahmins. Names of priests, words for fire,\nfor those on whose behalf the sacrifices were performed, for the\nmaterials with which they were performed, abound in language\netymologically derived from words implying sacrifice. No literature\ncontains so many vocables relating to sacrificial ceremonies as\nSanskrit. Katyayana says, \"that heaven and all other happiness are the\nresults of sacrificial ceremonies. And it was a stereotyped idea with\nthe founders of Hindooism that animals were created for sacrifices. Nor\nwere these in olden days considered mere offerings of meat to certain\ncarnivorous deities, followed by the sacrificers themselves feasting on\nthe same, as the practice of the day represents the idea. The various\nnature of the sacrifices appears to have been substantially comprehended\nby the promoters of the institution in India. The sacrificer believed\nhimself to be redeemed by means of the sacrifice. The animal sacrificed\nwas itself called the sacrifice, because it was the ransom for the\nsoul.\" If we leave India and go back to the tradition and history of the\nother ancient nations, we shall find many instances, proving the\nexistence among them of the sacrificial rite for the remission of sin\nand the propitiation of the Deity. The hecatombs of Greece, and the\nmemorable dedication of the temple of Solomon when 20,000 oxen[62] and\n100,000 sheep were slain before the altar, are too well known to need\nany comment.\n\nIn these later ages, when degeneracy has made rapid strides amongst the\npeople of the country, the original intention of the founder of the\ninstitution being lost sight of, a perverted taste has given it an\nessentially sensual character. Instead of offering sacrifice from purely\nreligious motives, it is now made for the gratification of carnivorous\nappetite. The late King of Nuddea, Rajah Kristo Chunder Roy, though an\northodox Hindoo of the truest type, was said to have offered at one of\nthese festivals a very large number of goats and sheep to the goddess\nDoorga. \"He began,\" says Ward, \"with one, and, doubling the number each\nday, continued it for sixteen days. On the last day, he killed 33,168,\nand on the whole he slaughtered 65,535 animals. He loaded boats with the\nbodies and sent them to the neighbouring Brahmins, but they could not\ndevour them fast enough, and great numbers were thrown away. Let no one,\nafter this, tell us of the scruples of the Brahmins about destroying\nanimal life and eating animal food.\"\n\nAbout twelve o'clock in the day, when the morning service is over, the\nmale members of the family make their _poospaunjooley_ or offerings of\nflowers to the images, repeating an incantation recited by the priest,\nfor all kinds of worldly blessings, such as health, wealth, fame, long\nage, children, &c. The women come in afterwards for the same hallowed\npurpose, and inaudibly recite the incantation repeated by the priest\ninside the screen. The very sight of the images gladdens their hearts\nand quickens their throbs. Though fasting, they feel an extreme\nreluctance to leave the shrine and the divinities, declaring that their\nhunger and thirst are gone not from actual excess in eating and drinking\nbut from their fullness of heart at the presence of _Ma Doorga_. But go\nthey must to make way for the servants to remove the offerings,\ndistribute them among the Brahmins, and clean the temple for the evening\nservice, at the close of which Brahmins and other guests begin to come\nin and partake of the entertainment[63] provided for the occasion.\n\nOn the second day of the Poojah, offerings and sacrifices are made in\nthe same manner as on the first day, but this is considered a specially\nholy day, being the day, as is generally supposed, when the mighty\ngoddess is expected to come down from the mount Himalaya, and cast a\ntwinkling of her eye upon the divers offerings of her devotees in the\nterrestrial world. This day is called _Moha Ustamy_, being the eighth\nday of the increase of the moon, and is religiously observed throughout\nBengal. In Calcutta, this is the day when thousands and tens of\nthousands of Hindoos, who have had no Poojah in their houses, proceed to\nKalyghat in the suburbs, and do not break their fast before making\nsuitable offerings to the goddess Kali, who, according to Hindoo\nmythology, is but another incarnation of the goddess, Doorga. Except\nlittle children, almost all the members of a family, male and female,\ntogether with the priest, fast all day, and, if the combination of stars\nrequire it, almost the whole night. Elderly men of the orthodox type\ndevote the precious time to religious contemplation. Until the _Moha\nUstamy_, and its necessary adjunct _Shundya Poojah_, is finished, all\nare on the _qui vive_. It generally happens that this service is fixed\nby astrologers to take place before night's midmost stillest hour is\npast, when nature seems to repose in a state of perfect quiescence, and\nto call forth the religious fervour of the devotees. As the edge of\nhunger is sharpened, a Hindoo most anxiously looks at his watch or clock\nas to when the precious moment should arrive, and as the hour draws\nnear, men, women and children are all hushed into silence. Not a whisper\nnor a buzzing sound is to be heard. All is anxiety, suspense and\nexpectation, as if the arrival of the exact time would herald the advent\nof a true Saviour into the world. Amid perfect silence and stillness,\nall ears are stretched to catch the sound of the gun[64] which announces\nthe _precise minute_ when this most important of all Poojahs is to\nbegin. As soon as the announcement is made by the firing of a gun, the\npriest in all haste enters on the work of worship, and invokes the\nblessings of the goddess on himself and the family. When the time of\nsacrifice arrives, which is made known by the sound of another gun, all\nthe living souls in the house are bade to stand aloof, the priest with\ntrembling hands and in a state of trepidation consecrates the _Kharra_,\nor scimitar, with which the sacrifice is to be made, and placing the\n_Khaparer sara_ by the side of the _haureekat_, (the sacrificial log of\nwood) bids the blacksmith finish off his bloody job. Should the latter\ncut the head of a goat off at one stroke, all eyes are turned towards\nhim with joy. The priest, the master, and the inmates of the house, who\nare all this while under the influence of mental agitation, now begin to\ncongratulate each other on their good luck, praying for the return of\nthe goddess every year.\n\nNor must I omit to mention the other secondary rites which are performed\non the second day of the Poojah. Besides absolute fasting, the females\nof the household actually undergo a fiery ordeal. About one in the\nafternoon, when the tumult and bustle have subsided a little, all males\nbeing told to go away, the women unveiling their faces, and holding in\neach hand a _sara_ or earthen plate of rosin, squat down before the\nshrine of the goddess, and in the posture of quasi-penitent sinners,\nimplore in a fervent spirit the benediction of the goddess on behalf of\ntheir sons, while the rosin continues to burn in slow fire. As if dead\nto a sense of consciousness, they remain in that trying state for more\nthan half an hour, absorbed, as it were, in holy meditation, repeating\nin their minds, at the same time, the names of their guardian deities.\nTowards the close of this penitent service, a son is asked to sit on the\nlap of his mother. Barren women to whom Providence has denied this\ninestimable blessing must go without this domestic felicity resulting in\nreligious consolation, and not only mourn their present forlorn\ncondition, but pray for a happier one at next birth. A few puncture\ntheir breasts with a slender iron _naroon_ or nail cutter, and offer a\nfew drops of blood to the goddess, under a delusion that the severer the\npenance the greater the merit. Many women still go through this truly\nrevolting ordeal at Kali Ghat, in fulfilment of vows made in times of\nsickness.\n\nAnother ceremony which is performed by the females on this particular\nday is their worship of living Brahmin _Komarees_ (virgins) and matrons\n(_sodhavas_). After washing and wiping the feet of the objects of their\nworship, with folded hands, and, with the end of their _sari_ round\ntheir necks, in a reverential mood, they fall prostrate before the\nBrahmin women, and crave blessings, which, when graciously vouchsafed,\nare followed by offerings of sweetmeats, clothes and rupees. The purpose\nof this ceremony is to obtain exemption from the indescribable misery of\nwidowhood, and ensure the enjoyment of domestic happiness.\n\nOn the third or last day of the Poojah, being the ninth day of the\nincrease of the moon, the prescribed ritualistic ceremonies having been\nperformed, the officiating priests make the _hoam_ and _dhukinanto_, a\nrite, the meaning of which is to present farewell offerings to the\ngoddess for one year, adding in a suitable prayer that she will be\ngraciously pleased to forgive the present shortcomings on the part of\nher devotees, and vouchsafe to them her blessings in this world as well\nas in the world to come. This is a very critical time for the priests,\nbecause the finale of the ceremony involves the important question of\ntheir respective gains. Weak and selfish as human nature assuredly is,\neach of them (generally three in number) fights for his own individual\ninterest, justifying his claim on the score of the religious austerities\nhe has had to undergo, and the devotional fervour with which his sacred\nduties have been discharged. Until this knotty question is\nsatisfactorily solved, they forbear pronouncing the last _munter_ or\nprayer. It is necessary to add here that the presents of rupees which\nthe numerous guests offered to the goddess during the three days of the\nPoojah, go to swell the fund of the priest, to which the worshipper of\nthe idol must add a separate sum, without which this act of merit loses\nits final reward in a future state. The devotee must satisfy the\ncupidity of the priests or run the risk of forfeiting divine mercy. When\nthe problem is ultimately solved in favor of the officiating priest who\nactually makes the Poojah, and sums of money are put into the hands of\nthe Brahmins, the last prayer is read. It is not perhaps generally known\nthat the income the Indian ecclesiastics thus derive from this source\nsupports them for the greater part of the year, with a little gain in\nmoney or kind from the land they own.\n\nThe last day of the Poojah is attended with many offerings of goats,\nsheep, buffaloes[65] and fruits. The area before the shrine becomes a\nsort of slaughter house, slippery with gore and mire, and resounding\nwith the cries of the dying victims, and the still more vociferous\nshouts of \"_Ma, Ma,_\" uttered by the rabble amidst the discordant sound\nof gongs and drums. Some of the deluded devotees, losing all sense of\nshame and decency, smear their bodies from head to foot with this bloody\nmire, and begin to dance before the goddess and the assembled multitude\nlike wild furies. In this state of bestial fanaticism, utterly ignoring\nthe ordinary rules of public decorum, and literally intoxicated with the\nglory of the meritorious act, the deluded mob, preceded by musicians,\nproceed from one house to another in the neighbourhood where the image\nhas been set up, sing obscene songs, and otherwise make indecent\ngestures which are alike an outrage on public morals and common decency.\nWhen quite exhausted by these abominable orgies, they go and bathe in a\nriver or a tank, and return home, thinking how to make the most of the\nlast night. Should any sober-minded person remonstrate with them on\ntheir foolish conduct, the stereotyped reply is--\"this is _Mohamayer\nBazar_ and the last day of the Poojah, when all sorts of tomfoolery and\nrevelry are justifiable.\" The sensible portion of the community, it must\nbe mentioned, keep quite aloof from such immoral exhibitions.\n\nHowever great may have been the veneration or the depth of devotional\nfeeling in which the Doorga Poojah was held among the Hindoos of bygone\nages, it is certain that in the lapse of time this and all other\nnational festivals have lost their original religious character, and in\nthe majority of cases degenerated into profanities and impure orgies,\nwhich renew the periodical license for the unrestrained indulgence of\nsensuality, not to speak of the dissipation and debauchery which it\nusually brings in its train. Except a few patriarchal Hindoos, whose\nminds are deeply imbued with religious prepossessions as well as\ntraditional proclivities, the generality celebrate the Poojah for the\nsake of name and fame, no less than for the purposes of amusement, and\nfor the satisfaction of the women and children, who still retain, and\nwill continue to do so for a long time to come, a profound veneration\nfor the old _Doorga Uttsob_. Apart from the children, whose minds are\nsusceptible of any impression in their nascent state, the women are the\nmain prop of the idolatrous institutions and of the colossal\nsuperstructure of Hindoo superstition. If I am not much mistaken, it was\nto satisfy them that such distinguished Hindoo Reformers as the late\nBaboos Dwarkeynauth Tagore, Prosonocoomar Tagore, Romanauth Tagore, Ram\nGopal Ghose, Digumber Mitter and others celebrated this Poojah in their\nfamily dwelling houses. How far they were morally justified in\ncountenancing this popular festival, it is not for me to say. The fact\nspeaks for itself. Even in the present time, when Hindoo society is\nbeing profoundly convulsed by heterodox opinions, not a few of my\nenlightened countrymen observe this religious festival, and spend\nthousands of rupees on its celebration. There are, however, a few\nredeeming features in connection with this annual demonstration, which\nought to be prominently noticed. First and foremost, it affords an\nexcellent opportunity for the exercise of benevolent feelings;[66]\nsecondly, it materially contributes to the promotion of annual reunions,\nbrotherly fraternization, and to the general encouragement of trade\nthroughout Bengal.\n\nThe very great interest which Hindoo females feel in the periodical\nreturn of this grand festival, is known to every one who is at all\nconversant with the existing state of things in this country. In the\nnumerous districts and villages of Bengal inaugural preparations are\nmade for the celebration of this anniversary rite precisely from the day\non which the Juggernauth car is drawn in _Assar_, from the date of the\nfestival of Ruth Jattra, that is for about four months before the date\nof the Doorga Poojah. While the _koomar_, or the image maker, is engaged\nin making the Bamboo frame-work for the images, the women in the\nvillages devote their time to cleaning and storing the rice, paddy,\ndifferent kinds of pulse, cocoanuts, and other products of the farm, all\nwhich are required for the service of the goddess. Ten times a day they\nwill go to the temple to see what the Koomar is doing. Not capable of\nwriting, nor having any idea of 'Letts' Diaries,' they note down in\ntheir minds the daily progress of work, and feel an ineffable pleasure\nin communicating the glad tidings to each other. When day by day the\nstraw forms are converted into clay figures, and they are for the first\ntime plastered over with chalk and then painted with variegated colors,\nthe hearts of the females leap with joy, and again when the completed\nimages are being decorated with _dack_ ornaments or tinsel ware, their\nexhilaration knows no bounds. In the fulness of anxiety, the mistress of\nthe house directing her attention to what more is yet wanted for the due\ncompletion of the Poojah, rebukes the master for his apparent neglect\nsomewhat in the following manner: \"Where is the _dome sujah_,\n(basketware)? Where is the _koomar sujah_, (pottery)? Where are the\nspices and clothes? Where are the _sidoorchupry_ and sundry other things\nfor the _Barandalla?_\" Adding that there is no time to be lost, the\nPoojah is near at hand. The husband acquiescing in what the wife says\nassures her that everything shall be procured by Saturday or Sunday\nnext.\n\nOn the first day of the new moon, when every Hindoo in the city becomes\nmore or less busy on account of his official, domestic and religious\nengagements, the lady of the house is chiefly occupied with making\nsuitable arrangements for _tutwa_ or presents, first to her son-in-law\nand then to her other relatives, a subject on which I shall have to say\na few words in its proper place. On the eve of the sixth day of the new\nmoon, when the grand Poojah may be said to commence, the females,\nconsigning all their past sorrows to oblivion, feel a sort of\nelasticity, hopefulness and confidence which almost involuntarily draw\nforth from the depths of their hearts, feelings of joy and ecstacy. Even\na virgin widow, whose grief is yet fresh, forgets her miseries for\nawhile, and cheerfully mingles in the jubilee. She forms part and parcel\nof the domestic sisterhood, and for the five days of her life at least,\nher settled sadness gives way to pleasing sensations, and though\nforbidden by a cruel priesthood to lend her hand to the ceremonial, she\nnevertheless goes up to the goddess and prays in a devotional spirit for\na better future. Amidst such a scene of universal hilarity, supplemented\nby a confident hope of eternal beatitude, it is quite natural that\nHindoo females, socially divorced from every other innocent amusement,\nshould feel a deep, sincere and intense interest in such a national\nfestival which possesses the two fold advantages of a religious ceremony\nand a social demonstration. None but the most callous hearted can remain\nindifferent. Men, women and children, believers and unbelievers, are\nalike overcome by the force of this religious anniversary. The females\ngo to the temple at all hours of the day, and feast their eyes upon the\ncaptivating figure of mighty Doorga and her glorious satellites. Nor do\nthey stare at her with a vacant mind; each has her grievance to\nrepresent, her wish to express; prayer in a fervent spirit is offered to\nthe goddess for the redress of the one and the consummation of the\nother. Should a son die prematurely, should a husband suffer from any\ndifficulty, should a son-in-law be not true to his wife, should a\ndaughter be doomed to widowhood, the females wrestle hard in prayer for\nrelief and amelioration. On the fourth or Bijoya day, when the image is\nto be consigned to the river, one takes away a bit of the consecrated\n_urghy_[67]; a second, the _khappurer sara_, or the sacrificial earthen\nplate; a third, the crushed betel; a fourth, the sacred _billaw_ leaves,\nand so on; each forms a sacred trust, and all are preserved with the\ngreatest possible care, as the priceless heirloom of a benignant\ngoddess.\n\nHaving briefly described the main features of this religious festival, I\nwill now endeavour to give a short account of the other circumstances\nconnected with it. In the house of a Brahmin, _Khichree_, rice, dhall,\nfish and vegetable curries, together with sweetmeats and sour milk, are\ngiven to the guests, chiefly in the day time during the three Pooja\ndays. Many Hindoos, whose religious scruples will not allow them to kill\na goat themselves, generally go to the house of a Brahmin--but not\nwithout an eight anna piece or a Rupee--to satisfy their carnivorous\nappetite during the Poojah. It is very creditable to the women of the\nsacerdotal class that three or four of them undertake the duty of the\n_cuisine_, and feed from six to eight hundred persons for three days\nsuccessively. As fish is not acceptable to Doorga, neither cooked goat's\nand sheep's flesh, a separate kitchen is set apart for the purpose of\ncooking meat of sacrificed animals. Brahmin women, as a rule, cook\nremarkably well. Their long experience in the culinary art, their\nhabitual cleanliness, their undivided attention to their duty, and above\nall, the religious awe with which they prepare food for the goddess,\ngive quite a relish to every thing they make. Nor is this all. Their\ndevotion and earnestness is so great that they cannot be persuaded to\neat any thing until all the guests are fully satisfied, and what is\nstill more commendable, they look to no other reward for their trouble\nthan the fancied approbation of the goddess, and the satisfaction of the\nguests. It is not before nine o'clock at night that they become\ndisengaged, after which they bathe again, change clothes, say their\nprayers to the goddess, and then think of appeasing their hunger. Simple\nand unartificial as they naturally are, they, being mostly widows, are\nquite content with _habishi unno_, which was of yore the food of the\nHindoo _rishis_ or saints. It consists of _autob_ rice, or rice from\nunboiled paddy, green plantain and dhall, all boiled in the same pot. Of\ncourse a large quantity of ghee is added to it, and at the time of\neating milk is taken. These Brahmin women are, indeed, mistresses of the\nculinary art, if the bill of fare is not long, yet the dishes they make\nare generally very palatable. The truth is, they practically follow the\ntrite saying, \"what is worth doing at all, is worth doing well.\" Their\nsimple recipes always produce appetising and wholesome dishes, they are\nthrifty housewives. It must be admitted that simplicity is not meanness,\nnor thriftiness a fault.\n\nIn the house of a _Kayasta_ or _Sudra_, whose female members, it must be\nobserved, are generally more indolently inclined, and whose style of\nliving is consequently more luxurious, the food offered to the guests\nconsists chiefly of different kinds of sweetmeats, fruits, _loochees_,\nvegetable curries, &c. Four or five days before the Poojah begins,\nprofessional Brahmin sweetmeat-makers are employed to make the\nnecessary arrangements at home, the principal ingredients required\nbeing flour, _soojee_, _chattoo_, (gram fried and powdered) _safeyda_\n(pounded rice) sugar, spices, almonds, raisins, &c. Not a soul is\npermitted, not even the master of the house, to touch and much less\ntaste these articles[68] before they are religiously offered to the\ngoddess in the first instance and afterwards to the Brahmins. In these\n\"feast days\" of the Poojah in and about Calcutta, where nearly five\nhundred _pratimas_ or images are set up, every respectable Hindoo, as\nhas been observed before, is previously provided at home with an\nadequate supply of all the necessaries and luxuries of life that would\nlast about a month or so, it being considered unpropitious then to be\nwanting in any store, save fruit and fish. This accounts for a general\ndisinclination on the part of the well-to-do Baboos to partake of any\nordinary entertainment when visiting the goddess at a friend's house,\nbut to the Brahmins and the poverty-stricken classes this is a glorious\nopportunity for \"gorging.\" The despicable practice to which I have\nalluded elsewhere of carrying a portion of the _jalpan_ (food) home is\nlargely resorted to on this occasion. It is certainly a relic of\nbarbarism, which the growing good sense of the people ought to eschew.\n\nThe night of the ninth day of the increase of the moon is a grand night\nin Bengal. It is the _nabamee ratree_, and modesty is put to the blush\nby the revelry of the hour. The houses of the rich become as bright as\nthe day, costly chandeliers, hanging lamps and wall lights burning with\ngas, brilliantly illuminate the whole mansion, while the walls of the\n_Boytuckhana_ or sitting room are profusely adorned with English and\nFrench paintings and engravings, exhibiting certainly not the best\nspecimens of artistic skill, but singularly calculated to extort the\nplaudits of the illiterate, because engravings and pictures are the\nbooks of the unlearned, who are more easily impressed through the eye\nthan the ear. All the rooms and antechambers are frequently furnished in\nEuropean style. Splendid Brussels or Agra carpets are spread on the\nfloors of the rooms, a few of which, as if by way of contrast, have the\nordinary white cloth spread on them. Nor are hanging Punkhas wanting. In\none of the spacious halls sits the Baboo of the house, surrounded by\ncourtiers pandering to his vanity. Indolently reclining on a bolster,\nand leisurely smoking his _albollah_ with a long winding _nal_ or pipe,\nhalf dizzy from the effects of last night's revelry, he feels loath to\nspeak much. Like an opium eater, he falls into a siesta, whilst the\nPunkah is moving incessantly. If an orthodox Hindoo, freed from the\nbesetting vice of drinking, and awake to all that is going on around\nhim, before him are placed the Dacca silver filagree worked _atterdan_\nand _golappass_, as well as the _pandan_ with lots of spices and betel\nin it. On entering the room, the olfactory nerves of a visitor are sure\nto be regaled with fragrant odours. At intervals rose water is sprinkled\non the bodies of the guests, and weak spiced tobacco is served them\nevery fifteen minutes, the current topics of the day forming the subject\nof conversation. All this is surely vain ostentation and superfluity. So\nfar the arrangements and reception of friends are essentially\n_oriental_, the manner of sitting, the mode of conversation, and the way\nin which otto of roses, rose water and betel are given to guests are\nMahomedan and Hindoo-like, but there is something beyond this; here\northodoxy is virtually proscribed and heterodoxy practically proclaimed.\nWhile the officiating priests and the female devotees are offering their\nprayers to the presiding goddess, the Baboo, a liberal Hindoo, longs to\nretire to his _private_ room, perhaps on the third storey, at the\nentrance of which a guard is placed to keep off unwelcome visitors,\nthat he might partake of refreshments supplied by an English Purveying\nEstablishment with a few select friends. The room is furnished after\nEuropean fashion, chairs, tables, sofas, cheffoniers, cheval glass,\nsideboard, pictures, glass and silver and plated ware, knives, forks and\nspoons, and I know not what more, are all arranged in proper order, and\nfriends of congenial tastes have free access. First class wines and\nviands, such as Giesler's champagne, Heatly's Port and Sherry, Exshaw's\nBrandy No. I, Crabbie's Ginger wine, Bass's best bottled beer, soda\nwater, lemonade, ice, Huntley and Palmer's mixed biscuits, manilla\ncigars, cakes and fruits in heaps, _poloway_, _kurma_, _kupta_,\n_kallya_, roast fowl, cutlets, mutton chop and fowl curry,[69] are at\nyour service, and an English visitor is not an unwelcome guest.\n_Loochee_, _Sundesh mittoye_, _burfi_, _rasagullah_, _sittavog_, &c.,\nthe ordinary food of the Hindoos on festive days, are at a discount. The\nGreat Eastern Hotel Company should be thankful for the large orders\nwhich the Hindoo aristocracy of Calcutta and its suburbs favor them with\nduring this grand festival. The taste for the English style of living is\nnot a plant of recent growth. It has been germinating since the days of\nJohn Company, when India merchantmen enjoyed the monopoly of the foreign\ntrade of the country, when the highest authorities of the land had no\nreligious scruples as Christians to be present at a Hindoo festival,\nwhen, in fact, Hindoo millionaires were wont to indulge in lavish\nexpenditure[70] for the purpose of pleasing their new European masters.\nLeaving aside the dignity and gravity of the clerical profession for a\nwhile, the Reverend Mr. Ward was induced out of curiosity to pay a visit\nto the palatial mansion of the Shoba Bazar Rajahs of Calcutta on the\nlast night of the Poojah.\n\n\"In the year 1806,\" says he, \"I was present at the worship of this\ngoddess, as performed at the house of Rajah Rajkishnu at Calcutta. The\nbuildings where the festival was held were on four sides, leaving an\narea in the middle. The room to the east contained wine, English\nsweetmeats, &c., for the entertainment of English guests, with a native\nPortuguese or two to wait on the visitors. In the opposite room was\nplaced the image, with vast heaps of all kinds of offerings before it.\nIn the two side rooms, were the native guests, and in the area groups of\nHindoo dancing women, finely dressed, singing, and dancing with sleepy\nsteps, surrounded with Europeans who were sitting on chairs and couches.\nOne or two groups of Mussulman-men singers entertained the company at\nintervals with Hindoosthanee songs, and ludicrous tricks. Before two\no'clock the place was cleared of the dancing girls, and of all the\nEuropeans except ourselves, and almost all the lights were extinguished,\nexcept in front of the goddess,--when the doors of the area were thrown\nopen, and a vast crowd of natives rushed in, almost treading one upon\nanother, among whom were the vocal singers, having on long caps like\nsugar loaves. The area might be about fifty cubits long and thirty wide.\nWhen the crowd had sat down, they were so wedged together as to present\nthe appearance of a solid pavement of heads, a small space only being\nleft immediately before the image for the motions of the singers, who\nall stood up. Four sets of singers were present on this occasion, the\nfirst consisting of Brahmins, (_Huru Thacoor_), the next of bankers,\n(_Bhuvanundu_), the next of boeshnuvus, (_Nitaee_), and the last of\nweavers, (_Lukshmee_), who entertained their guests with filthy songs\nand danced in indecent attitudes before the goddess, holding up their\nhands, turning round, putting forward their heads towards the image,\nevery now and then bending their bodies, and almost tearing their\nthroats with their vociferations. The whole scene produced on my mind\nsensations of the greatest horror. The dress of the singers, their\nindecent gestures, the abominable nature of the songs, (especially\n_khayoor_) the horrid din of their miserable drum, the lateness of the\nhour, the darkness of the place, with the reflection that I was\nstanding in an idol temple, and that this immense multitude of rational\nand immortal creatures, capable of superior joys, were in the very act\nof worship, perpetrating a crime of high treason against the God of\nheaven, while they themselves believed they were performing an act of\nmerit, excited ideas and feelings in my mind which time can never\nobliterate. I would have given in this place a specimen of the songs\nsung before the image, but found them so full of broad obscenity that I\ncould not copy a single line. All those actions which a sense of decency\nkeeps out of the most indecent English songs, are here detailed, sung,\nand laughed at, without the least sense of shame. A poor ballad singer\nin England would be sent to the house of correction, and flogged, for\nperforming the _meritorious actions_ of these wretched idolaters.[71]\nThe singing is continued for three days from two o'clock in the morning\ntill nine.\"\n\nIt is a noteworthy fact that in those days when Bengal was in the zenith\nof its prosperity and splendour, the Governor-General, the members of\nthe Council, the judges of the Supreme Court, and distinguished officers\nand merchants, did not think it derogatory to their dignity, or at all\ncalculated to compromise their character as Christians, to honor the\nRajahs with their presence during this festival, but since the days of\nDaniel Wilson, the highly venerated Lord Bishop of Calcutta, who must\nhave expressed his strong disapprobation of this practice, these great\nmen have ceased to attend. At present but a few young officers, captains\nof ships in the port and East Indians may be seen to go to these\nnautches, and as a necessary consequence of this withdrawal of\ncountenance, the outward splendour of the festival has of late\nconsiderably diminished. Seeing the apparent approval of idolatrous\nceremonies by some Europeans, a conscientious Christian once exclaimed:\n\"I am not ashamed to confess that I fear more for the continuance of the\nBritish power in India, from the encouragement which Englishmen have\ngiven to the idolatry of the Hindoos, than from any other quarter\nwhatever.\"[72]\n\nAs regards the other amusements at this popular festival, a few words\nabout the Indian _nautch_ (dancing) girls may not be out of place here.\nThese women have no social status, their principles are as loose as\ntheir character is immoral. They are brought up to this disreputable\nprofession from their infancy. They have no husbands, and many of them\nare never married. The Native Princes, and chiefs, rich zemindars and\npersons in affluent circumstances, the capacity of whose intellect is as\nstinted as its culture is scanty, have been their great patrons. Devoid\nof a taste for reading and writing, they managed to drive the ennui of\ntheir lives by the songs of these dancing girls. Great were the rewards\nwhich they sometimes received at the hands of the Native kings in their\npalmy days. When a Principality groaned under extravagance and financial\nembarrassment, these bewitching girls were entertained at considerable\nexpense to drown the cares of state-craft and king-craft. Even the most\nastute prince was not free from this courtly profligacy. Though these\ngirls often basked in the sunshine of royal favor, yet there was not a\nsingle _Jenny Lind_ among them either in grace or accomplishment. As\nregards their income, a girl has been known to refuse ten thousand\nRupees for performing three nights at the Nazim's Court. When Rajah\nRajkissen of Sobha Bazar, the Singhee family of Jorasanko, and the Dey\nfamily of Simla, celebrated these Poojahs with great pomp, dancing girls\nof repute were retained a month previous to the festival at great cost,\nvarying from 500 to 1000 Rupees each for three nights. Now that those\nprosperous days are gone by, and the big English officials do not\ncondescend to attend the nautch, the amount has been reduced to fifty\nRupees or a little more. Their general attire and gestures, as well as\nthe nature and tendency of their songs, are by no means unexceptionable.\nThese auxiliaries to sensual gratification, combined with the\nallurements of Bacchus, even in the presence of a deity, are the least\nof all fitted to animate or quicken devotional feelings and prayerful\nthoughts.\n\nTheatrical performances from the popular dramas of the Indian poets, and\namateur _jattras_, pantomimical exhibitions, also contribute largely to\nthe amusement of the people. The old _Bidday Soonder_, _Maunvunjun_,\n_Dukha Juggo_, and others of a similar character are still relished by\npleasure-seekers and holiday-makers. It is, however, one of the healthy\nsigns of the times that native gentlemen of histrionic taste have\nrecently got up amateur performances, which bear a somewhat close\napproximation to the English tragedies and comedies.\n\nHaving previously described all the important circumstances and details,\nreligious and social, connected with this popular festival, I will now\ngive a short account of the Bhasan or _Nirunjun_ which takes place on\nthe tenth day of the new moon, or in the fourth day of the Poojah. It is\nalso called _Bijoya_, because the end of a ceremonial is always attended\nwith melancholy feelings. This is the day when the image is consigned to\nwater either of a river or tank. Apart from its religious significance,\nthe day is an important one to English and Native merchants alike.\nAlthough all the public offices, Government and mercantile, are\nabsolutely closed for twelve days, agents of Manchester and Glasgow\nfirms must open their places of business on this particular day, which\nto native merchants and dealers is an auspicious day when large bargains\nof Piece Goods for present and forward delivery are made. Ten to fifteen\nlakhs of Rupees worth of articles are sold this day in three or four\nhours, the general impression being that such bargains bring good luck\nboth to the buyer and the seller.\n\nAbout eight o'clock in the morning, the officiating priest begins the\nservice, and in half an hour it is over. Music, the indispensable\naccompaniment of Hindoo Poojahs, must attend every such service. A small\nlooking-glass is placed on a pan of Ganges water and every inmate of the\nfamily, male or female, is invited to see the shadow or rather the\nreflex of the goddess on its surface. Deeply imbued as the minds of the\nvotaries are with religious ideas, every individual looks on the mirror\nwith a sort of devotional feeling, and expresses his or her conviction\nas to the reality of the representation. The children, more from\namusement than faith, hang about the place, but the females steadfastly\ncling to the panoramic view, quite unwilling to leave it. Though totally\nignorant of the philosophical theory of the association or suggestion of\nideas, the scene naturally presents to their mind's eye the emotions\nthey feel when leaving the paternal roof for the father-in-law's house.\n\"_Ma Doorga_ is going to her father-in-law's and will not return for\nanother twelve month,\" exclaims one. \"Look at her eyes, her sorrowful\ncountenance,\" ejaculates another. \"The temple will look wild and\ndesolate when _Ma Doorga_ goes away,\" adds a third. To console them, the\nmistress of the house exhorts all to offer their prayers to the goddess,\nbeseeching that she may continue to vouchsafe her blessings from year to\nyear, and give prolonged life and happiness to all concerned. With this\nsolemn invocation, they, each and every one, fall down on their knees\nbefore the goddess, whose spirit had departed on the day previous, and\nin a contemplative mood implore her benediction. Before retiring,\nhowever, every one takes with her some precious relic of the offerings\n(flowers or _billaputtra_) made to Doorga when her spirit was present,\nand preserves it with all the care of a divine gift, using it\nreligiously in cases of sickness and calamity.\n\nAbout three in the afternoon, after washing their bodies and putting on\nnew clothes and ornaments, the females make preparations for performing\nthe last and farewell ceremony in honor of the goddess. The _sudder_\n(main) door is closed, musicians are ordered to go out in the streets,\nthe Doorga with all her satellites is brought out into the area of the\ntemple, the _barandallah_ with all its sundries is produced, and the\nfemales whose husbands are alive begin to turn round the images and\ntouch the forehead of each and every one of the deities with the\n_barandallah_, repeating their prayers for lasting blessings on the\nfamily. To the inexpressible grief of the widows, who are present on the\noccasion, a cruel institution has long since debarred them from\nassisting in this holy work. These ill-fated creatures are doomed only\nto stare at the images, but are not permitted to take an active part in\nthe ceremonial. Is it possible to conceive a more gloomy picture of\nsociety than that which absolutely expunges from a human breast all\ntraces of a religious privilege the exercise of which, though under a\nmistaken faith, tends to sweeten a wretched life? The miserable widows\nof India are unhappily destined to pine away their existence until\ngreater leaders of native reforms arise and deliver them from the\ngalling fetters of superstition.\n\nThe epilogue which closes the parting ceremony is called the\n_kanakanjally_, which consists in a woman (not a widow) taking a small\nbrass plate of paddy and _doova_ grass with a Rupee dyed in red lead in\nit, and throwing it from the fore part of the image right over its head\ninto the cloth of a man who stands behind for the purpose of receiving\nit. This last offering, it is needless to say, is preserved with the\ngreatest care. The female who performs the rite is an object of envy.\nThis rite being performed, the females take each a bit of the sweetmeat\nand betel which has been _last_ offered to _Ma Doorga_. A sudden\nreaction of feeling takes place, all hearts are grieved, and some\nactually shed tears. Two sensations, though not exactly analogous, arise\nin their minds; first the religious part of the festival, and the\nconsequent arousal of a devotional spirit, vividly reminding one of the\nunceasing round of ritualistic ceremonies as well as festivity and\ngaiety that the presence of the goddess naturally enough produced, and\nwhich are about to vanish and disappear in an hour by the immersion of\nthe goddess in the river or pond; and second, a worldly one, the\nrecurrence of the idea when a mother sends her daughter to the house of\nher father-in-law. In either case, the tender heart of a Hindoo female\neasily breaks down under the pressure of grief.\n\nThe goddess is afterwards brought out and placed on a Bamboo stage borne\non the shoulders of a set of coolies, all the flowers and _billaputtra_\noffered her during the past three days are also put in a basket and\ntaken to the riverside. The procession moves slowly forward, preceded by\nbands of English and Native musicians, and the necessary retinue of\nservants and guards, while from within the house, the women, not\nsatiated with the sight of the goddess for one long month, stretch their\neyes as far as their visual organs can extend to catch a last farewell\nglimpse of her. The streets of Calcutta, the English part of the town\nexcepted, become literally crammed and almost impassable on such a day.\nGroups of Police constables are posted here and there with a view to\nmaintain peace and order, the streets become a pavement of heads. At the\nlowest calculation, there cannot be less than 100,000 sight-seers\nabroad. Men, women and children of all classes and ranks come from a\ngreat distance to have a sight of the image. The tops of houses, the\nverandahs, the main roads, nay the unfrequented corners present a thick\nmass of living creatures, all anxious to feast their eyes upon the\nmatchless grandeur of the scene. A foreigner, unaccustomed to such a\nmagnificent spectacle, is apt to overrate the wealth and prosperity of\nthe people on such a day. The number of images, the dazzling and costly\nembellishments with which they are decorated, the rich livery of some of\nthe servants, the bands of musicians preceding the procession, the\nletting off of red and blue lights at intervals, the gala dress of the\nmultitude, and last but not least, the elegant carriages of the big\n\"swells,\" and the still more elegant attire of their owners, who loll\nback on the cushion of the carriages, diffusing fragrant odours as they\npass, cannot fail to produce an imposing effect. Here a gaily clad Baboo\nwith his patent Japan leather shoes; there a Hindoosthanee dandy with\nhis massive gold necklace and valuable pearls hanging down his ears;\nhere a proud Mogul in all the bravery of cloth of gold; there a frowning\nMussulman with his dazzling cap and gossamer _chapkan_ (tunic), and\nivory mounted stick, all combine to present a motley group of\ncharacters, national in their costumes, and unique in appearance. The\npoor country woman, her lord and children, though not favored by\nfortune, still cut a figure far above their normal condition.\n\nThose Hindoos, who adorn their images without stint of cost, parade them\nthrough the most densely crowded streets till eight in the\nevening--vanity being the chief motive of action--while those who move\nin humbler spheres of life take them to boats on the river hired for the\npurpose, and throw them into the water amidst shouts of exultation. The\nmob of course sing obscene songs and dance indecently, all which is\ntolerated for the occasion. The growing sense of the people--the result\nof English education--has now-a-days greatly diminished the amount of\nindecency which was one of the distinguishing characteristics of former\ndays on such an occasion.\n\nBetween seven and eight o'clock in the evening, the assembled crowd\nbegins to disperse in joyous mood, talking all the way as to the\nrespective superiority of such and such images. Amongst such a great\nnumber and variety, there is sure to be difference of opinion, but it is\nsoon settled by the affirmation of a wise head that \"the spirit of the\ngoddess is the same in all the images; _Ma Doorga_, does not mind show.\"\n\nWhen the worshippers and others return home, they go at once to the\ntemple, where the officiating Brahmin waits for them to sprinkle on\ntheir bodies the sacred water; all are made to sit down on the floor\nwith their feet covered with their clothes, lest a drop should fall upon\nthem. The Brahmin with a small twig of mangoe leaves sprinkles the\nwater, while repeating at the same time the usual incantation, the\nmeaning of which is that health, wealth and prosperity may attend the\nvotaries of _Doorga_, from year to year. After this they write on a\npiece of green plantain leaf the name of the goddess several times, and\nthen clasp one another in their arms, and take the dust off the feet of\nall the seniors, with the mutual expression of good wishes for their\nworldly prosperity. An elderly man thus blesses a boy; \"may you have\nlong life, gold inkstand and gold pen, acquire profound learning and\nimmense wealth, and support lakhs of men\"; If a girl, he thus pronounces\nhis benediction (there being no clasping of arms between man and woman\nnor between woman and woman), \"may you enjoy all the blessings of a\nmarried life (_i. e._, never become a widow) become the mother of a\n_rajah_ (king), use vermillion on your grey head, continue to wear the\niron bangle, get seven male children, and never know want.\" It is well\nknown that no blessing is more acceptable to a Hindoo female than that\nshe may never become a widow, because the intolerable miseries of\nwidowhood are most piercing to her heart; nor can it be otherwise so\nlong as human nature remains unaltered. This social institution of the\nHindoos of cordially embracing each other and expressing all manner of\ngood wishes on a particular day of the year, when all hearts are more or\nless affected with grief at the departure of the goddess, is a very\ncommendable one. It has an excellent tendency to promote social reunion,\ngood fellowship and brotherhood. Not only all the absent friends,\nrelatives, acquaintances and neighbours, male and female, join in this\nannual greeting, but even strangers and the most menial servants are not\nforgotten on the occasion. Every heart rejoices, every tongue blesses,\nevery acrimonious feeling is consigned to oblivion. This is a \"quiet\ninterval at least between storm and storm; _interspaces_ of sunlight\nbetween the breadths of gloom, a glad voice on summer holidays, happy in\nunselfish friendships, in generous impulses, in strong health, in the\nfreedom from all cares, in the confidence of all hopes.\" During such a\nhappy period \"it is a luxury to breathe the breath of life.\"\n\nTo drown their sorrows in forgetfulness, the Hindoos use a slight\nintoxicating beverage made of hemp leaves on this particular occasion.\nEvery one that comes to visit--and there must be a social gathering--or\nis present, is treated with this diluted beverage and sweets. Even the\nmost innocent and simple females for once in a year are tacitly allowed\nto use it, but very sparingly. One farthing's worth of hemp leaves, or\nabout one ounce, suffices for fifty persons or more, so that it becomes\nalmost harmless when so copiously diluted. But those who have imbibed a\ntaste for English wines and spirits always indulge freely on this\noccasion, giving little heed to temperance rules and lectures. It is\n\"_Bijoya_\" and drinking to excess is justifiable.\n\nIt would not be proper to close this subject without saying a few words\nabout the national excitement which the approach of this festival\nproduces, and the powerful impetus it gives to trade in general. It has\nbeen roughly estimated that upwards of a crore of Rupees (L10,000,000)\nis spent every year in Bengal on account of this festival. Every family,\nfrom the aristocracy to the peasant, must have new clothes, new shoes,\nnew every thing. Men, women, children, relatives, poor acquaintances and\nneighbours, nay beggars must have their holiday dress. Persons in\nstraitened circumstances, who actually live from hand to mouth, deposit\ntheir hard-earned savings for a twelvemonth to be spent on this grand\nfestival. Famished beggars who drag a miserable existence all their\nlives, and depend on precarious alms to keep their body and soul\ntogether all the year round, hopefully look forward to the return of\nthis anniversary for at least a temporary change in their rags and\ntatters. Hungry Brahmins, whose daily avocation brings them only a\nscanty allowance of rice and plantain, cheerfully welcome the advent of\n\"_Ma Doorga_\" and gratefully watch the day when their empty coffer shall\nbe replenished. Cloth merchants, weavers, braziers, goldsmiths,\nembroiderers, lace-makers, mercers, haberdashers, carpenters, potters,\nbasket-makers, painters, house-builders, English, Chinese and Native\nshoemakers, ghee, sugar and corn merchants, grocers, confectioners,\ndealers in silver and tinsel ware, songsters, songstresses, musicians,\nhackney carriage keepers, Oorya bearers, hawkers, pedlars and such\ndealers in miscellaneous wares, all look forward to the busy season when\ntheir whole year's hopes shall be realised by bringing lots of Rupees\ninto the till. To a man of practical experience in business matters, as\nfar as the metropolis of British India is concerned, it is perhaps well\nknown that the \"Trades\" because of the Doorga Poojah make _more_ in one\nmonth than they can possibly make in the remaining eleven months. From\nthe first week in September to the middle of October, when the Poojah\npreparations are being actually made by the Hindoos, when they, frugal\nas they assuredly are, once in a twelvemonth, loosen their purse\nstrings, when the accumulated interest on Government securities is\ndrawn, when all the arrears of house rent are peremptorily demanded,\nwhen remittance from the distant parts of the country arrives, when in\nshort, rupees, annas and pice, are the \"Go\" of the inhabitants, the\nshopkeepers make a display of their goods as best they can. From sunrise\nto ten o'clock at night the influx of customers continues unabated,\nextra shops are opened and extra assistants employed, the shopkeepers\nthemselves have scarcely leisure enough to take a hasty meal a day, and\neach day's sales swell the heart of the owner. The thrifty and\neconomical Provincial, who loves money as dearly as the blood that runs\nthrough his veins, leisurely makes his sundry purchases before the\nregular rush of customers begins to pour in. He has not only the choice\nof a large assortment, and the \"pick,\" of a new investment, but gets\nthe benefit of a reasonable price, because the shopkeeper is not hard\nand tenacious in the early stage of the Poojah sale. As each day passes,\nand novelties are exposed for public inspection, the shopkeeper raises\nhis prices according to increasing demand. The effeminate and\nextravagant Baboo of the City, who does not worship Mammon half so\ndevoutly as his country brother, does not mind paying a little too much\nfor his \"whistle,\" because he is large hearted and liberal minded. His\nmore frequent intercourse with Englishmen has taught him to look upon\nmoney as \"filthy lucre.\" He is not calculating, and hence he defers\nmaking his purchases till the eleventh hour, when, to use a native\nexpression, \"the shopkeeper cuts the neck with one stroke.\"\n\nAbout one-fifth of the Hindoo population of Calcutta consists of people\nthat are come from the contiguous villages and pergunnas of the\nPresidency Division; these men live in Calcutta solely for employment,\nkeeping their families in the country where they have generally small\nfarms of their own which yield them enough produce in the shape of rice,\npulses, cereals, vegetables, &c., to last them throughout the year,\nleaving, in some instances, ample surplus stock, with which and a few\nmilch cows as well as tanks, they husband their resources with the\ngreatest frugality, and enjoy every domestic comfort and convenience.\nThey do not care for Davie Wilson's biscuits and sponge-cakes, or a\nglass of raspberry ice-cream or Roman Punch on a summer day; their bill\nof fare is as short and simple as their taste is primitive. These men\nmake their Poojah purchases much earlier than their brethren in the\ncity, simply because they have to start for home as soon as the public\nholidays commence on the eve of the fourth day of the increase of the\nmoon. If the Indian Railways have benefited one class of the people more\nthan another, it is these men who should be thankful for the boon. If\nthe East Indian and Eastern Bengal Railway Companies' coaching receipts\nare properly examined for two days, _viz._, the fourth and fifth days of\nthe new moon or the beginning of the Doorga Poojah holidays, they will\ncertainly exhibit an incredibly large amount of receipts from third\nclass carriages. Indeed it has been rather facetiously remarked by\ntown's people that Calcutta becomes much lighter by reason of the exit\nof country people during the Doorga Poojah holidays, but then the return\nof the former to their home from the Moffussil should be also taken into\nthe account. On a fair calculation, the outgoing number far exceeds the\nincoming proportion. It should also be observed that the list of\npurchases of the former embraces a greater variety of items than that of\nthe latter. Their mothers, wives, daughters and sisters, not to speak of\nthe male members of the family, being absent in the country-house, the\nwant of each and every one must be supplied. Articles for domestic\nconsumption in a Hindoo family are in the greatest requisition.\nLooking-glasses, combs, _alta_, _sidoor_ or China vermillion, _ghoomsi_\n(string round the loins), scented drugs for ladies' hair, black powder\nfor the teeth, soap, pomatum, otto of rose, rose water, wax candles,\n_sidoorchoobry_ (toilet box made of small shells), silk, thread, wool,\ncarpets, spices of all sorts both for the betel and the kitchen,\nbetel-nuts, cocoanut oil for ladies' hair, sugar-candy, almonds,\nraisins, Cabul pomegranates, Dacca, Santipore and English made\n_dhooties_, _oorunees_ (sheets), _sarees_ (lady's apparel), silk\nhandkerchiefs, silk cloth, Benares embroidered cloth, satin and velvet\ncaps, lace, hose, tinsel ornaments for the images, English shoes and\nsundries, constitute the catalogue of their purchases. This explains\ntheir going into the Bazar early and accounts for their extra\nexpenditure on the score of luxuries and superfluities of life, but the\nreader should bear in mind that such extravagance is indulged in only\nonce a year. Generally esteemed as these people are for their saving\nqualities, frugal, simple and abstemious habits, an annual departure\nfrom the established rule is not unjustifiable. The rich classes, as\nwill be evident from what has been said, spend enormous sums in making\ntheir fashionable purchases on this occasion.\n\nFrom the foregoing details it is easy to infer that the Doorga Poojah\nanniversary presses heavily on the limited resources of a Hindoo family.\nA rich man experiences little difficulty in meeting his expenses, but\nthe middling and the humbler classes, who comprise nine-tenths of the\npopulation, are put to their wits' end to make both ends meet. They are\nsometimes obliged to solicit the pecuniary aid of their rich friends to\nenable them to get over the _Doorga_ difficulty. It is, perhaps, not\ngenerally known that during this popular festival, or rather before it,\nwhen all Bengal is in a state of social and religious ferment, when\nmoney must be had by fair means or foul, not a few unfortunate men,\nchiefly libertines and rakes, deliberately commit frauds by forging\ncheques, drafts, and notes, which eventually lead them into the greatest\ndistress and disgrace. Besides the high price of clothes and of all\ndescriptions of eatables, every family must have a month's provision to\ncarry them through the period during which no money is forthcoming.\n\nI had almost forgotten to say anything about the annual gratuity which\nthe Brahmins of Bengal obtain on the occasion of this festival. From\ntime immemorial, when orthodox Hindooism was in the ascendant, the\nBrahmins not only advanced their claims, as now, to all the offerings\nmade to gods or goddesses, small or great, but established a rule that\nevery Hindoo, whose circumstances would permit it, should give them\nindividually, one, two, four, or five Rupees at the return of this\nfestival. Every respectable Hindoo family, even now-a-days when\nheterodoxy is rampant in all the great centres of education, has to give\nten, fifteen, twenty-five, or fifty Rupees to Brahmins. Rich families\ngive much more. So very tenacious are the Brahmins of this privilege\nthat even if they earn one hundred Rupees a month by employment they\nwill not forego a single Rupee once a year on this occasion, seeing they\nclaim it as a birthright.\n\nThese men have studied human nature, but they have built their hopes of\npermanent gain on the baseless fabric of a hollow superstition, which is\ndestined, through the progress of improvement, inevitably to fall into\ndecay. It is too late to retrieve the huge blunder of laying a false\nfoundation for their gains.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[51] Doorga is also worshipped in the month of April, in the time of the\nvernal equinox, but very few then offer her their devotion, though this\ncelebration claims priority of origin.\n\n[52] For some general remarks on the religion of the Hindoos, see Note\nc.\n\n[53] \"In this ancient story\" says Tod, \"we are made acquainted with the\ndistant maritime wars which the princes of India carried on. Even\nsupposing Ravana's abode to be the insular Ceylon, he must have been a\nvery powerful prince to equip an armament sufficiently numerous to carry\noff from the remote kingdom of _Kousula_ the wife of the great king of\nthe Suryas. It is most improbable that a petty king of Ceylon could wage\nequal war with a potentate who held the chief dominion of India; whose\nfather, _Dosaratha_ drove his victorious car (_ratha_) over every region\n(_desa_) and whose intercourse with the countries beyond the Bramaputra\nis distinctly to be traced in the _Ramayana_.\"\n\n[54] This is also the day which is vulgarly called the _Kala kata\namabashay_ when unripe plantain fruits are cut in immense quantities for\nofferings to Doorga.\n\n[55] This sacred jar is marked with two combined triangles, denoting the\nunion of the two deities, Siva and Doorga,--the worshippers of the\n_Sakti_, female energy, mark the jar with another triangle.\n\n[56] The day before the _Kalpa_ begins, these priests receive new\nclothes, comprising a _dhootie_ and _dubja_, and some money for\n_habishay_, or food destitute of fish. Very few, however, abide by the\nrules enjoined in the holy writings.\n\n[57] Even in the observance of this religious preliminary, the Brahmins\ntake advantage of their superior caste, and curtail five days out of six\nin order to save expense. Every thing is allowable in their case,\nbecause they assume to be the oracles between the god and man.\n\n[58] The vermilion is used by a Hindoo female whose husband is _alive_,\nthe privilege of putting it on the forehead is considered a sign of\ngreat merit and virtue.\n\n[59] There is a singular coincidence between the Hindoos and the ancient\nheathen nations in regard to music. In both it is used as an\nindispensable accompaniment to religious worship.\n\n[60] It is no less strange than surprising that ornamental articles\nprepared by the hands of European artisans who are accustomed to eat\nbeef and pork, the very mention, and much more, the touch of which\ncontaminates the purity of religion, are put on the bodies and heads of\nHindoo gods without the least religious scruple, simply for the\ngratification of vanity. So much for the consistent and immaculate\ncharacter of the Hindoo creed!\n\n[61] These scented oils are mostly prepared by Mussulmans, whose very\ntouch is enough to desecrate a thing; the Brahmins knowing this fact\nunhesitatingly use them for religious purposes. Thus we see in almost\nevery sphere of social and domestic life the fundamental rules of\nreligious purity are shamefully violated.\n\n[62] It is deserving of notice that the slaughter of oxen, cows or\ncalves is most religiously forbidden in the Hindoo Shaster. Divine\nhonors are paid to the species. The cow is regarded as a form of Doorga\nand called Bhuggobutty. The husband of Doorga, Shiva, rides naked on an\nox. The very _dung_ of a cow purifies all unclean things in a Hindoo\nhousehold, and possesses the property of a disinfectant. The milk of a\ncow assuredly affords the best nourishment to the young and the old,\nhence the species was deified by the Hindoo sages. Even after the advent\nof the English into this country for above two centuries, an orthodox\nHindoo is apt to exclaim \"what impious times!\" whenever he happens to\nsee a Mussulman butcher carry a cow or calf in the street for\nslaughtering purposes. Not a few wonder how the English power continues\nto prosper amidst the daily perpetration of such irreligious acts. By\nway of derision, the English are called _gokhaduk_ or beef-eaters and\nthe _goylas_ (milkmen) _Kasays_ or butchers. If such Hindoos had power\nenough they would certainly have delivered their country from the grasp\nof these beef-eaters and placed it above the reach of sacrilligious\nhands. But alas! in the present _Kaliyaga_ or iron age, both they and\ntheir gods are alike impotent.\n\n[63] It is generally known that except the Brahmins, who are\nproverbially noted for their eating propensities, scarcely any\nrespectable Hindoo condescends to sit down to a regular _jalpan_ dinner\nat this popular festival. He comes, gives his usual _pranamy_ of one\nRupee to the goddess in the _thacoordallan_, talks with the owner of the\nhouse for a few minutes, is presented by way of compliment with otto of\nroses and pan, and then goes away, making the stereotyped plea that he\nhas many other places to go to. Besides this, every man is expected to\nprovide himself at home with a good stock of choice eatables on this\nfestive occasion. The prices of sweetmeats, already too high, are nearly\ndoubled at this time, because of the large demand and small supply. From\n32 Rupees a maund (82 lbs) the normal price of _sundesh_ in ordinary\ntimes, it rises to 60 or 70 Rupees in the Poojah time. Milk sells at\nfour annas a pound, and without milk no _sundesh_ could be made. It is\nthe most expensive article of food among the Hindoos of Bengal, when\nwell made with fresh _channa_ (curded milk) it has a fine taste, but is\nentirely destitute of nutritive property. The Hindoos of the Upper\nProvinces, however, do not regard the preparation as _pure_, and\nconsequently do not use it, because of its admixture with curded milk.\n\n[64] Rich men are in the habit of firing guns for the guidance of the\npeople.\n\n[65] The flesh of buffaloes is used only by sweepers, shoemakers, &c.,\nwho sometimes quarrel for the possession of the slaughtered animals. The\nmeat with country liquor ends in drunken feasts.\n\n[66] The late Rajah Rajkissen Bahadoor, Baboos Santiram Sing, Ramdoolal\nDey, Shibnarain Ghose, Prankissen Holdar, the Mullick family, the Ghosal\nfamily of Bhookoylash and others, spent large sums of money from year to\nyear in giving clothes, food and money to a very large number of poor\nmen, and liberating prisoners from jail on payment of their debts. Any\nrelief to suffering humanity is certainly an act of great merit for\nwhich the donors deserve well of the community. In our days there are\nseveral Baboos who do the same on a limited scale, but the name of Baboo\nTarucknauth Puramanick of Kassiriparrah deserves a special notice.\nNaturally unassuming and unambitious, his character is as irreproachable\nas his large-heartedness is conspicuous. On every anniversary of the\nDoorga Poojah, and on almost every religious celebration, he gives alms\nto hundreds and thousands of poor people without distinction of caste or\ncreed. On the occasion of the Doorga Poojah festival he would not break\nhis fast until midnight, when he is assured that all the poor people who\ncame to his door have been duly provided with food and coppers. For\nthree nights this distribution of alms continues. The public road before\nhis house is closed by order of the police for the accommodation of\nbeggars. Five or six times in a month he feeds all the poor people that\ncome to his house, hence the fame of his generosity is spread far and\nwide, and he is surnamed Taruck Baboo, \"the _datta_\" or charitable--a\ndistinction which the more opulent of his countrymen (and there are not\na few) should seek to covet.\n\n[67] An _Urghy_ is a bunch of doorva grass tied up at the last, either\nwith red cotton or a slip of plantain leaf. Two or three of such bundles\nare made, one is placed on the crown of the goddess and two on her two\nfeet. It is usually stuffed with paddy and besmeared with sandal wood\nwater and vermillion. It is a sacred offering and consequently preserved\nfor solemn occassions.\n\n[68] Home made things are, in the long run, cheaper and more preferable\nto the questionable products of the market, which are not only inferior\nin quality but are more or less subject to defilement, being exposed for\nsale to people of all castes. This detracts from the absolute purity of\nthe preparation.\n\n[69] It would not be out of place to observe here that liberal Hindoos\nas a body are not beef-eaters as is vulgarly supposed. They are content\nwith fowls, goat, sheep and fish. About forty years ago before the\nCalcutta University was founded, the late Baboo Isser Chunder Goopto,\nthe editor of _Pravakur_, a vernacular news paper, very cleverly hit off\nand satirised in popular ballads the then growing desire of the young\nHindoo reformers to adopt a European style of eating. He commenced with\nRammohun Roy--the pioneer of Hindoo reformation--and thus sarcastically\ndescribed his public career. Addressing _Saraswattee_ the Hindoo goddess\nof learning, he thus laments: \"Oh goddess! in vain have you established\nschools in Calcutta, look at the end of that Roy (Rammohun Roy);\nprofound learning had wafted him over the waters to a distant region\n(England), and never brought him back again.\" As regards the young\nalumni, he makes a wife thus accost her husband: \"_Pran, Pran_, my\nheart, my heart, you go to society and lectures every day, and when the\nExamination is held at the Town Hall you get prizes, heaps and heaps of\nbooks you read and always remain outside. Is it written in the books\nthat you should never touch the body of a female? What sort of a\n_gooroo_ (master) is your Sahib? he is a regular _garu_ (bull) if he\ngive you such lessons. You dislike _loochee_ and _munda_ (Hindoo\nsweetmeats) but you get _gunda_ and _gunda_ of fowl eggs and satisfy\nyour hunger, and for you all there is an end of cows and calves.\" But\nthis is an exaggeration about the eating of beef by the educated\nHindoos. Except a few medical students, who have, in a great measure,\novercome their prejudices by the constant handling of dead bodies, the\nrest still feel a sort of natural repugnance to eating beef. This is,\nperhaps, the effect of early impressions produced by the religious\nveneration in which a cow is held among the Hindoos. \"The superstitious\nreverence,\" says an eminent writer, \"for the ox, points doubtless to a\nperiod when that useful animal was first naturalized in India and\nprotected by a law for its preservation and encouragement, which, now\nthat the original intention is lost sight of in the lapse of ages, has\ninvested the cattle with a religious character, and, indeed, it is not\n200 years since the Emperor Jehangir was obliged once to prohibit the\nslaughter of kine for a term of years, as a measure absolutely required\nto prevent the ruin of agriculture.\" It is a striking fact that that\nloathsome disease, leprosy, is very common among the lower orders of\nMussulmans who use this meat freely. Perhaps it is more suited to the\ninhabitants of milder regions than those of a tropical climate.\n\n[70] So great was the mania for extravagant, ostentations show, that\ninstances were not wanting in which a lakh of Rupees was freely spent on\nthis grand occasion. The late Prankissen Holdar, of Chinsurah, in the\nneighbourhood of Calcutta, expended annually for three or four years the\nabove sum in furnishing his house without stint of cost in truly\noriental style, giving rich entertainments to Europeans and Natives, and\ndistributing alms among the poor. There was no Railway then, and\nconsequently the boat hire alone from Calcutta to Chinsurah for English\nand Native grandees might have cost four to five thousand Rupees. The\nvery invitation cards written in golden letters with gold fringes cost\neight to ten Rupees each. For the entertainment of his English friends\nhe used to give ten thousand Rupees to Messrs. Gunter and Hooper, the\nthen public Purveyors of Calcutta. First class wines and provisions were\nprocured in abundance, and arranged in the corridor under European and\nMahomedan stewards, while one hundred Brahmins were engaged in prayers,\nreciting _Chundee_ and repeating the name of the god, Modosoodun, for\nthe propitiation of the goddess and the interests of the family. It\nsometimes so happened that the clang of knives, forks and spoons was\nsimultaneous with the sound of the holy bell and conch, the one\nneutralising what the other was supposed to produce in a religious point\nof view.\n\n[71] \"The reader will recollect that the festivals of Bacchus and Cybele\nwere equally noted for the indecencies practised by the worshippers both\nin their words and actions.\"\n\n[72] The Reverend Mr. Maurice, a pious clergyman, who had never seen\nthese ceremonies, attempted to paint them in the most captivating terms.\nShould he think that Hindoo idolatry is capable of exciting the most\nelevated conceptions about the godhead and leading the mind to the true\npath of righteousness, let him come and join the Brahmins and their\nnumerous devotees in crying \"Hurree Bole! Hurree Bole! Joy Doorga! Joy\nKally!\" \"Mr. Forbes, of Stanmore Hill, in his elegant museum of Indian\nrarities, numbers two of the bells that have been used in devotion by\nthe Brahmins. They are great curiosities, and one of them in particular\nappears to be of very high antiquity, in form very much resembling the\ncup of the lotus, and the tune of it is uncommonly soft and melodious. I\ncould not avoid being deeply affected with the sound of an instrument\nwhich had been actually employed to kindle the flame of that\nsuperstition which I have attempted so extensively to unfold. My\ntransported thoughts travelled back to the remote period when Brahmin\nreligion blazed forth in all its splendour in the caverns of Elephanta:\nI was, for a moment, entranced, and caught the odour of enthusiasm. A\ntribe of venerable priests, arrayed in flowing stoles, and decorated\nwith high tiaras, seemed assembled around me, the mystic song of\ninitiation vibrated in my ear; I breathed an air fragrant with the\nrichest perfumes, and contemplated the deity in the fire that symbolized\nhim.\" And again, in another place, \"She, (the Hindoo religion) wears the\nsimilitude of a beautiful and radiant cherub from Heaven, bearing on his\npersuasive lips the accents of pardon and peace, and on his silken wings\nbenefaction and blessing.\" What strange hallucinations some of these\nChristian ministers labour under in attempting to reconcile the ideas of\nidolatry with those of the True and Living God!\n\n\n\n\nIX.\n\nTHE KALI POOJAH FESTIVAL.\n\n\nIn Bengal, next to the Doorga Poojah in point of importance stands the\nKali Poojah, which invariably takes place on the last night of the\ndecrease of the moon, in the month of Kartik (between October and\nNovember). She is represented as standing on the breast of her husband,\nShiva, with a tongue projecting to a great length. She has four arms, in\none of which she holds a scimitar; in another, the head of a giant whom\nshe has killed in a fight, the third hand is spread out for the purpose\nof bestowing blessing, while by the fourth, she welcomes the blessed.\nShe also wears a necklace of skulls and has a girdle of hands of giants\nround her loins. To add to the terrific character of the goddess, she is\nrepresented as a very black female with her locks hanging down to her\nheels. The reason ascribed for her standing on the breast of her\nhusband, is the following: In a combat with a formidable giant called\nRuckta Beeja, she became so elated with joy at her victory that she\nbegan to dance in the battle-field so frantically that all the gods\ntrembled and deliberated what to do in order to restore peace to the\nearth, which, through her dancing was shaken to its foundation. After\nmuch consultation, it was decided that her husband should be asked to\nrepair to the scene of action and persuade her to desist. Shiva, the\nhusband, accordingly came down, but seeing the dreadful carnage and the\ninfuriated countenance as well as the continued dancing of his wife, who\ncould not in her frenzy recognise him, he threw himself among the dead\nbodies of the slain. The goddess was so transported with joy that in one\nof her dancing feats she chanced to step upon the breast of her husband,\nwhereupon the body moved. Struck with amazement she stood motionless\nfor a while, and fixing her gaze at length discovered that she had\ntrampled on her husband. The sight at once restored her feminine\nmodesty, and she stood aghast feeling shocked at the unhappy accident.\nTo express her shame, she put out her tongue and in that posture she is\nworshipped by her followers.[73]\n\nHer black features, the dark night in which she is worshipped, the\nbloody deeds with which her name is associated, the countless sacrifices\nrelentlessly offered at her altar, the terrific form in which she is\nrepresented, the unfeminine and warlike posture in which she stands, and\nlast but not least, the desperate character of some of her votaries,\ninvest her name with a terror which is without a parallel in the\nmythological legends of the Hindoos. The authors of the Hindoo mythology\ncould not have invented in their fertile imagination a sanguinary\ncharacter more singularly calculated to inspire terror[74] and thereby\nextort the blind adoration of an ignorant populace. About seven hundred\nyears ago, a devoted follower of this goddess, named Agum Bagish,\nproclaimed that her worship should be performed in the following manner:\nThe image is to be made, set up, worshipped and destroyed on the same\nnight. It is a _nishi_ or midnight Poojah on the darkest night of the\nmonth, so that not a single soul from outside could know it. He strictly\nobserved this rule while he was alive, and it was said that Rajah\nKrishnu Chunder Roy of Kishnaghur followed his example for some time.\nBaboo Obhoy Churn Mitter of Calcutta and Bhobaney Churn Mookerjee of\nJessore also tried to observe the rule prescribed above, but as it has\nbeen alleged the spirit of secret devotion forsook them after a little\nwhile. They reverted to the general custom of worshipping the goddess\non the darkest night in Kartik, inviting friends and making pantomimic\nexhibitions.\n\nThough her Poojah lasts but one night, the sacrifices of goats, sheep\nand buffaloes are as numerous as those offered before the altar of\nDoorga. In former times, when idolatry prevailed universally throughout\nBengal and religious belief of the people therein was firm and unshaken,\nthe splendour with which the worship of this goddess was performed was\nsecond only, as I have remarked, to that of the Doorga. Both goddesses,\nhowever, still continue to count their votaries by millions. \"The reader\nmay form some idea,\" says Mr. Ward, \"how much idolatry prevailed at the\ntime when the Hindoo monarchy flourished from the following\ncircumstance, which belongs to a modern period, when the Hindoo\nauthority in Hindoosthan was almost extinct. Rajah Krishnu Chunder Roy,\nand his two immediate successors, in the month of Kartick, annually gave\norders to all the people over whom they had a nominal authority to keep\nthe _shyma_ festival, and threatened every offender with the severest\npenalties on non-compliance. In consequence of these orders, in more\nthan ten thousand houses in one night, in the Zillah of Kishnaghur, the\nworship of this goddess was celebrated. The number of animals destroyed\ncould not have been less than ten thousand.\"\n\nKali, like Doorga, Siva, Vishnu and Krishna, is the guardian deity of\nmany Hindoos, who daily offer their prayers to her both in the morning\nand evening. Several, who possess great wealth and know not how to\nemploy it better, dedicate temples to her service and consecrate them\nwith ample endowments. In the holy City of Benares, there still exists a\nKali shrine where hundreds of beggars are daily fed at the expense of\nthe founder, the late Rani Bhobaney of Nattore. Nearly a hundred and\nfifty years ago, Raja Ramkrishna erected a temple at Burranagore, about\nsix miles north of Calcutta, in honor of this goddess, and spent upwards\nof a lakh of Rupees when it was first consecrated. He endowed it with a\nlarge revenue for its permanent support, so that any number of religious\nmendicants who might come there daily could be easily fed. In his\nprosperous days, this rich zemindar paid an annual revenue of fifty-two\nlakhs of Rupees to the East India Company. Unfortunately the family has\nsince been reduced to a state of poverty, and the temple is a heap of\nruins. The endowment, like most other endowments of this nature,\ndisappeared soon after the death of the founder. The Rajah of Burdwan's\nendowment of this kind still endures, and promises to enjoy a longer\nlease of life.\n\nThe name of Kali, be it observed, is more extensively used than either\nthat of Doorga or Shiva. Whenever a Native Regiment is to march or set\nout on an expedition the stereotyped acclaim is,--\"_Kali Maikey Jay_,\"\n\"victory to mother Kali.\" When the evening gun is fired in any of the\nmilitary stations, the almost involuntary exclamation is, \"_Jay Kali\nCalcutta Wallee_.\" Nor is her worship less universal than her fame. On\nthe last night of the decrease of the moon in Kartik, every family in\nBengal must worship her though in a somewhat different shape. Every\nfamily, rich or poor, Brahmin or Soodar, must celebrate the Lucki or\nKali Poojah before the sacred _Reck_ of _dhan_ or paddy, which in the\nestimation of a Hindoo is a valuable heritage.[75] Several incidents\nconnected with this religious festival are worth recording. In the Upper\nand Central Provinces, as in the South of Hindoostan, it is called the\n_Dewallee_ Festival. Though the image is not set up, yet the Hindoo and\nParsi inhabitants observe the holiday by opening their new year's\naccount on that day. Illuminations, fireworks and all sorts of\nfestivities mark the day. To try their luck for the next year, almost\nall Hindoo merchants and bankers indulge in gambling that night, and\nlarge sums are sometimes at stake on the occasion. In Calcutta, where\ngambling is strictly prohibited, the law is shamefully violated on that\ndark night. This does not imply any reflection on the vigilance of the\nPolice, because the game is carried on surreptitiously. The Parsi\nmerchants who deal in wines and stores throw open their shops and treat\ntheir European customers free of cost on that particular day. Their\nbrethren in Bengal are, however, not so liberal to their customers,\nsimply because it is not their new year's day. In Calcutta and all over\nBengal the night is remarkable for illumination,[76] fireworks,\nfeasting, carousing and gambling. There is a time-honored custom among\nthe people to light bundles of _paycattee_ or faggots that night. As is\nnaturally to be expected the children take a great delight in such\npastimes. At the close of the Poojah a servant of the house takes a\n_Koolow_ or winnowing fan and a stick with which he beats and sings \"Bad\nluck out\" and \"Good luck in.\"[77]\n\n\nKali is also the guardian deity of thieves, robbers, _thugs_ and such\nlike desperate characters. Before starting on their diabolical work,\nthey invoke her aid to protect them from detection and punishment. The\nsupposed aid of the goddess arms them with courage and leads them to\ncommit the most atrocious crimes. When successful they come and offer\nsacrifices of goats, spirituous liquors and other things, under an\nimpression that the superintending power of the goddess has shielded\nthem from all harm. But the unbending rigor of the British law has\nalmost entirely dissipated the delusion. Many an infamous dacoit in\nBengal has confessed his guilt on the scaffold, lamenting that \"_Ma\nKali_\" had not protected him in the hour of need. The notorious \"Rugho\nDacoit\" of Hooghly, whose very name terrified a wayward child into\nsleep, made fearful disclosures as to the originating cause of his\nnumerous crimes. Some forty years ago there lived in Calcutta a very\nrespectable Hindoo gentleman, by name Rajkissore Dutt, who was a very\ngreat devotee of this goddess. Every month, on the last night of the\ndecrease of the moon, he, it was said, used to set up an image of this\ngoddess, and adorned her person with gold and silver ornaments to the\nvalue of about one thousand Rupees which were afterwards given to the\nofficiating priest. On the annual return of this grand Poojah in the\nmonth of Kartik, he used to give the goddess a gold tongue, and decorate\nher four arms with divers gold ornaments to the cost of about three\nthousand Rupees, and his other expenses amounted to another six or seven\nthousand. For a number of years he continued to celebrate the Poojah in\nthe above magnificent style, his veneration becoming more intensified as\nhis wealth increased. He established a Bank in Calcutta called the\n\"India Bank,\" which circulated notes of its own to a considerable\namount. A combination was formed among a few influential Natives, whose\nnames I am ashamed to mention, and a well concocted system of fraud was\norganised. Through one, Dwarkey Nath Mitter, a son-in-law of Rajkissore,\nCompany's Paper or Government Securities to the amount of about twenty\nLakhs of Rupees were forged and passed off as genuine on the public. But\nas fraud succeeds for a short while only, the gigantic scheme was soon\ndiscovered, and the delinquent was tried, convicted and sentenced to\ntransportation for life to one of the Penal Settlements of the East\nIndia Company, where he lived for several years to rue the consequences\nof his iniquitous conduct. His eldest son told the writer that his\nfather concealed in a wall of one of the rooms of his house Bank notes\nfor upwards of a Lakh of Rupees. When the search of the Police was over\nhe opened the part of the wall and to his utter disappointment found all\nthe notes crumbled to pieces, and become a small bundle of rotten paper\nof no earthly use to any one. Thus was iniquity rightly punished. No\nwonder that the deep faith of Rajkissore in the goddess Kali did not\navail him in the hour of danger. His flagitious career commenced by a\nblind devotion to his guardian deity, culminated in a gigantic forgery,\nand closed with transportation and infamy.\n\nIt is generally known that there exists a temple of this goddess in the\nsuburbs of Calcutta, which has long been celebrated for its sanctity.\nThe place is called Kali Ghat, about four miles south of Government\nHouse. It is not exactly known when this temple was first built. The\nprobable conjecture is that some three hundred years ago a shrewd and\nfar-seeing member of the sacerdotal class, observing the great\nveneration in which the goddess was held among the Hindoos of those\ndays, erected a temple to the image and gave the place a name after her,\nthe renown of which, as Calcutta grew in importance, gradually spread\nfar and wide. To perpetuate the holy character of the shrine, and to\nconsecrate it by traditional sanctity, the following story was given\nout, in the truth of which the generality of the orthodox Hindoos have a\nfirm belief. In time out of mind, when the Suttee (Doorga) destroyed\nherself on the _Trisool_ (three edged weapon), one of her fingers was\nsaid to have fallen on the spot on which the temple now stands and in\nwhose recess the priests pretend it is still preserved. Hence the sacred\ncharacter of the shrine, which still attracts thousands of devotees\nevery year from all parts. In popular estimation from a religious point\nof view she does not yield much to the Juggernauth of Orissa, the\nBisseshur of Benares, the Krishna of Brindabun, the Gyasoor of Gya, and\nthe Mahadeb of Buddinauth. Fortunately for the site of the temple, which\nis in close proximity to the metropolis of British India, and until\nrecently was in the immediate neighbourhood of the highest Appellate\nCourt (Suddur Dewanny Adawlut) independently of its bordering on the\n_Addigunga_ (the original sacred stream of Ganges), it has always drawn\nthe wealthiest and poorest portions of the Hindoo community. Had the\nofferings in gold, silver and in kind fallen to the share of one priest,\nit is not too much to say that he would long before this have been as\nrich as the Juggut Sett (Banker of the world) of Moorshedabad, who was\nreputed to have been worth upwards of fifteen _crores_ of Rupees.\n\nWealthy Hindoos, when on a visit to Kali Ghat, expend from one to fifty\nthousand Rupees on the worship of this goddess, in the shape of valuable\nornaments, silver plate, dishes &c., sweetmeats and food for a large\nnumber of Brahmins, and small presents to thousands of beggars, besides\nnumerous sacrifices of goats, sheep and buffaloes, which make the space\nbefore the temple swim with blood. The flesh of goat, and sheep is\nfreely used by the _sakta_ class of Hindoos when offered to Kali and\nDoorga, but they would never use it without such an oblation. It is\notherwise called _britha_ or unsanctified flesh, which is altogether\nquite unfit for the use of a religious Hindoo. But the progress of\nEnglish education has made terrible inroads on the religious practices\nof the people, at least of the rising generation.[78] The following\ndescription of the Kali or _Shyma_ Poojah given by Mr. Ward will serve\nto convey to the reader some idea of the nature of the festival.\n\n\"A few years ago,\" says he, \"I went to the house of Kali Sunkur Ghose at\nCalcutta, at the time of the Shyma festival, to see the animals\nsacrificed to Kali. The buildings where the worship was performed were\nraised on four sides, with an area in the middle. The image was placed\nat the north end with the face to the south; and the two side rooms, and\none of the end rooms opposite the image, were filled with spectators: in\nthe area were the animals devoted to sacrifice, and also the\nexecutioner, with Kali Sunkur, a few attendants, and about twenty\npersons to throw the animal down and hold it in the post, while the head\nwas cut off. The goats were sacrificed first, then the buffaloes, and\nlast of all, two or three rams. In order to secure the animals, ropes\nwere fastened round their legs; they were then thrown down, and the neck\nplaced in a piece of wood fastened into the ground and open at the top\nlike the space betwixt the prongs of a fork. After the animal's neck was\nfastened in the wood by a peg which passed over it, the men who held it\npulled forcibly at the heels, while the executioner, with a broad heavy\naxe cut off the head at one blow; the heads were carried in an elevated\nposture by an attendant, (dancing as he went) the blood running down him\non all sides, into the presence of the goddess. Kali Sunkur, at the\nclose, went up to the executioner, took him in his arms, and gave him\nseveral presents of cloth, &c. The heads and blood of the animals, as\nwell as different meat offerings, are presented, with incantations, as a\nfeast to the goddess, after which clarified butter is burnt on a\nprepared altar of sand. Never did I see men so eagerly enter into the\nshedding of blood, nor do I think any butchers could slaughter animals\nmore expertly. The place literally swam with blood. The bleating of the\nanimals, the numbers slain, and the ferocity of the people employed,\nactually made me unwell, and I returned about midnight, filled with\nhorror and indignation.\" In the foregoing account, Mr. Ward has omitted\nto say anything about the nocturnal revelry with which the festival is\nin most instances accompanied. I have witnessed scenes on such\noccasions, which are too disgusting to be described. Not only the\nofficiating priest and the spiritual guide, but all the members of the\nfamily and not a few of the guests partake of the spirituous liquors\noffered to the goddess, and in a state of intoxication sing _Ramprasadi_\nsongs befitting the occasion. The festival closes with orgies such as\nare observed in the worship of Bacchus. There are, however, a few\nhonorable exceptions to the rule, who, though they perform the worship\nof this goddess, yet altogether abstain from drinking. The goddess,\nKali, is their guardian deity, they worship her daily, but are known\nnever to touch a drop of wine. They attribute to her all the worldly\nprosperity they enjoy and look to her for everlasting blessedness. Such\nmen have no faith in the common drunken motto, \"_Bharey ma Bhobaney_,\"\nmother _Bhobaney_ (another name of Kali) is in the cup. But the grand\ncharacteristic of this and similar festivals which are annually\nrecurring is, as I have already mentioned, \"the wine, the fruit and the\nlady fair.\"\n\n\"Even _bacchanalian_ madness has its charms.\"\n\nBut to return to the priests of Kali Ghat.--As time rolled on, their\ndescendants multiplied so rapidly that it soon became necessary to allot\na few days only in the year to each of the families, and on grand\noccasions, which are not a few, the offertories are proportionately\ndivided among the whole set of the sacerdotal class. Thus it has now\nbecome a case of what a Hindoo proverb so aptly expresses: \"The flesh of\na sparrow divided into a hundred parts,\" or infinitesimal quantities.\n\nGod has so constituted man that he can find little or no enjoyment in a\nstate of inactivity. The proper employment of time, therefore, is\nessentially necessary to the progressive development of our powers and\nfaculties, the non exercise of which must needs induce idle and vicious\nhabits. No bread is sweet unless it is earned by the sweat of our brow.\nThe Haldars (priests) of Kali Ghaut having no healthy occupation in\nwhich to engage their minds, and depending for their sustenance on a\nmeans which requires neither physical nor mental labor, have inevitably\nbeen led to adopt the Epicurean mode of life, which says, \"eat, drink\nand be merry.\" This habit is further confirmed by the peculiar nature of\nthe religious principles which the worship of this goddess enjoins.\nCertain texts of the Tantra Shaster expressly inculcate that without\ndrinking the mind is not properly prepared for religious exercise and\ncontemplation. The pernicious effects of such a monstrous doctrine are\nsufficiently obvious. It has been said that not only the men but the\nwomen also are in the habit of drinking. As a necessary consequence the\nvicious practice has not only enervated their minds but made their\n\"wealth small and their want great.\" Disputes often arise between the\nworshippers and the priests of the temple respecting the offerings and\nthe proper division of the same, the latter often claiming the lion's\nshare which the former are unwilling to submit to. Gross lies are\nsometimes told in the presence of the goddess in order to secure to the\nmajor portion of the offerings in the interests of the worshippers--an\nexpedient which the notorious rapacity of the officiating Brahmins\nimperatively demands. Surrounded by an atmosphere densely impregnated\nwith the miasm of a false religion and a corrupt morality, the ennobling\nthought of a true God and the moral accountability of man never enters\ntheir minds. The chief end and aim of their life is to impose on the\ncredulity of their blind votaries, and thereby pander to their\nunhallowed desires and selfish gratification. Nor can they rise to a\nhigher and purer sphere of life because from their childhood they are\nnurtured in the cradle of error, ignorance, indolence and profligacy.\nWho can contemplate the effects of their impure orgies on the eighth,\nninth, fourteenth and fifteen nights of the increase and decrease of the\nmoon without being reminded of the saturnalia of the Greeks?[79] If a\nsober-minded man were to visit the holy shrine of Kali Ghat on one of\nthese nights, he would doubtless be shocked at the unrestrained\ndebauchery that runs riot in the name of religion. The temple, no less\nthan the private domicile of the priests, presents an uninterrupted\nscene of bacchanalian revelry, which is unspeakably abominable. Men\ndeprived of a sense of shame, and women of decency and morality, mingle\nin the revels, and the result is that all the cherished notions of the\nbetter part of humanity are at once put to flight. It is painful to\nreflect that notwithstanding the progress of enlightenment in the great\ncentre of Indian civilization, people still cling to the adoration of a\nblood-thirsty goddess, and to the support of a depraved class of\npriests. The sacrifices of goats that are daily offered before the altar\nof Kali being too numerous for local consumption, are sold to outside\ncustomers much in the same manner as fruits and vegetables are brought\nfrom the neighbouring villages into the market. On Saturday the sale is\nlarger than on the other week days, because that night is specially\ndedicated to the worship of Bacchus, Sunday affording a respite from\nwork. But the sale of Kali Ghat goat meat has of late been much\ninterfered with by the establishment of rival shrines in several parts\nof Calcutta, where a pound is to be had for three annas. The owners\n(mostly prostitutes and drunkards) of these pseudo-goddesses, vulgarly\ncalled _Kashaye_ or butcher Kali, sacrifice one or two goats every\nmorning without any ceremony, except on Saturday when the number is\ndoubled to meet increased requirements. Thus a regular and profitable\nbutcher's trade is openly carried on in the name of the goddess, and the\ngenerality of the _Sakta_ Hindoos feel no religious scruples in using\nthe meat which is thus sanctified. The comparative ease with which flesh\nis now obtained in Calcutta has tended, in no small degree, to encourage\nhabits of drinking among a proverbially abstemious race of men; it being\nthe popular impression that meat neutralises the effects of spirituous\nliquors.[80]\n\nMany images of Kali which have from time to time been set up in and\nabout Calcutta, ostensibly for religious but practically for secular\npurposes, in imitation of the unrivalled prototype at Kali Ghat, have\nacquired unenviable celebrity, and been made subservient as a source of\nincome to the owner and the officiating priests, who fatten on the\nofferings made to the goddess in the shape of money and provisions.\nThus, for instance, the _Sidhassurry_ or Kali of Nimtollah obtains a\nfew Rupees daily from such Hindoos as are carried to the riverside to\nbreathe their last, independently of the small presents made at all\nhours of the day, especially in the mornings and evenings, when the\ncrowd assembles. It is amusing to observe the complaisance with which a\nBrahmin gives a consecrated _Billaputtra_ or flower to a devotee in\nreturn for a Rupee or so. A shrewd Brahmin, like the ancient Roman\nsoothsayer, laughs in his sleeves at such stupidity.\n\nA Sanskrit proverb says that a meritorious work endures. It keeps alive\nthe name of the founder, and this vanity furnishes the strongest\nstimulus to the endowment of works of a religious character, and of\npublic utility. It is, however, a painful fact that the nature and\ncharacter of such endowments is, in most cases, lamentably wanting in\nthe element of stability. Two or three generations after the death of\nthe founder, the substance of the estate being impaired, the family is\nreduced to a state of poverty, the surviving members, often a set of\ndemoralised idlers, depend for their support on the usufruct of the\n_Deybatra_, originally set apart for exclusively religious purposes, and\nplaced beyond the reach of law. In these days the offshoots of many\nfamilies are absolutely dependent on this sacred fund for their\nsubsistence, and the consequence naturally is that the endowment is\nfrittered away and the work itself inevitably falls into decay. Thus in\nprocess of time both the fund and the founder's name pass into utter\noblivion.[81]\n\nThe following account given by Mr. Ward about the death of a devotee of\nthis goddess will not be uninteresting. \"In the year 1809, Trigonu\nGoswamee, a vyuktavudhootu, died at Kali Ghat in the following manner:\nThree days before his death, he dug a grave near his hut, in a place\nsurrounded by three _vilwu_ trees which he himself had planted. In the\nevening he placed a lamp in the grave, in which an offering of flesh,\ngreens, rice, &c., to the shakals was made, repeating it the next\nevening. The following day he obtained from a rich native ten rupees\nworth of spirituous liquors, and invited a number of mendicants, who sat\ndrinking with him till twelve at noon, when he asked among the\nspectators at what hour it would be full moon; being informed, he went\nand sat in his grave, and continued drinking liquors. Just before the\ntime for the full moon, he turned his head towards the temple of Kali,\nand informed the spectators that he had come to Kali Ghat with the hope\nof seeing the goddess, not the image in the temple. He had been\nfrequently urged by different persons to visit the temple, but though he\nhad not assigned a reason for his omission, he now asked what he was to\ngo and see there: a temple? He could see that from where he was. A piece\nof stone made into a face, or the silver hands? He could see stones and\nsilver any where else. He wished to see the goddess herself, but he had\nnot, in this body, obtained the sight. However, he had still a mouth and\na tongue, and he would again call upon her; he then called out aloud\ntwice, \"Kali? Kali?\" and almost immediately died;--probably from\nexcessive intoxication. The spectators, though Hindoos (who in general\ndespise a drunkard), considered this man as a great saint, who had\nforeseen his own death, when in health. He had not less than four\nhundred disciples.\"\n\nThe various causes which have hitherto conspired to impart a sanctity to\nthis famous temple are gradually waning in their influence, but it will\nbe a very long time before the minds of the mass of the people are\ncompletely purified in the crucible of true Religion, before which\nsuperstition and priestcraft must vanish into air.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[73] The Hindoos put out their tongues when they are shocked at\nanything.\n\n[74] \"The image of Minerva, it will be recollected, was that of a\nthreatening goddess, exciting terror. On her shields she bore the head\nof a gorgon. Sir William Jones considers Kali as the Proserpine of the\nGreeks.\"\n\n[75] A _Reck_ is a small round basket, with which Natives measure rice,\nthe staff of life in Bengal. Every family has its sacred _Reck_ of paddy\nwhich is preserved with religious care and brought out on such special\noccasions.\n\n[76] A superstitious idea prevails among the Hindoos that unless they\nilluminate their houses on this particular night, devils would come and\ntake possession of them. In the Upper and Central Provinces it is\ncustomary with the Hindoo inhabitants not only to illuminate but\nwhitewash their houses and decorate the doors and walls of shops with\ncolored China paper so that every thing may look \"_smart_\" according to\nNative taste. In the Jubbulpore District I have seen the poorest laborer\nwhitewash the mud walls of his tiled-hut with one farthing's worth of\nwhite earth called _Sewmattee_ which is found in great abundance in that\npart of the country.\n\n[77] One Joy Ghose, a notorious buffoon, was once asked by his old\nmother to perform the above rite. Joy, instead of reciting the motto in\nthe right way, purposely inverted it just to irritate the old lady, and\nrepeated the first last and the last first. The joke was too much for\nthe sensitive mother; she wrung her breast, tore her hair, and refused\nto be consoled until the son repeated the song in proper order, _i. e._,\n\"bad luck out, good luck in.\" Trifling with _Luckee_, the goddess of\nprosperity, is the height of folly. It is punished with misery here and\nperdition hereafter.\n\n[78] Young Bengal is no longer satisfied with Kali Ghat meat; his taste\nbeing improved and his mind disabused, he must needs have kid and mutton\nfrom the new Municipal market, which is certainly superior in quality to\nthat of Kali Ghat.\n\n[79] The writer in his younger days remembers to have been once taken up\non a Kali Poojah night by a gang of infamous drunkards in the very heart\nof Calcutta. When he was returning home about midnight in company with\nsome of his friends after seeing the _tamasha_, he being the youngest of\nthe lot had necessarily lagged behind, when to his utter dismay he was\nsuddenly laid hold of by a man who smelt strongly of liquor and carried\nhim hurriedly into an empty house on the roadside. The first shout at\nthe very threshold was,--\"here we have got a _moori_\", _i. e._ a victim;\nthe ruffians, who had their faces covered with clothes, jumped up at the\nannouncement, and one of them accosted him in the following\nmanner--\"what money and pice have you got?\" The writer replied a few an\nhis pice only. No Rupees? asked another; whereupon they all fell to\nsearching his person and stripped him of all his clothes, which\nconsisted of a _dhooty_, a _chadur_ and a _jama_, and finally bade him\ngo. As a matter of course he was obliged to return home almost in a\nstate of nudity, one of his friends lending him a _chadur_ on the\noccasion. In these days the introduction of gas light and the posting of\nconstables on the highway have greatly checked such ruffianism.\n\n[80] This idea is strengthened by the opinion of Native medical\nstudents, many of whom, it is a matter of regret, are not great\nadvocates of temperance. Natives use liquor not for health but solely\nfor intoxicating purposes. A very successful Native Practitioner to whom\nnot only the writer but many of his respectable friends are under great\nobligation, not long ago fell a victim to the besetting vice of\nintemperance, and confessed his guilt like a penitent sinner in his\ndying moments. His reputation was so great at one time that it was said\n\"patients felt half cured when he entered the room.\" In the beginning of\nhis brilliant career, he was one of the most staunch advocates of\ntemperance. How frail is human nature!\n\n[81] For an account of the _Bamacharee_ Sect, see note D.\n\n\n\n\nX.\n\nTHE SARASWATI POOJAH.\n\n\nSaraswati is the Hindoo goddess of learning. She is represented as\nseated in a water lily and playing on a lute. Throughout Bengal her\nworship is celebrated with more or less pomp on the fifth day of the\nincrease of the moon, in the Bengali month of Magha or Falgoon\n(February). As the popular Shastras reckon the commencement of spring\nfrom this date, the people, especially the young and gay of both sexes,\nput on _basantee_ or yellow garments, and indulge in all sorts of low\nmerriment, manifesting a depraved and vitiated taste.\n\nEvery Hindoo, young or old, who is able to read and write, observes this\nceremony with apparent solemnity, abstaining from the use of fish on\nthat day as a mark of reverence to the goddess. The worship is performed\neither before an image of the goddess, or before a pen, ink-bottle and\n_pooti_ (manuscript), which are symbolically regarded as an appropriate\nsubstitute for the image. The officiating priest, after reading the\nprescribed formula, and presenting rice, fruits, sweetmeats, flowers,\n&c., directs the votaries of the goddess to stand up with flowers in\ntheir hands and repeat the usual service, beseeching her to bestow on\nthem the blessings of learning, health, wealth, good luck, longevity,\nfame, &c. Apart from its idolatrous feature, it is a rather strange\nsight to see a number of youths, after going through the process of\nablution and changing their clothes, stand up before the goddess in a\nbody, and in a devotional spirit address her in prayer for the blessings\nabove enumerated. Even apart from its superstitious character, it is\ndecidedly objectionable on the score of its purely secular tendency, as\nit makes no allusion whatever to the primary object of all prayer,\n_viz._, the atonement and pardon of sin and the salvation of the\nsoul--an element in which the religious ceremonies of the Hindoos are\nsingularly deficient.\n\n  \"Life is real, life is earnest,\n    And the grave is not its goal;\n  'Dust thou art, to dust returnest,'\n    Was not spoken of the soul.\"\n\nIt was reported of Sir William Jones that when he studied Sanskrit, he\nused to place on the table a metal image of this goddess, evidently to\nplease his Pundit. Let it not be inferred from this that he advocated\nthe continuance of idolatry; far from it, but even in appearance to\nacquiesce in homage to an idol made of clay and straw is to withhold\nfrom the Most High the reverence, gratitude and obedience due to Him\nalone. The early formation of a prayerful habit divested of any\nidolatrous feature will always exercise a healthy religious influence on\nthe mind in maturer years.\n\nIn every _chatoospati_ or school, the Brahmin Pundit and his pupils\nworship this goddess with religious strictness. The Pundit setting up an\nimage, invites all his patrons, neighbouring friends and acquaintances\non this occasion. Every one who attends must make a present of one or a\nhalf Rupee to the goddess, and returns home with the hollow benediction\nof the Brahmin. To so miserable a strait have the learned Pundits been\nreduced of late years, that they anxiously look forward to the\nanniversary of this festival as a small harvest of gain to them, as the\nauthoritative ministers of the goddess. They make from fifty to one\nhundred Rupees a year by the celebration of this Poojah, which keeps\nthem for six months; should any of their friends fail to make the usual\npresent to the goddess, they are sure to come and demand it as a\nright.[82]\n\nFemales are not allowed to take a part in the worship of this goddess,\nsimply because the great lawgiver of the country has denied them this\nprivilege. They, however, now-a-days read and write in spite of the\ntraditional prohibition, but are religiously forbidden to say their\nprayer before the goddess, though she is herself an embodiment of their\nsex. It is quite obvious that feelings of lamentable debasement arise in\ntheir hearts at the annual recurrence of this festival, strongly\nreminding them of the unhealthy, unnatural ordinance of their great\nlawgiver.\n\nThe day following the Poojah, the women are not permitted to eat any\n_fresh_ prepared article of food, but must be satisfied with stale, cold\nthings, such as boiled rice and boiled pease with a few vegetables,\ntotally abstaining from fish, which they cannot do without on any other\nday. Taking place on the sixth day of the increase of the moon, this\npart of the festival is called _Situl Shasthi_ as enjoining the use of\ncold food.\n\nAs a mark of homage to the goddess, the Hindoos do not read or write on\nthat day. Hence the day is observed as a holiday in public and\nmercantile offices where the clerks are mostly Hindoos. Should any\nnecessity arise they write in red ink, as all the inkstands in the\nhousehold are washed out and placed before the goddess for annual\nconsecration. They are, however, not prevented from attending to secular\nbusiness on this occasion. Unlike the sanguinary character of the\nPoojahs of Doorga and Kali, no bloody sacrifices are offered to this\ngentle goddess, but as regards rude merriment, the one in question does\nnot form an exception to the others. Revelry and unbecoming mirth are\nthe grand characteristics of this as indeed of almost every other Hindoo\nfestival. It is sickening to reflect how indecency and immorality are\nthus unblushingly countenanced under the sacred name of religion.\n\nLoose women celebrate this festival, and keep up dancing and singing all\nnight in a bestial state of intoxication to the utter disgust of all\nsober-minded men. The Moharajah of Burdwan used to expend large sums of\nmoney on this occasion, engaging the best dancing girls of the\nmetropolis and illuminating and ornamenting his palace in a splendid\nstyle, besides giving entertainment to his English and Native friends.\nVast multitudes of people from Calcutta still resort to his palace and\nadmire the profuse festoons of flowers and the yellow appearance of\neverything, indicative of the advent of spring,--a season which,\naccording to popular notion, invites the mind to indulge in licentious\nmirth. It is needless to enumerate farther the many obscenities\npractised in songs and actions on this occasion.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[82] A gift once made to a Brahmin must be continued from year to year\ntill the donor dies; in some cases it is tenable from one generation to\nanother.\n\n\n\n\nXI.\n\nTHE FESTIVAL OF CAKES.\n\n\nOn the annual commemoration of this popular festival in Bengal, which is\nanalogous to the English \"Harvest home,\" the people in general, and the\nagricultural classes in particular, manifest a gleeful appearance,\nindicative of national demonstrations of joy and mirth. It takes place\nin the Bengalee month of _Pous_ or January, following immediately in the\nwake of the English Christmas and New year's day. With the exception of\nthe upper ten thousand, almost all men, women and children alike\nparticipate in the festivities of the season, and for three succeeding\ndays are occupied in rural pastimes and gastronomical enjoyment. The\npopular cry on this occasion, is--\"_Awoynee_, _Bownee_, _teen deen_,\n_pittaey_, _bhat_, _khawnee_,\" \"the _Pous_ or _Makar Sankranti_ is come,\nlet three days be passed in eating cakes and rice,\" accompanied by a\nsupplementary invocation to the goddess of Prosperity (Lukshmee) that\nshe may afford her votaries ample stores so that they may never know\nwant. As the outward manifestation of this internal wish, they tie all\ntheir chests, boxes, beddings, the earthen cooking pots in the kitchen,\nas well as those in the store-house containing their food grains, and in\nfact every movable article in the house, with shreds of straw that they\nmay always remain intact. The origin of this festival is involved in\nobscurity, but tradition says that it sprung from the general desire of\nthe people engaged in agricultural pursuits to celebrate the last day of\n_Pous_, and two succeeding days, in eating what they most relish, cakes\nof all sorts, to their hearts' content, after having harvested and\ngathered their corn and other food grains, which form the main staff of\ntheir life. Whatever may have been the origin of this festival, it is\nevident that it does not owe its existence, like most other Hindoo\nfestivals, to priestcraft. The idea is good and the tendency excellent.\nAfter harvesting and gathering the fruits of their labour, on which\ndepend not only their individual subsistence throughout the year, but\nthe general prosperity of the country by the development of its\nresources, the husbandmen are well entitled to lay aside, for a short\nwhile, the ploughshare, and taking three days' rest, spend them in rural\namusements and festivities amid their domestic circle. All this tends,\nin no small degree, to awaken and revive dormant feelings of love and\nfriendliness by mutual exchange of invitations as well as of good\nfellowship. Their incessant toil in the field during the seven previous\nmonths, their intense anxiety on the score of weather, carefully noting,\nthough not with the scientific precision of the meteorological reporter,\ndeficient and plenteous rainfall, and apprehending the destructive\nOctober gale, when the ears of corn are almost fully developed, their\nconstant watchfulness for the prevention of theft and the destruction of\nthe crops by cattle, their unceasing weeding out of troublesome and\nuseless plants and _cassay_ grass, sometimes wading in marshy swamp or\nmire knee deep, and their incessant anxiety for the due payment of rent\nto the zemindar, or perhaps of interest to the relentless money lender,\nare sources of uneasiness that do not allow them a moment's peace of\nmind. Should they, by way of relaxation, cease to work for three days in\nthe year, they are not to be blamed for laziness or supineness. The\nquestion of a good harvest is of such immense importance to an\nagricultural country like India, that when the god, Ram Chunder, the\nmodel king, visited his subjects in Oude, the first thing he asked them\nwas about the state of the crops, and when the enquiry was favorably\nanswered, his mind was set at rest, and he cheerfully unfolded to them\nthe scheme of his future Government.[83] Physically and practically\nconsidered, temporary cessation from labor is indispensable to recruit\nthe energy of the exhausted frame of body, and promote the normal vigor\nof mind. So in whatever light this national jubilee is regarded,\nsocially, morally or scientifically, it is productive of beneficial\nresults, ultimately contributing to the augmentation of the material\nprosperity of the land.\n\nSome of my countrymen of a fastidious taste look upon this festival as a\npuerile and foolish entertainment, because it possesses no dignified\nfeature to commend it to their attention, but they should consider that\nit is free from the idolatrous abominations and rank obscenity by which\nmost of the Hindoo festivals are characterised, independently of its\nhaving a tendency to promote the innocent mirth and general hilarity of\nthe masses, whose contentment is the best test of a good government and\nof a generous landed aristocracy.\n\nSo popular is this festival amongst the people that the Mussulmans have\na common saying to the effect, that their _Eed_, _Bakrid_ and\n_Shub-i-Barat_--three of their greatest national festivals--are no match\nfor the Hindoo _Pous Sakrad_.\n\nOur children and women in the city, whose minds are so largely tinctured\nwith an instinctive regard for all festivities, share in the general\nexcitement. On this occasion, exchanges of presents of sweetmeats,\ncloths, jaggery, ghee, flour, oranges, cereals, cocoanuts, balls of\nconcentrated milk, vegetables, spices, sugar, almonds, raisins, etc, are\nmade between relatives in order that they may be enabled to solemnise\nthe cake festival with the greatest _eclat_. In respectable families,\nthe women cheerfully take the trouble of making these preparations,\ninstead of trusting them to their female cooks, because male cooks are\nno adepts in the art. So nicely are these cakes made and in such\nvariety, that the late Mr. Cockerell, a highly respected merchant of\nthis City, used every year to get an assortment from his Baboo and\ninvite his friends to partake of them; and notwithstanding the\nproverbial differences of taste, there are few who would not relish\nthem.\n\nThe boys in the many patshalas or primary schools around Calcutta,\nannually keep up this festival in a splendid style. The more advanced\nform themselves into a band of songsters, and, attended by bands of\nmusicians with all the usual accompaniments of flags, staves, etc.,\nproceed in procession from their respective schools to the bank of the\nriver Bhagiruttee, singing rhythmically in a chorus all the way in\npraise of the holy stream, and of her powers of salvation in the present\n_Kali Yuga_, or iron age. When they reach their destination they pour\nforth their songs most vociferously. They afterwards perform the usual\nablutions and return home in the same manner as they set out from the\nPatshala, regarding the performance as an act of great merit.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[83] Indeed, it has become a byword among the Natives in general that\nthe compound word, \"_Ram-Rajya_,\" or the empire of Ram is synonymous\nwith a happy dynasty. There existed peace, union and harmony among the\npeople in the infancy of society. Almost every family had its assigned\nplot of land which they cultivated, and the fruits of which they enjoyed\nwithout the incubus of a rack-renting system, because the virgin soil\nalways afforded an abundant harvest. The wants of the people were few\nand those were easily supplied. In fact there was a complete identity of\ninterests between the rulers and the ruled. The result was universal\ncontentment and happiness. But unhappily the present advanced stage of\nsocial organisation has considerably impaired the relation.\n\n\n\n\nXII.\n\nThe Holi Festival.\n\n\nThe annual return of this festival in honor of the god Krishna, excites\nthe religious feelings and superstitious frenzy of the Hindoos not only\nin Bengal but also in Orissa, Bombay, and in the Upper Provinces of\nIndia. From time immemorial, it has continued to exercise a very great\ninfluence over the minds of the people at large, so much so that what\nthe Holi festival is in the Upper Provinces, the Doorga Poojah is in the\nLower Provinces of Bengal, being by far the most popular and\ndemonstrative in all their leading features. Though originally and\nessentially a Hindoo festival of a religious character, dedicated to the\nworship of a Hindoo god, it has subsequently assumed a jubilant phase,\ndrawing the followers of a different creed to its ranks; hence not a few\nMussulmans in Upper India observe it in a secular sense, quite distinct\nfrom its religious aspect or requirements.\n\nIn Bengal it is called _Dole Jattra_, or the rocking of the image of\nKrishna on its throne. It occurs on the day of the full moon in the\nBengallee month of Falgoon or March, at the vernal equinox,--a season of\nthe year when all the appetites, passions and desires of the people are\nsupposed to be more or less inflamed, and they naturally seek outlets of\ngratification. In the Upper Provinces it is known by the name of _Holi_,\nor festival of scattering _fhag_ or red powder among friends and others.\nOn the previous night the people both here and in the Upper Provinces\nburn amidst music the effigy of an uncouth straw image of a giant named\nMaydhasoor, who caused great disturbance among the gods and goddesses in\ntheir hours of meditation and prayer. To put a stop to this unholy\nmolestation the god Narayan or Krishna destroyed the giant by means of\nhis matchless valor and skill, and thus restored peace in heaven as well\nas on earth. To commemorate this glorious achievement, the image of the\nabove giant is annually burnt on the night previous to the _Holi_\nfestival.\n\nThe religious part of the ceremony, irrespective of its idolatrous\nelement, is performed in accordance with the original rules of the\nHindoo ritual, which are free from all kinds of abominations. But the\ngreat body of the people, lacking the vital principle of a pure and true\nfaith and following the impulse of unrestrained appetites, have\ngradually sunk into the depths of corruption,--the outcome of impure\nimaginations and of a vitiated taste. In Bengal, the observance of this\nfestival is not characterised by anything that is violently opposed to\nthe social amenities of life. Notwithstanding the many-featured phases\nand multitudinous requirements of the Hindoo creed, the peculiarities of\nthis festival are mainly confined to the worship of the household image,\nand the entertainment of the Brahmins and friends. Daubing the bodies of\nthe guests with red powder in an either dry or liquid state, and singing\nsongs descriptive of the sports of Krishna with the milk-maids in the\ngroves of Brindabun, form the constituent elements of the festival in\nBengal. Offerings of rice, fruits and sweetmeats are made to the god,\nand its body is also smeared with red powder by the officiating priest,\nso as to render it one with that of its followers. At the close of the\nceremony, the rite of purification is performed, which restores the\nimage--either a piece of stone or metal--to its normal purity.\n\nIt is a noteworthy fact that in this festival, no _new_ image made of\nclay and straw is either set up or thrown into the sacred stream, as is\ninvariably the case with the other Hindoo gods and goddesses generally\nworshipped by the people of Bengal. Krishna, in whose honor this\nfestival is celebrated, has many forms, one of which generally\nconstitutes the household deity that is worshipped every morning and\nevening by the hereditary priest with all the solemnity of a religious\nservice. A Hindoo who keeps an image of this god is esteemed more in a\nreligious point of view than one who is without it. In the popular\nestimation he escapes many censures to which a godless Hindoo is often\nexposed. Nor is this at all singular. An orthodox Hindoo who offers up\nhis daily prayer to his tutelar deity is at least more consistent in his\nprinciples, which, as Confucius very justly says, means Heaven, than one\nwho is tossed about by a wavering faith in the indistinguishable whirl\nof life.\n\nThe festival of Dole Jattra or Holi in Bengal, commencing on the day of\nthe full moon, varies, however, in its observance as to the day on which\nit is to be held. Some celebrate it on the first, some on the second,\nand some again on the third, fifth, seventh, ninth day of the dark phase\nof the moon. Generally Vaishnaws, or the followers of Krishna, observe\nit, though in some cases, the Saktos,--the followers of Doorga and\nKalli--also celebrate it. No bloody sacrifices are offered on the\noccasion. Apart from the religious merit attributed to the ceremonial,\nit is comparatively a tame and undemonstrative affair in the Lower\nProvinces of Bengal when compared with the sensational excitement with\nwhich it is celebrated in the Upper Provinces. In Orissa too, it is kept\nup with great eclat before the shrine of Juggurnauth and its environs.\nThousands and tens of thousands of pilgrims from a great distance\ncongregate there on this occasion and offer their oblations to the\n\"stumped\" lord of the world. When the inhabitants of Bengal talk of\ntheir most popular festivals, they pronounce almost involuntarily the\n_Dole_ and _Doorgutsub_, but the latter has long since completely\neclipsed the former. Morally, socially and intellectually the\nenlightened Bengallees are assuredly the Athenians of Hindoostan. Their\ngrowing intelligence and refined taste,--the outcome of English\neducation--have imbued them with a healthier ideal of moral excellence\nthan any other section of the Indian population throughout the length\nand breadth of the land (the Parsis of Bombay excepted). It is owing to\nthe influence of this superior moral sense that they do not abandon\nthemselves to the general corruption of manners obtaining in Upper India\nduring the _Holi_ festival.\n\n\"Fools make a mock at sin\" is a scriptural proverb which is especially\napplicable to the inhabitants of the Upper Provinces on the annual\nreturn of this festival. Unlike their brethren in Bengal they pay\ngreater attention to the secular than to the religious part of the\nceremony. A few days before the _Holi_, as if to enkindle the flame of a\nnational demonstration of a sensational character, they return to the\nlow, obscene old ballads which constitute a notable feature of the\nceremonial. Week after week, day after day, and hour after hour, they\npour them out almost as spontaneously as a bird, because they have a\nperverse propensity for the indulgence of impure thoughts, and rude,\nprofane mirth, which is an outrage on common decency and a scandal to a\nrational being. Notwithstanding the vigilance of the Police and the\nstringency of the Penal Code, these ragamuffins stroll along the public\nstreets in bands, dance antics and sing obscene songs with impunity,\nsimply because the major portion of the Native constables come from the\nsame lower strata of society. Of course before a European they dare not\ncommit the same nuisance. Should a luckless female, even old and infirm,\nchance to come in their way, they unblushingly assail her with a volley\nof scurrilous and insulting epithets much too gross to be tolerated by a\nrational being having the smallest modicum of decorum about him. To give\na specimen of the songs, vulgar as they unquestionably are, would be an\nact of unpardonable profanation. Even in the Burra Bazar of Calcutta,\nwhere the Up-country Hindoos mostly reside, excesses and enormities are\ncommitted, even in the full blaze of day, which alike belie reason and\nconscience, and ignore the divine part of humanity. Mirth, music and\nmelody do not form the programme of their amusement, but a feverish\nexcitement, originating in lust and leading to criminal excesses, is the\ncharacteristic of the scene. If a sober-minded man were permitted to\nexamine the Cash Book of a country liquor shop, he would most assuredly\nbe struck with the enormous receipts of the shopkeeper during the\nfestive days on this occasion. Bacchanalianism in all its most\ndetestable forms reigns rampant in almost every home and purlieu\nthroughout the Upper Provinces. Every brothel, every toddykhannah, every\ngrog shop, is crowded with customers from early morning to dewy evening\nand later on. An almost incessant volume of polluted and polluting\noutcries rises to the skies from these dens of sin, smirching and\nvulgarising the brilliant ideals of a holy festival. The endless\nchanting of obscene songs, the discordant notes of the inebriated\nsongsters almost tearing their throats in excessive vociferations, the\nharsh din of music, their frightful gesticulations and contortions of\nthe body, their frantic dance, their dithyrambic fanaticism in which\nevery sense of decorum is lost, their horrid looks rendered tenfold more\nhorrid by reason of their smearing their bodies with red powder, the\npestiferous atmosphere by which they are encompassed, and their reeling\nposture and bestial intoxication, _all_ conspire to make them \"mock at\nsin.\"[84] Nor is this to be wondered at. The lives and examples of the\nHindoo gods have, in a great measure, moulded the character of their\nfollowers: \"Shiva is represented as declaring to Luckhee that he would\npart with the merit of his works for the gratification of a criminal\npassion; Brahma as burning with lust towards his own daughter; Krishna\nas living with the wife of another, murdering a washerman and stealing\nhis clothes, and sending his friend Yoodhisthira to the regions of\ntorment by causing him to utter a falsehood; Indra and Chundra are seen\nas the paramours of the wives of their spiritual guides.\" It is much to\nbe lamented that the authors of the Hindoo mythology have unscrupulously\nheld up the revels of their gods to the imitation of their followers.\n\nIt is but just to observe that the more respectable classes are\nrestrained by a sense of honor from participating with the populace in\nthe vicious pleasures of undisciplined passions. But their implied\napproval of such sensual gratifications tends, in no small degree, to\nfan the flame of superstitious frenzy. If they do not expose themselves\nin the highway, they betray their concupiscence within the confines of\ntheir own dwellings. They substitute opium and bhang (hemp) for\nspirituous liquors, and among the females of the house, some aunt or\nother is the butt of their rude, unseemly satire. Their lusts and want\nof inward discipline, stimulated by a false religion as well as by the\ndemoralized rules of an abnormal conventionalism, have deadened, as it\nwere, their finer sensibilities, and generations must pass away before\nthey are enabled rightly to appreciate their social relations and their\nmoral and religious duties.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[84] When the late Mr. Thomason, the Lieutenant-Governor of the\nNorth-Western Provinces, visited Benares, the far famed city of holy\nshrines and holy bulls, during this festival, he exclaimed in pious\nindignation, \"what disgusting scenes are enacted and frightful crimes\nperpetrated in the name of religion by rational beings capable of purer\nand sublimer enjoyments. Surely the shameless ragamuffins are the fit\nsubjects of a bedlam.\"\n\n\n\n\nXIII.\n\nCASTE.\n\n\nThe distinction of caste is woven into the very texture of Hindoo\nsociety. In whatever light it is considered, religiously, morally, or\nsocially, it must be admitted that this abnormal system is calculated to\nperpetuate the ignorance and degradation of the race among which it\nprevails. It is useless to enquire when and by whom it was founded. The\nHindoo Shastras do not agree as to this point, but it is obvious to\nconclude that it must have originated in a dark age when a proud and\nselfish priesthood, in the exercise of its sacerdotal functions, imposed\non the people this galling yoke of religious and social servitude. Even\nthe rulers of the land were not exempt from its baneful influence. They\nwere as much subject to the prescribed rules of their order as the\ncommon people. Calculating on the implicit and unquestioning obedience\nof men to their authoritative injunctions, a scheming hierarchy\nestablished a universal system, the demoralizing effects of which are\nperhaps without a parallel in the annals of human society. The capacity\nand culture of man's intellect was shamefully under-estimated when it\nwas expected that such an artificial order, so preposterously unsuited\nto the interests of humanity and to the advancement of civilization,\nshould for ever continue to influence the life and destiny of unborn\ngenerations.\n\n\"The distinctions of rank in Europe\" says Mr. Ward, \"are founded upon\ncivic merit or learning, and answer very important ends in the social\nunion; but this system commences with an act of the most consummate\ninjustice that was ever perpetrated; binds in chains of adamant\nnine-tenths of the people, debars them for ever from all access to a\nhigher state, whatever their merits may be; puts a lock upon the whole\nintellect of three of the four orders, and branding their very birth\nwith infamy, and rivetting their chains for ever, says to millions and\nmillions of mankind,--'you proceeded from the feet of Brahma, you were\ncreated for servitude.'\"\n\nHistory furnishes no parallel to such an audacious declaration, made in\nutter defiance of the fundamental principles of humanity. The onward\nmarch of intellect can never be checked, even when fenced in by the\nstrongest of artificial barriers. Still will that \"grey spirit\" rise and\nchase away the errors which age has accumulated and superstition\ncherished.\n\n  \"That grey spirit yearning in desire\n    To follow knowledge, like a sinking star,\n    Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.\"\n\nThe distinction of caste, it is obvious, was originally instituted to\nsecure to the hierarchy all the superior advantages of a privileged\nclass, and to condemn all other orders to follow menial occupations such\nas the trades of the country could furnish. They kept the key of\nknowledge in their own hands, and thus exercised a domineering influence\nover the mass of the people, imagining that their exclusive privileges\nshould have endless duration. This power in their hands was \"either a\ntreasury chest or a rod of iron.\" The mind recoils from contemplating\nwhat would have been the state of the country, the extent of her\nhopelessness and helplessness, if the light of European knowledge had\nnot dawned and penetrated the Hindoo mind, and thereby introduced a\nhealthier state of things. Eighty years back this system was at the\nzenith of its splendour; men clung to it with all the tenacity of a\nnatural institution, and proscribed those who ventured to break through\nits fetters. It was a terrible thing then to depart from the established\norder of social union; the least whisper of a deviation and the\nslightest violation of its rules were visited with social persecution\nof the worst type. I cannot do better than give a few instances,\nillustrating the nature of the punishments to which a Hindoo was\nsubjected in that period of terror, when caste-mania raged most\nfuriously.\n\n\"After the establishment of the English power in Bengal, the caste of a\nBrahmin of Calcutta was destroyed by a European who forced into his\nmouth flesh, spirits, &c. After remaining three years an outcast, great\nefforts were made, at an expense of eighty thousand rupees, to restore\nhim to the pale of his caste, but in vain, as many Brahmins of the same\norder refused to associate with him as one of their own. After this, an\nexpense of two lacks of Rupees more was incurred, when he was\nre-admitted to the privileges of his caste. About the year 1802, a\nperson in Calcutta expended in feasting and presents to Brahmins fifty\nthousand Rupees to be re-admitted into the ring of his caste from which\nhe had been excluded for eating with a Brahmin of the _Peeralee_ caste.\nNot long after this, two _Peeralee_ Brahmins of Calcutta made an effort\nto wipe out the opprobrium of _Peeralism_, but were disappointed, though\nthey had expended a very large sum of money.\n\n\"Ghunusyamu, a Brahmin, about thirty-five years ago, went to England and\nwas excommunicated. Gocool, another Brahmin, about the same time went to\nMadras, and was renounced by his relatives; but after incurring some\nexpense in feasting Brahmins, he was received back. In the year 1808, a\nblacksmith of Serampore returned from Madras and was disowned by his\nfellow caste men, but after expending two thousand Rupees amongst the\nBrahmins, he was restored to his family and friends. In the same year\nthe mother of Kali Prosaud Ghose, a rich _Kayusto_ of Benares, who had\nlost caste by intercourse with Mussulmans and was called a _Peeralee_,\ndied. Kali Prosaud was much concerned on account of the rites required\nto be performed in honor of the manes of his deceased parent, but no\nBrahmin would officiate at the ceremony; after much entreaty and\npromise of rewards, he prevailed at last upon eleven Brahmins to perform\nthe necessary ceremonies at night. A person who had a dispute with these\nBrahmins informed against them, and they were immediately abandoned by\ntheir friends. After waiting several days in vain, hoping that his\nfriends would relent, one of these Brahmins, tying himself to a jar of\nwater, drowned himself in the Ganges. Some years ago, Ram, a Brahmin of\nTribany, having, by mistake, married his son to a _Peeralee_ girl, and\nbeing abandoned by his friends, died of a broken heart. In the year\n1803, Shibu Ghose, a _Kayusto_, married a _Peeralee_ girl, and was not\nrestored to his caste till after seven years, and after he had expended\nseven thousand Rupees for the expiation of his offence. About the same\nperiod, a Brahmin woman of Velupookuria, having been defloured, and in\nconsequence outcasted, put an end to her existence by voluntary\nstarvation. In the village of Buj Buj, some years ago, a young man who\nhad lost his caste through the criminal intrigues of his mother, a\nwidow, in a state of frenzy poisoned himself, and his two surviving\nbrothers abandoned the country. Goorooprasaud, a Brahmin of Churna, in\nBurdwan, not many years ago, through fear of losing caste, in\nconsequence of the infidelity of his wife, left his home and died of\ngrief at Benares. About the year 1800, a Brahmin lady of Santipore\nmurdered her illegitimate child, to prevent discovery and loss of caste.\nIn the year 1807, a Brahmin of Tribany murdered his wife by strangling\nher to avert loss of caste through her criminal intrigues. About the\nyear 1790, Kalidass, a Brahmin, who had been inveigled into marrying a\nwasherman's daughter, was obliged to flee the country to Benares, where\nbeing discovered, he sold all his property and fled, and his wife became\na maniac. In the time of Rajah Krishna Chunder Roy, a Brahmin of\nSantipore was found to have a criminal intrigue with the daughter of a\nshoemaker: the Rajah forbade the barber of the village to shave the\nfamily or the washerman to wash for them: in this distress they applied\nto the Rajah and afterwards to the Nawab for restoration, but in vain.\nAfter having been despoiled of their resources by the false promises of\npretended friends, the Rajah relented and removed the ban, but the\nfamily have not obtained to this day their pristine position.[85]\n\n\"Numbers of outcasts abandon their homes and wander about till death.\nMany other instances might be given in which the fear of losing caste\nhad led to the perpetration of the most shocking murders, which in this\ncountry are easily concealed, and thousands of children are murdered in\nthe womb, to prevent discovery and the consequent loss of caste,\nparticularly in the houses of the Koolin Brahmins.\"\n\nThe inveterate tenacity with which the rites and privileges of caste are\nclung to is a prominent feature of the Hindoo character, showing, like\nmany other facts, that as a nation--the Rajpoots excepted--they fear the\nsword-blade, but can meet death with calmness and fortitude when they\napprehend any danger to the purity of caste. In the year 1777, a\nMussulman nobleman forcibly seized the daughters of three Brahmins. They\ncomplained to the judge of the district, but obtaining no redress, they\ncommitted suicide by poison under the nose of the unrighteous judge.\n\"When, about a century since, a body of sepoys were being brought from\nMadras to Calcutta, the provisions ran short, till at last the only food\nconsisted of salted beef and pork. Though a few submitted to the\nnecessity of circumstances and defiled themselves, many preferred a\nlanguishing death by famine to a life polluted by tasting forbidden\nfood. The Mussulman Governors often took advantage of this prejudice,\nwhen their exchequers were empty. The Hindoo would submit to the most\nexcruciating tortures rather than disclose his hoard, but the moment his\nreligious purity was threatened, he complied with any demand, if the sum\nasked for was within his means; if not, the man being linked to his\ncaste fellows, the latter raised the required sum by subscription.\"\n\nIn a moral point of view, the effects of this distinction are equally\nmischievous. Far from promoting a spirit of benevolence and good\nfellowship between man and man, it has a natural tendency to engender\nhostile feelings, which cannot fail to militate against the best\ninterests of humanity. Should a Hindoo of inferior caste happen to touch\none of superior caste, while the latter is cooking or eating, he throws\naway everything as defiled. Even in cases of extreme sickness, the one\nwill seldom condescend to drink water out of the hands of the other.\nThere are also instances on record in which two Hindoos of the same\ncaste refuse to eat together, simply because they belong to two several\n_dalls_ or parties; in the villages especially this partisan feeling is\nsometimes carried to so great a length that no party will scruple to\nblast the fair fame of their antagonists by scandalous accusations and\nuncalled-for slanders. Thousands and thousands of Rupees are spent in\nsecuring the favors or alliance of the _Koolins_--the great arbiters of\ncaste,--and he who by the power of his purse can enlist on his side a\nlarger number of these pampered _Koolins_, generally takes away the\npalm. The hard struggle for the attainment of this hollow, ephemeral\ndistinction, instead of stimulating any noble desire or laudable\nambition, almost invariably terminates in fostering an antagonistic\nspirit, which is decidedly opposed to the laws of good fellowship and\nthe general brotherhood of mankind. Genuine charity can never exist in\nsuch an unexpansive state of society, and mutual love is torn in\nshreds. If the original founder of the system had calmly and soberly\nconsidered, apart from selfish motives, a tithe of the evils which the\ncaste system was calculated to inflict on society, he would, I make no\ndoubt, have paused before imposing on Hindoo society the fetters of\ncaste servitude.\n\nIt has been urged by the advocates of the system that it is designed to\nconfer a great boon on society by confining each trade or occupation to\none particular class, and thereby securing perfection in that line; but\nthe argument is as fallacious as the result is disappointing. Experience\nand observation sufficiently prove that the Hindoo artisans use almost\nthe same tools and implements which their predecessors used centuries\nago. They work with the same loom and spindle, the same plough, the same\nspade, the same scythe, the same threshing machine, and the same\neverything that were in vogue at the time of _Vicramadyatta_ in the\nsixteenth century, and if any improvement has been effected, it is owing\nto the superior skill of the foreigners. It is, however, creditable to\nthe native artisans to say that they evince a great aptitude for\nlearning and imitating what they see. Native carpenters, shoemakers,\ntailors, engravers, lithographers, printers, gold and silver-smiths,\n&c., now-a-days turn out articles which in point of workmanship are not\nvery much inferior to those imported from Europe. Of course they are\nmaterially indebted to Europeans for this improvement.\n\nThe circumstances which cause the loss of caste are the following: The\nabandonment of the Hindoo religion, journey to foreign countries which\ninvolves the eating of forbidden food, the eating of food cooked by one\nof inferior caste or of food forbidden to the Hindoos, female unchastity\nin a family, the cohabiting with women of a lower caste, or with those\nof foreign nations and the non-performance of religious rites\nprescribed in the Shastras.[86] There are other circumstances which\ndetract from the dignity of a family, but they are of secondary\nimportance. These causes were in full operation some seventy or eighty\nyears ago. The unanimous voice of the neighbours denounced a Hindu as an\noutcast if he were found guilty of any of the above transgressions.\nPurity of caste was then watched with greater solicitude than purity of\nconscience and character. The magnates of the land spared neither\nexpense nor pains to preserve inviolate the outward purity of their\ncaste. The popular shastras of the Hindoos are certainly very convenient\nand accommodating in every respect; the sins of a life-time, nay of ten\nlives, may be washed away by an ablution in the sacred stream of the\nGanges on the occasion of certain _holy days_ called _yogas_; so\nrequisite provision is made in them for the atonement of the loss of\ncaste by performing certain religious rites and feasting, and making\nsuitable presents to Brahmins in money and kind. But it has always been\na matter of wonder to many that the _Peeralees_ or the Tagores of\nCalcutta, alike noted for their wealth and liberality, have not as yet\nbeen able to regain their caste or their original position in Hindu\nsociety. The obvious reason appears to be that they are not desirous of\na restoration by submitting to any kind of humiliating atonement. They\nhave shown their wisdom in pursuing such an independent and manly\ncourse. The history of _Peeralee_ is thus given by Mr. Ward: \"A Nabob of\nthe name of _Peeralee_ is charged with having destroyed the rank of many\nHindus, Brahmins and others; and from these persons have descended a\nvery considerable number of families scattered over the country, who\nhave been branded with the name of their oppressor. These persons\npractise all the ceremonies of the Hindu religion, but are carefully\navoided by other Hindus as outcasts. It is supposed that not less than\nfifty families live in Calcutta, who employ Brahmin priests to perform\nthe ceremonies of the Hindu religion for them. It is said that Rajah\nKrishna Chunder Roy was promised five lacks of Rupees by a _Peeralee_,\nif he would only honor him with a visit of a few moments, but he\nrefused.\" Such was the virulence with which the caste mania raged when\nHindu bigotry had reached its culminating point. Rajah Krishna Chunder\nRoy of Kishnaghur, about 100 miles north of Calcutta, was otherwise\nreputed to have been a very generous-hearted man, a great patron of\nlearning and learned men, but he was so blindly led away by the impulse\nof bigotry that he unhesitatingly declined to assist a brother\ncountryman of his who had been subjected to social ostracism through\nmere accident. But the Rajah's grandson, if I am rightly informed, when\nhe had occasion to come down to Calcutta a few years back,\nunscrupulously took up his quarters at Spence's Hotel, and freely\nenjoyed the company of his European friends, indicating a healthy change\nin the social economy of the people, the result solely of intellectual\nexpansion, and of the inauguration of a better era through the rapid\ndiffusion of western knowledge.[87]\n\nThe _Peeralee_ or the Tagore family of Calcutta, be it recorded to their\nhonor, have long been eminently distinguished by their liberality, manly\nindependence, enlightened principles and enterprising spirit. Some of\nthe members of this family occupy the foremost rank amongst the friends\nof native improvement. The late Baboo Dwarkey Nath Tagore set a noble\nexample to his countrymen by his disinterested exertions in the cause of\nnative education and public charities. Several of his European friends\nwere under deep obligations to him for his unbounded liberality under\npeculiarly embarrassed circumstances;[88] the length of his purse was\nequalled by the breadth of his views. His object in proceeding to\nEngland was mainly to extend his knowledge by a closer and more familiar\nintercourse with Europeans. He was the right hand of the illustrious\nHindoo reformer, the late Raja Rammohun Roy. His magnanimous mind, his\nenlightened views, his engaging manners, his amiable qualities both in\npublic and private life, and his indomitable zeal in endeavouring to\nelevate his country in the scale of civilization, gave him an influence\nin English society never before or after enjoyed by any Hindoo\ngentleman. His worthy relative and coadjutor, the late Baboo Prosono\nCoomar Tagore, C. S. I., who has left a princely fortune, was no less\ndistinguished for his enlarged views and liberal sentiments. His rich\nendowment of the Tagore Law Lecturship in connection with the Calcutta\nUniversity has substantially established his claim on the gratitude of\nhis countrymen. It was he that first started the native English Paper\ncalled the \"Reformer,\" which not only opened the eyes of the Hindoos to\nthe errors of the antiquated system under which they lived, but diffused\na healthy taste for the cultivation of English literature among the\nrising generation of his countrymen, and thereby paved the way for the\ndevelopment of advanced thought and intelligent opinion on the practical\nenunciation and appreciation of which mainly depends the future\nadvancement of the nation. The late Moha Rajah Ramanauth Tagore, C. S.\nI., another member of the Tagore family, was deservedly esteemed for his\nliberal sentiments, his high sense of honor, his scrupulous fidelity and\nhis unblemished character. Baboo Debendernath Tagore, the son of the\nlate Baboo Dwarkeynauth Tagore, bears a highly exemplary character. His\nuncompromising straightforwardness, his sincerity and piety, his high\nintegrity, his devotedness to the cause of religion, his unassuming\nhabits, the suavity of his disposition, and his utter contempt for\nworldly enjoyments, have shed an unfading lustre around his name. Well\nmay India be proud of such a worthy son. Moha Raja Jotendermohun Tagore,\nC. S. I., Raja Sourendermohun Tagore, his brother, and Baboo\nGynendermohun Tagore, the son of the late Baboo Prosonocoomar Tagore,\nalso belong to this family: all of them bear a very high character for\nintelligence, integrity, and sound moral principles.\n\nAll these distinguished individuals are descended from _Peeralee_\nancestors. Few have more deservedly merited the respect and esteem of\ntheir countrymen, or better vindicated their rightful claim to the\nhonors bestowed on some of them. If they are denounced as outcasts, such\noutcasts are the ornaments of the country. If they are far in the rear\nof caste they are assuredly far in the van of intelligence, ability,\nmental activity, refinement and honesty. If to be a _Peeralee_ were an\nindelible stigma, it is certainly a glory to the whole nation that such\na noble and stainless character as Baboo Debendernauth Tagore is a\nmember of the same family. We would search in vain among the countless\nmyriads of India for such a meek, spotless, but bright and glorious\nmodel.\n\nIt is, moreever, to the _Peeralee_ or Tagore family that the enlightened\nHindoo community of Calcutta is principally indebted for its refined\ntaste and elevated ideas. May they continue to shed their benign\ninfluence not only on the rising but unborn generations of their\ncountrymen, and carry on the work of reformation, not with the\nimpetuosity of rash innovators, but with the cool deliberation of\nreflecting minds.\n\nThe rules of caste are not now strictly observed, and their observance\nis scarcely compatible with the spirit of the age, and in one sense we\nhave scarcely a Hindoo in Bengal, especially amongst those who live in\nthe Presidency town and the district towns.\n\nThe distinction of caste is more honored in the breach than in the\nobservance of it.[89] As English schools and colleges are multiplying in\nevery nook and corner of the empire, more liberal ideas and principles\nare being imbibed by the Hindoo youths, which bid fair in process of\ntime to exercise a regenerating influence on the habits of the people.\nIdolatry, and its necessary concomitant, priestcraft, is fast losing its\nhold on their minds; a new phase of life indicates the near approach of\nan improved order of things; ideas which had for ages been pent up in\nthe dark, dreary cell of ignorance now find a free outlet, and the\nrecipients of knowledge breathe a purer atmosphere, clear of the hazy\nmists that had hitherto clouded their intellect. To a philanthropist\nsuch a forecast is in the highest degree encouraging. The distinction of\ncaste has also received a fatal blow by the frequent visits of young and\naspiring native gentlemen to England for the purpose of completing their\neducation there. This growing desire among the rising generation should\nbe encouraged as it has an excellent tendency to promote the moral and\nintellectual improvement of the nation.\n\nThe late Baboo Ramdoolal Dey,[90] of Calcutta, who was a self-made man\nand a millionaire, was a Dullaputty or head of a party. When the\nsubject of caste was discussed, he emphatically said, that \"the caste\nwas in his iron chest,\" the meaning of which was that money has the\npower of restoring caste.\n\nThe late Baboo Ram Gopal Ghose, a distinguished merchant and reformer of\nthis City, had a country residence at Bagati, near Tribani, in the\nHooghly district, about 100 miles east of Calcutta. He had a mother who\nwas, as might be expected, a superstitious old lady. Baboo Ram Gopal on\nprinciple never wounded her feelings by interfering with her religious\nbelief. On the occasion of the Doorga Poojah at his country house, his\nmother as usual directed the servants to distribute the _noybidhi_, or\nofferings, consisting of rice, fruits and sweetmeats, among the Brahmins\nof the neighbourhood; but they all, to a man, refused to accept the\nsame, on the ground that Ram Gopal was not a _Hindoo_, which was\ntantamount to declaring that he had no faith in Hindooism, and was an\noutcast from Hindooism. On seeing the offerings brought back, his\nmother's lamentations knew no bounds, because the refusal of the\nBrahmins to accept the offerings was a dishonor, and involved the\nquestion of the loss of caste. Apprehending the dreadful consequences of\nsuch a refusal, especially in a village where bigotry reigned supreme,\nthe old lady became quite disconsolate. Ram Gopal, who with strong\ncommon sense combined the benefit of a liberal English education,\nthought of the following expedient: He at once suggested that every\n_noybidhi_ (offering) should be accompanied by a sum of five Rupees. The\ntemptation was too great to be resisted, the very Brahmins who, two\nhours back, openly refused to take the offerings, now came running in\nnumbers to Ram Gopal's house for their share, and regularly scrambled\nfor the thing. In fact, he had more demands than he could meet. Thus a\nfew Rupees had the marvellous effect of turning a _Sahib_ into a pure\nHindoo, fully illustrating the truth of Ramdoolal Dey's saying, that\n\"Caste was in his iron chest.\" Examples of this nature may be multiplied\nto any extent, but they are not necessary. Thus we see the decadence of\nthis artificial system is inevitable, as indeed of every other unhealthy\ninstitution opposed to the best interests of humanity.\n\nI cannot close this chapter without drawing the attention of my readers\nto the gross inconsistency of the conduct of the caste apologists.\nThousands and tens of thousands of the most orthodox Hindoos daily\nviolate the rules of caste by using the _shidho chall_, (rice produced\nfrom boiled paddy) which is often prepared by Mussulmans and other low\ncaste husbandmen, whose very touch is pollution to the food of the\nHindoo. It is a notorious fact that nine-tenths of the Hindoos of\nBengal, including the Brahmin class, are in the habit of eating _shidho\nchall_, which is the prime staff of their lives, simply because the\nother kind of rice, _atab chall_(rice produced from sun-dried paddy),\ncontains too much starch or nutritive property and is difficult of\ndigestion by _bhayto_ or rice-fed Bengallees who are, with a few\nexceptions, constitutionally weak from a variety of causes enumerated\nbefore. In the North-West Provinces, people never use _shidho_ rice\nowing to its being boiled in an unhusked state.\n\nThe Hindoos of our day often consume sugar refined with the dust of\ncharcoal bones. The universal use of _shidho_ rice and sweetmeats which\ncontain refined sugar leads the Hindoos to break the rules of caste\nalmost every hour of their lives. Besides these two chief articles of\nfood, there are several other things made by Mussulmans, such as\nrose-water, _kaywra arauk_, and the like, the general use of which is a\ndirect violation of the rules of caste. A Hindoo female, when she\nbecomes a widow at an advanced period of life, sometimes takes to\n_atab_ rice because it is not produced from boiled paddy which makes it\nimpure, but from sun-dried paddy, and here the members of the Tagore\nfamily are more strict in their _regime_ than any other class of Hindoos\nin Bengal. There are, however, yet a few orthodox Hindoos, who, though\nthey eat _shidho_ rice, nevertheless abstain from using bazar-made\nsweetmeats and Municipal pipe water because the engines of the latter\nare said to be greased and worked by Mussulman and Christian hands. Such\nmen make their own sweetmeats at home with Benares sugar and drink\nGanges water, but the younger members of their family, if not without\ntheir approval at least with their partial cognisance, daily make the\ngreatest inroads on this institution without having the moral courage to\navow their acts. They eat and drink in the European fashion, and\npreserve their castes intact by a positive and emphatic disclaimer. So\nmuch for the consistency of their character. When the orthodox heads of\nHindoo families are gathered unto their fathers, the key-note of the\npresent or rising generation will be--\"perish caste with all its\nmonstrous evils.\"\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[85] Rajah Kissen Chunder Roy, in the latter end of the 18th century,\nused to restore persons and families who had forfeited their caste by\ntheir laches by recovering from them a heavy fine for which there used\nto be much higgling. This fine was in addition to the expenses\nincidental to the ceremony of _Prayischittra_. Many heads of _Dalls_ or\nparties of our day follow the same practice.\n\n[86] The non-performance of religious rites does not now, however,\nentail forfeiture of caste. Hindu society is getting lax in our days.\n\n[87] I am inclined to believe that what the late Nuddea Raja did was his\nindividual act; as the head of the Hindus of Bengal, the Rajah of Nuddea\nwould strictly follow the practices of his great ancestor even to this\nday.\n\n[88] To one friend alone he gave two lacs of Rupees without any\nsecurity, showing a degree of magnanimity seldom to be met with among\nthe millionaires of the present day.\n\n[89] The young members of a family have no hesitation in partaking of\nfood cooked by Mussulmans and forbidden in the Hindoo Shasters. On\nholidays or on special occasions, they send orders to the \"Great Eastern\nHotel,\" and get supplies of English delicacies such as they have a\nliking for. It is a well-known fact that almost every rich family in\nCalcutta and its suburbs (the orthodox members excepted) recognised as\nthe head of the Hindoo community, patronise the English Hotel-keepers.\nMr. D. Wilson, the famous purveyor in Government Place, seeing the great\nrush of native gentlemen into his shop on a Christmas eve, was said to\nhave remarked that the Baboos were amongst his best customers. The great\npurveyor was right, because the Baboos give large orders and pay\nregularly for fear of exposure. Such of them as are placed in mediocre\ncircumstances arrange with their Mussulman syces and get fowl curry or\nroast as often as they choose. There are indeed a few honorable\nexceptions, who on principle do not encourage the English style of\neating and drinking. A very little reflection will convince any one that\nthe English mode of living is ill suited to the Natives. It not only\nleads a man into extravagance, but what is more reprehensible, begets a\nhabit of drinking, which, I need hardly say, has been the ruin of many a\npromising young Baboo.\n\n[90] This gentleman was a Banian to several American and English firms,\nwhich used to deal largely in cow and other hides. From religious\nscruples he refused to accept the usual commission on such articles by\nwhich he might have obtained at least forty thousand Rupees per annum.\nIn these days no Baboo declines to take the usual commission, but on the\ncontrary, many are engaged in the trade, which is a sacrilegious act in\nthe eye of the Hindoo Shaster.\n\n\n\n\nXIV.\n\nA BRAHMIN.\n\n\nA Brahmin of the present iron age is quite a different ecclesiastic from\nwhat he was in the past golden age. He is a metamorphosed being.\nBelieving in the doctrine of metempsychosis, he claims to have descended\nfrom the mouth of the Supreme Brahma, the Creator according to the\nHindoo triad. In the lapse of time, his physical organisation, his\ntraditional reputation as a saint and sage, his thorough devotion to his\nreligious duties, his mental abstraction, his logical acumen, the purity\nof his character, his habitude and mode of living, have all undergone a\nradical change, unequivocally indicating the gradual declension of\ncorporeal strength, of intellectual vigor, as well as of moral worth. In\nformer times he was popularly regarded as the visible embodiment of the\nCreator, and the delegated exponent of all knowledge, revealed or\nacquired. The old and venerable Munis and Rishis, and their\nphilosophical dissertations, their theological controversies and their\nreligious and ethical disquisitions, evoked the admiration of the world\nin the dark ages before the Christian era. Almost all of them lived in a\nstate of asceticism, and devoted their lives to religious contemplation,\nrenouncing all the pleasures, passions and desires of the mundane world.\nThe longevity of their lives in their sequestered retreat, the perfect\npurity of their manners, the simplicity of their habits, and their\nelevated conception of the immutable attributes of God, inspired the\npeople with a profound reverence for their precepts and principles. The\nprince and the peasant alike paid their homage to the sacerdotal class,\nwhose doctrines had, in the primitive state of society, the authority of\nreligion and law.\n\nThe power of the Brahmins penetrated every class of the people, and by\nway of eminence they called themselves _Dvija_, _i. e._, the regenerated\nor the twice born--a term which should only be applied to the really\ninspired sons of God. Since the promulgation of the Institutes of Manu\nthey obtained that prominent rank among the Hindoos which they have\nretained unimpaired amidst all dynastic changes. Keeping the key of all\nknowledge in their exclusive custody, their functions were originally\nconfined to the performance of religious ceremonies and the promulgation\nof laws. In all the affairs of the state or religion, the fiat of their\nordinances had all the weight of a sacred command. Even the order of a\nmighty potentate was held in subordination to their injunctions. They\nwere enjoined to worship their guardian deity three times a day, and\nwere strictly prohibited from engaging in any secular occupation. They\npractised all manner of austerities tending to beget a contempt for all\nworldly enjoyments, and paved the way by religious meditation for\nultimate absorption into the divine essence,--an ideal of the sublimity\nof which we can have no conception in the present degenerate age.\n\nThe complete monopoly of religious and legal knowledge which the\nBrahmins enjoyed for a very considerable period after the first dawn of\nlearning in the East anterior to the Christian era, enabled them to put\nforth their very great influence upon the spiritual and temporal\nconcerns of the three other orders of the Hindoo population, who\nimplicitly accorded to them all the valuable rights of a privileged\nclass, superior to all earthly power whatsoever. It has been expressly\ndeclared in the Institutes of Manu that Hindoo Law was a direct\nemanation from God. \"That Immutable Power,\" says Manu, \"having enacted\nthis Code of Laws, himself taught it fully to me in the beginning;\nafterwards I taught Marichi and the nine other holy sages.\" It is\nbelieved that in the tenth century, B. C. \"the complete fusion of\nHindoo law and religion,\" was effected, and that both were administered\nby the Brahmins, until some mighty kings arose in Rajpootana, who\ncurtailing their supreme influence reduced them to a secondary position.\nThenceforward their ascendency gradually began to decline, till at\nlength through succeeding generations it dwindled into comparative\ninsignificance.[91] In process of time, the four grand original classes\nslowly multiplied, which is not to be wondered at in a great community\nsplit into divisions and subdivisions, separated from each other by\ndifferent creeds, manners, customs and modes of life. These\nramifications necessarily involved diversities of religious, moral and\nlegal opinions and doctrines more or less fatal to the unquestioned\nauthority of the Brahmins, who seeing in the progress and revolution of\nsociety the inevitable decay of their hitherto undisputed influence,\nabandoned the traditional and prescribed path of religious life and\nbetook themselves to secular pursuit of gain for their subsistence. The\nnecessary consequence now is that in almost every sphere of life, in\nevery profession or calling, the Brahmins of the present day are\nextensively engaged. And their cupidity is so great, that every\nprinciple of law and morality is shamefully compromised in their\ndealings with mankind. A Brahmin is no longer typical of either\nreligious purity or moral excellence. His profound erudition, his\nlogical subtlety in spinning into niceties the most commonplace\ndistinctions, his spirit of deep research and his illimitable power of\npolemical discussion, have all forsaken him, and from an inspired priest\nhe has degenerated into a mercenary _purohit_. He no longer wears on his\nforehead the frontlet of righteousness, his whole heart, his whole soul\nis impregnated with corruption. In a fervent spirit, he no longer says\nto his followers--\"let us meditate on the adorable light of the Divine\nRuler; may it guide our intellects.\" His sacred _poita_ (Brahminical\nthread) his divine _gayutree_ (prayer) his holy _basil_ (bead roll), his\nthree daily services with the sacred water of the Ganges, no longer\ninspire the minds of his votaries with awe, obedience and homage. From\nthe worship of the only Living and True God he has descended to the\nworship of 330 millions of gods and of goddesses. Human numeration reels\nat the list. The individuality of the godhead is lost in the never\nending cycles of deified objects, animate and inanimate. We no longer\nrecognise in the Brahminical character and life an unsullied image of\ngodlike purity, holiness and sublimity. His ministrations no longer fill\nus with joyful and exhilarating hopes which extend beyond the grave and\npromise to lead us to the safe anchorage of everlasting bliss. They no\nlonger stir up in our breasts during each hour of life's waning lustre\n\"a sublimer faith, a brighter prospect, a kinder sympathy, a gentler\nresignation.\" I ask every Hindoo to look into his heart honestly and\nanswer frankly whether a Brahmin of the present day is a true\nembodiment, a glorious display, a veritable representative of Brahma,\nthe Creator. Has he not long since sacrificed his traditional pure faith\non the altar of selfishness and concupiscence and committed a deliberate\nsuicide of his moral and spiritual faculty? We blush to answer the\nquestion in the affirmative.\n\nI now purpose to give a short account of the ceremonies connected with\nthe investiture of the _poita_, the sacred thread of a Brahmin, on the\nstrength of which he assumes the highest ecclesiastical honors and\nprivileges. According to the Hindoo almanac, an auspicious day is fixed\nfor this important ceremonial, which opens a new chapter in the life of\na Brahmin especially intended to ensure him all the rare benefits of a\nfull-blown _Dwija_, or the twice-born. In celebrating the rite,\nparticular regard is had to the state of the weather; should any\natmospheric disturbance occur, the ceremony is postponed to the next\nclear day. The age assigned for the investiture is between nine and\nfifteen years. The occasion is accompanied in many cases by the\npreparation of _ananunda naru_, a kind of sweetmeat made of powdered\nrice, treacle, cocoanut and gingelly seeds rolled up into small round\nballs and fried in mustard oil. This particular sort of Hindoo\nconfectionery, evidently a relic of primitive preparations, is\nmanufactured on all occasions indicative of domestic rejoicing, hence\nthe significance of the name given above. Before the appointed day, the\nboy is enjoined to abstain from the use of fish and oil, and on the\nmorning of the ceremony, having been shaved, he is made to bathe, and\nput on red clothes, and when the rite of investiture commences wears a\nconical shaped tinsel hat, while the priest reads certain incantations\nand worships Narayan or Vishnoo, represented by a small round stone\ncalled _Saligram Sulu_, the ordinary household god of all Hindoos. A\npiece of cloth is held over his head, that he may not see or be seen by\nany of the non Brahminical caste. He then assumes the _dunda_, or the\nstaff of an ascetical mendicant, which is represented by the branch of a\n_vilwa_ tree held in his right hand, at the top of which is tied a knot\nwith a bit of dyed cloth. An initiatory _poita_ made of twisted _khoosh_\ngrass, to which is fastened a piece of deer's skin, is next placed over\nthe boy's left shoulder during the repetition of the prescribed\nincantations. The father then repeats to his son, in a low voice, lest a\nSoodra should hear, the sacred _gayutree_ three times, which he tries\nhis best to commit to memory. The _khoosh_ grass _poita_ is here\nremoved, and a real thread _poita_ spun by Brahmin women[92] which he\nis to wear ever afterwards, is substituted in its place. The boy now\nputs on his shoes and holds an umbrella in his hand while the priest\nreads and the father repeats the usual incantations, tending to awaken\nin the boy a sense of the grave responsibility he assumes. Thus dressed\nas a _Brahmacharee_ (a religious mendicant), with a staff upon his\nshoulder and a beggar's wallet hanging by his side, he goes to his\nmother, father and other relatives and begs alms, repeating at the same\ntime a certain word in Sanskrit. They give him each a small quantity of\nrice, a few _poitas_ and a few Rupees, amounting in some cases to two or\nthree hundred. The boy then squats down while the father offers a burnt\nsacrifice and repeats the customary incantations. After the performance\nof these ceremonies, the boy in his _Brahmacharee_ attire suddenly rises\nup in a fit of pretended ecstacy and declares before the company that he\nis determined in future to lead the life of a religious mendicant. The\nannouncement of this resolution instantly evokes the sympathy of the\nfather, mother and other relatives, and they all persuade him to change\nhis mind and adopt a secular life, citing instances that that life is\nfavourable to the cultivation and growth of domestic and social\naffections as well as religious principles of the highest order. The\nholy Shastra expressly inculcates that a clean heart and a righteous\nspirit make men happy even amid the sorrows of earth, and that the\nsackcloth of mendicancy is not essential to righteousness if we\nearnestly and sincerely ask God to give us His true riches. Thus\nadmonished, he with apparent reluctance abandons his pre-concerted\ndesign, which is a mere sham, and assumes the _role_ of secularism.\nCertain formulas are now repeated, after which the boy leaves his\n_vilwa_ staff, and takes in hand a thin Bamboo staff, which he throws\nover his shoulder. Other ritualistic rites are then performed, at the\nclose of which the priest receives his fee for the trouble and departs\nhome with the offerings. The boy next walks into a room, a woman pouring\nout water as he goes. He is then taught to commit to memory his daily\nservice, called _sundhya_, after the repetition of which he eats the\n_charu_ made of milk, sugar and rice boiled together.\n\nFor three days after being investited with the _poita_ the boy is\nenjoined to sleep either on a carpet or a deer's skin, without a\nmattress or a musquito curtain. His food consists of boiled rice, ghee,\nmilk and sugar, etc., only once a day, without oil and salt. He is\nstrictly prohibited to see the sun or the face of a soodra, and is\nconstantly employed in learning the sacred _gayutree_ and the forms of\nthe daily service which should be repeated thrice in a day. On the\nmorning of the fourth day, he goes to the sacred stream of the Ganges,\nthrows the two staves into the water, bathes, repeats his prayers,\nreturns home, and again enters on the performance of his ordinary\nsecular duties. During the day, a few Brahmins are fed according to the\ncircumstances of the family. Thus the ceremony of investiture is closed,\nand the boy being purified and regenerated is elevated to the rank of a\n_Dwija_ or twice born. How easily does the Brahminical Shastra make a\nchange for the better in a religious sense in a youth quite incapable of\nforming adequate conceptions of a spiritual regeneration by the mere\nadministration of a single rite!\n\nHaving endeavoured to give thus a short account of the ceremonies\nconnected with the investiture of the sacred thread of a Brahmin, it\nremains to be seen how far his present position, character and conduct\nharmonise with the reputed sanctity of his regenerated nature. Great\nblame is laid at the door of the British Government, because it does not\naccord that high respect to the sacerdotal class which their own Rajahs\nhad shewn them in the halcyon days of Hindooism. Before the advent of\nthe British to India, the doctrines of the Brahminical creed, as\nindicated above, were in full force. Every Hindoo king used to enforce\non all classes of the people high or low, a strict observance of the\nidolatrous ceremonies prescribed in the Hindoo Shastra. In the dark ages\nscarcely any nation in the world was hemmed in by such a close ring of\nreligious ceremonials as the people of this country. Almost every\ncommonplace occurrence had its peculiar rites which required the\ninterposition of the sacerdotal class. On occasions of prosperity or\nadversity, of rejoicing or calamity, their ministration was alike\nneeded. These formed their ordinary sources of gain, but the greatest\nmeans of support consisted in the grants of lands, including sometimes\nhouses, tanks, gardens, etc., given in perpetuity to gods or the\npriests. These grants are called, as I have already stated, the\n_Debatras_ and _Brahmatras_. Among others, the Rajahs of Burdwan,\nKishnaghur, and Tipperah made the greatest gifts, and their names are\nstill remembered with gratitude by many a Brahmin in Bengal. But the Law\nauthorizing the resumption of rent-free tenures has, as must naturally\nbe expected, made the English Government obnoxious, and it is denounced\nin no measured terms for the sacrilegious act. If Manu were to visit\nBengal now, his indignation and amazement would know no bounds in\nwitnessing the sacerdotal class reduced to the humiliating position of a\nservile, cringing and mercenary crowd of men. Their original prestige\nhas suffered a total shipwreck. Generally speaking, a Brahmin of the\npresent day is practically a Soodra (the most inferior class) of the\npast age, irretrievably sunk in honor and dignity. Indeed it was one of\nthe curses of the Vedic period that to be a Brahmin of the present _Kali\nyagu_ would be an impersonation of corruption, baseness and venality.\n\nThere is a common saying amongst the Natives that a Brahmin is a beggar\neven if he were possessed of a lakh of Rupees (L10,000.) It is a\nlamentable fact that impecuniosity is the common lot of the class. In\nordinary conversation, when the question of the comparative fortunes of\nthe different classes is introduced, a Brahmin is often heard to lament\nhis most impecunious lot. The gains of the sacerdotal class of the\npresent day have been reduced to the lowest scale imaginable. If an\nofficiating priest can make ten Rupees a month, he considers himself\nvery well off. He can no longer plume himself on his religious purity\nand mental superiority, once so pre-eminently characteristic of the\norder. The spread of English education has sounded the death-knell of\nhis spiritual ascendancy. In short, his fate is doomed; he must bear or\nmust forbear, as seems to him best. The tide of improvement will\ncontinue to roll on uninterruptedly, in spite of every \"freezing and\nblighting influence,\" and we heartily rejoice to discover already that\nthe \"tender blade is grown into the green ear, and from the green ear to\nthe rich and ripened corn.\"\n\nWhen, a few years ago, Sir Richard Temple carefully examined the\nCriminal Statistics of Bengal, he was most deeply concerned to find that\nthe proportion of the Brahmin criminals in the jails of the Province far\noutnumbered that of any other caste. This is an astounding fact, bearing\nthe most unimpeachable testimony to the very lamentable deterioration of\nthe Hindoo ecclesiastical class in our days. To expatiate on the subject\nwould be unpalatable. But we believe we can point with a degree of\npardonable pride to a past period when nine men of literary genius,\namong whom the renowned Kalidas, the Indian Shakespeare, was the most\nbrilliant, flourished in the Court of Vikramaditya in Ougein; but\ndynastic changes were simultaneously accompanied by the rapid decline of\nlearning as well as of religious purity.\n\nThe English rule, though most fiercely denounced by selfish,\nnarrow-minded men, has nevertheless been productive of the most\nbeneficial results even as far as the sacerdotal class is concerned.\nEvery encouragement is now-a-days afforded to the cultivation of the\nclassical language of India--Sanskrit--and not only are suitable\nemployments provided for the most learned Pundits[93] in all the\nGovernment, Missionary and private educational Institutions throughout\nthe country, but the University degrees conferred on the most successful\nstudents, tend to stimulate them to further laudable exertions in the\nstudy of the sacred language, which, but for this renewed attempt at\ncultivation and improvement, would have been very much neglected.\n\nIndependently of the above consideration, it is no less gratifying than\ncertain that the progress of education has produced men, sprung from the\nsacerdotal class, whose eminent scholarly attainments, high moral\nprinciples and unblemished character, as well as a practical useful\ncareer, have raised them to the foremost ranks of Hindoo society.\nRammohun Roy, Dr. K. M. Banerjea, Pundit Isser Chunder Vidyasager, Baboo\nBhoodeb Mookerjee, and others of equal mental calibre, are names\ndeservedly enshrined in the grateful memory of their countrymen. If\nWestern knowledge had not been introduced into India, men of such high\nculture and moral excellence would have passed away unnoticed and\nunrecognised in the republic of letters, and the fruits of their\nliterary labors, instead of being regarded as a valuable contribution to\nour stock of knowledge, would have been buried in obscurity. To study\nthe lives of such distinguished pioneers of Hindoo enlightenment, \"is to\nstir up our breasts to an exhilarating pursuit of high and ever-growing\nattainments in intellect and virtue.\"\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[91] As the natural consequence of this declension of supremacy,\nBrahminical learning, from this and other analogous circumstances, slept\na winter sleep, occasionally disturbed and broken by brilliant\ncoruscations of light thrown upon it by Western researches,\ncontemporaneously sustained by the faint efforts of learned Pundits.\n\n[92] To so miserable a strait are some of them reduced that they\nactually strive to get a living by making these sacred thread poitas and\nstrings for loins, indicating the pinching poverty and repulsive squalor\nin which they pine away their wretched existence. Indeed not a few of\nthese widows are left \"to the cold pity and grudging charity of a frosty\nworld.\" They might almost sing and sigh with the poet as he sat in deep\ndejection on the shore.\n\n\"Alas! I have nor hope, nor health, Nor peace within, nor calm around;\nNor that content, surpassing wealth, The sage in contemplation found;\n\n         *       *       *       *       *\n\nOthers I see whom these surround, Smiling they live, and call life\npleasure; To me that cup hath been dealt in another measure.\"\n\n[93] However learned a Pundit might be in philology, philosophy, logic\nand theology, he is lamentably deficient in scientific knowledge,\nnotably in geography and ethnology. With a view to test the knowledge of\nhis Pundit on those two subjects, Bishop Middleton was said to have once\nasked him two very simple questions, (1) whence are the English come?\n(2) what is their origin? The reply of the Pundit was somewhat to the\nfollowing effect: The English are come somewhere from Lunka or Ceylon\n(the imaginary land of cannibals), and they are of mixed origin, sprung\nfrom monkey and cannibal, because they jabber like monkeys, and sit like\nthem on chairs with their legs hanging down,--an attitude peculiar to\nthe monkey species,--and they eat like cannibals half-boiled beef, pork,\nmutton, &c. Childish as the reply was, the pious Bishop, however, with\nhis wonted benignity, smiled and corrected his error.\n\n\n\n\nXV.\n\nTHE BENGALEE BABOO.\n\n\nThis is an euphonious oriental title, suggestive of some amiable\nqualities which are eminently calculated to adorn and elevate human\nlife. A Bengalee Baboo of the present age, however, is a curious product\ncomposed of very heterogeneous elements. The importation of Western\nknowledge has imbued him with new fangled ideas, and shallow draughts\nhave made him conceited and supercilious, disdaining almost everything\nIndian, and affecting a love of European aesthetics. The humourous\nperformance of Dave Carson, and the caustic remarks of Sir Ali Baba,\ngive graphic representations of his anglicised taste, habits and\nbearing. Any thing affected or imitated is apt to nauseate when\ncontrasted with the genuine and natural.\n\nThe anglicised Baboos are certainly well-meaning men, instinctively\ndisposed to move within the groove traditionally prescribed for them,\nbut the scintillation of European ideas and a servile imitation of\nWestern manners have played sad havoc with their original tendencies.\nAmbitious of being considered enlightened and elevated above the common\nherd, their improved taste and inclination almost unconsciously relegate\nthem to the enchanted dream-land of European refinement, amidst the\nridicule of the wise and the discerning. Society now-a-days is a\nquick-shifting panorama. Old scenes and associations rapidly pass away\nto make room for new ones, and prescriptive usages fall into oblivion. A\nnew order of things springs up, and new actors replace the old ones. The\ninfluence of the aged is diminished, and the young and impulsive seize\nwith avidity the prizes of life, forgetting in their wild precipitancy\nthe unerring dictates of cool deliberation. \"The hurried, bustling,\ntumultuous, feverish Present swallows up men's thoughts,\" and the\nmomentous interests of society looming in the Future are almost entirely\ndisregarded. The result necessarily carries them wide of the great\nobject of human life. They forfeit the regard and sympathy of their\nfellow countrymen whose moral and intellectual advancement they should\ngradually strive to promote by winning their love and confidence.\n\nAs a man of fashion he cuts a burlesque figure by adopting partly\nMussulman and partly European dress, and imitating the European style of\nliving, as if modern civilization could be brought about by wearing\ntight pantaloons, tight shirts and black coats of alpaca or broadcloth.\nHe culminates in a coquettish embossed cap or thin-folded shawl turban,\nwith perhaps a shawl neckcloth in winter. He eats mutton chops and fowl\ncurry, drinks Brandy panee or Old Tom, and smokes Manilla or Burmah\ncigars _a la Francaise_. Certainly the use of those eatables and\ndrinkables is proscribed in the Hindoo Shastra, and an honest avowal of\nit will sooner or later expose him to public derision, and estrange him\nfrom the hearts of the orthodox Hindoos. A wise European, who has the\nreal welfare of the people at heart, will never encourage such an\nobjectionable line of conduct, because it is _per se_ calculated to\ndenationalise. To be more explicit, even at the risk of verbosity, it\nshould be mentioned that Baboos resident in Calcutta not unjustly pride\nthemselves on being the denizens of the great Metropolis of British\nIndia, which is unquestionably the focus of enlightenment, the centre of\ncivilization and refinement, and the emporium of fashion in the East.\nPeople in the country glory and console themselves with the idea that in\ntheir adoption of social manners and customs they follow the example of\nthe big Baboos of Calcutta. Although the fashions of Hindoo society in\nCalcutta do not change with the rapidity they do in Paris and London,\nmonthly, fortnightly and weekly, yet they vary, perhaps, once in two or\nthree years, and even then the change is partial and not radical. Slowly\nand gradually, the Hindoos of Bengal have abandoned their original and\nprimitive dress, which consisted of thin slender garments, suited to the\nwarm temperature of the climate at least for the greater part of the\nyear, and adopted that of their conquerors. A simple _dhootee_ and\n_dubjah_, with perhaps an _alkhala_ on the back and a folded _pugree_ on\nthe head, constituted the dress of a Bengali not long before the battle\nof Plassey. The court dress was, indeed, somewhat different, but then it\nwas a servile imitation of that of a Rajpoot chief or a Mussulman king.\nWhen Rajahs Rajbullub, and Nubkissen, and Suddur-ud-din, a Mohamedan,\nattended the Government House in the time of Clive and Hastings, what\nwas their court costume but an exact copy of the Mussulman dress? Even\nnow, after the lapse of a century and a half, they use their primitive\ndress at home, _viz._, a _dhootee_ and an _uraney_. An Englishman would\nnot easily recognise or identify a Bengalee at home and a Bengalee in\nhis office dress, the difference being striking and marked. But the\nestablishment of the British rule in India has introduced a very great\nchange in the national costume and taste, irrespective of the\nintellectual revolution, which is still greater. Twenty years ago the\ngala dress of a Bengalee boy consisted of a simple Dacca _dhootee_ and a\nDacca _ecloye_, with a pair of tinsel-worked shoes; but now rich\nEnglish, German and China satin, brocade and velvet with embossed\nflowers, and gold and silver fringes and outskirts, have come into\nfashion and general use. It is a common sight to see a boy dressed in a\npantaloon and coat made of the above costly stuffs, with a laced velvet\ncap, driving about the streets of Calcutta during the festive days. Of\ncourse the more genteel and modest of the class, _sobered down_ by age\nand experience, do not share in the juvenile taste for the gaudy and\nshowy. As becomes their maturer years, they are satisfied with a decent\nbroadcloth coat and pantaloon, with a white cloth or Cashmere shawl\n_pugree_, more in accordance with simple English taste. But both the\nyoung and the old must have patent Japan leather shoes from Cuthbertson\nand Harper, Monteith & Co., or the Bentinck Street Chinese shoemakers,\nthe laced Mussulman shoes having gone entirely out of fashion. Nor is\nthe taste of the Hindoo females in a primitive stage as far as\ncostliness is concerned. Instead of Dacca _Taercha_ or _Bale Boo[t.]a_\nSari, they must have either Benares gold embroidered or French embossed\ngossamer _Sari_, with gold lace borders and ends. It would not be out of\nplace to notice here that it would be a very desirable improvement in\nthe way of decency to introduce among the Hindoo females of Bengal a\nstouter fabric for their garment in place of the present thin, flimsy,\nloose _sari_, without any other covering over it. In this respect, their\nsisters of the North-Western and Central Provinces, as well as those of\nthe South, are decidedly more decent and respectable. A few respectable\nHindoo ladies have of late years begun to put an _unghia_ or corset over\ntheir bodies, but still the under vestment is shamefully indelicate. Why\ndo not the Baboos of Bengal strive to introduce a salutary change in the\ndress of their mothers, wives, sisters and daughters, which private\ndecency and public morality most urgently demand? These social reforms\nmust go hand in hand with religious, moral and intellectual improvement.\nThe one is as essential to the elevation and dignity of female character\nas the other is to the advancement of the nation in the scale of\ncivilization.\n\nThe Lancashire and German weavers have ample cause to rejoice that their\nmanufactured colored woollen fabrics have greatly superseded the Indian\n_Pashmina_ goods--Cashmere shawls not excepted,--and European Cashmere,\nbroadcloth, flannel, hosiery and haberdashery are now in great request.\nFrom the wealthiest Baboo to the commonest fruit seller, half hose or\nfull stockings are very commonly used. This forms an essential part of\nthe official gear of a _keranee_ (writer) of the present day, though he\nis now seen without his national _pugree_ or head dress.\n\nA Bengalee Baboo is said to be a money-making man. By the most ingenious\nmakeshifts he contrives to earn enough to enable him to make both ends\nmeet, and lay by something for the evening of his life. He is generally\na thrifty character, and does not much mind how the world goes when his\nown income is positive. He lacks enterprise, and is therefore most\nreluctant to engage in any haphazard commercial venture, though he has\nvery laudable patterns amongst his own countrymen, who, by dint of\nenergy, prudence, perseverance and probity, have risen from an obscure\nposition in life to the foremost rank of successful Native merchants. He\nis destitute of pluck, and the risk of a commercial venture stares him\nin the face in all his highways and byways. In many cases he has\ninherited a colossal fortune, but that does not stir up in his breast an\nenterprising spirit. He seeks and courts service, and in nine cases out\nof ten succeeds. The sweets of service, and the prospect of promotion\nand pension, slowly steal into his soul, and he gladly bends his neck\nunder the yoke of servitude. It is a lamentable fact that he is a\nstranger to that \"proud submission of the heart which keeps alive in\nservitude itself the spirit of an exalted freedom.\" As a vanquished\nrace, subordination is the inevitable lot of the Natives, but it is\nedifying to see how they hug its trammels with perfect complacency.\n\nThe English Government is to the people of Bengal a special boon, a\ngod-send. Almost every respectable family of Bengalee Baboos, past or\npresent, is more or less indebted to it for its status and distinction,\nposition and influence, affluence and prosperity. The records of\nauthentic history clearly demonstrate the fact that the Baboos of Bengal\nhave been more benefited by their British rulers than ever they were\nunder their own dynasty. Instances are not wanting to corroborate the\nfact. The love of money is natural in man, and few men are more\npowerfully and, in many cases, more dangerously influenced by it than\nthe people of this country. \"It is a thirst which is inflamed by the\nvery copiousness of its draughts.\" Possession or accumulation does not\nsufficiently satisfy it.\n\nExperience and observation amply attest the truth of the following\ncurrent saying among the Hindoos of the Upper Provinces, _viz._,\n\"_Kamayta topeewallah_, _lotetah dhoteewallah_,\" the meaning of which\nis, the English earn, the Bengalees plunder. To be more explicit, the\nEnglish continue to extend their conquests, the Bengalee Baboos\nparticipate in the loaves and fishes of the Public Service. In a\ndejected spirit of mind, a Hindoosthanee is often heard to mourn; he\naddresses a Sahib in the most respectful manner imaginable, by using\nsuch flattering terms as \"_Khodabund_, _garibparbar_,\" but in nine cases\nout of ten the Sahib scornfully turns away his head; when, on the\ncontrary, a Bengalee _gir gir karkay dho ba[t.]h sanay diya_, _i. e._,\njabbers to him a few words, he patiently listens to him, and signifies\nhis acquiescence in what he says by a nod. In his boorish simplicity,\nthe Hindoosthanee concludes that the Bengalee Baboos are well versed in\ncharms, or else how do they manage to tame a grim biped like a Sahib.\n\nWith a view to remove this erroneous impression, which until recently\nwas so very common among the inhabitants of the Upper Provinces, and the\nexistence of which is so prejudicial to the general encouragement of\neducation throughout India, as well as to the impartial character and\nhigh dignity of the paramount power, the local Governments have been\ndirected in future to select for public service all the educated Natives\nborn and bred up under their respective Administrations in preference to\nthe Bengalees. Thus the aspiration of a Bengalee Baboo, so far as Public\nService is concerned, is now restricted within the limits of his own\nProvince.\n\nA Bengalee Baboo is an eager hunter after academic honors. The\nUniversity confers on him the high degrees of B. A., M. A. and B. L.,\nand he distinguishes himself as a speaking member of the British Indian\nAssociation or of the Calcutta Municipality. He also reads valedictory\naddresses to retiring Governors and other Government Magnificoes. He is\ncreated a Maharajah, a Rajah, a Rai Bahadoor, with perhaps the\nadditional paraphernalia of C. S. I. or C. I. E. As a ripe man of vivid\nambition and lofty aspiration, he necessarily hankers after and is all\na-gog to dash through thick and thin for these new honors and\ndecorations. He drives swiftly about in his barouche with his staff\nholder on the coach-box in broadcloth livery. Unfortunately no baronetcy\nblazons forth in Bengalee heraldry, like that bestowed on Sir Jamsetjee\nJeejeebhoy. The cause is obvious. No millionaire Bengalee has to this\nday contributed so munificently to public charities as the Parsee\nbaronet.\n\nWhen that distinguished Hindoo reformer, Baboo Dwarkanath Tagore,--the\nmost staunch coadjutor of Rajah Rammohun Roy,--visited England, it was\nreported that Her Majesty had most graciously offered to confer on him\nthe title of a Rajah; and his liberality and public spirit fully\nentitled him to that high distinction, but he politely refused it on the\nground that his position did not justify his accepting it. He felt that\nthe shadow of a name without substance was but a mockery. When Rajah\nRadhakant Deb was elected President of the British Indian Association\n\"he used to declare that he was more proud of that office than of his\ntitle of Rajah Bahadoor, inasmuch as it indicated the chiefship of a\nbody which was a power in the State and was destined to achieve immense\ngood for the country.\" At the time of the Prince of Wales' visit to\nCalcutta, it was said that a certain English-made Rajah was introduced\nby a Government Magnifico to the Maharajah of Cashmere; among other\nmatters, the Cashmere Rajah out of curiosity asked the Bengal Rajah,\n\"where was his Raj and what was the strength of his army?\" The question\nat once puzzled him, and his answer was anything but satisfactory. Of\nall the Indian Viceroys, Lord Lytton was certainly the most liberal in\nbestowing these hollow titles on the Baboos of Bengal, under a mistaken\nnotion of winning the love and confidence, which ought to constitute the\nsolid basis of a good Government. A Rajahship,[94] without the necessary\nequipage and material and moral grandeur of royalty is but a gilt\nornament that dazzles at first sight but possesses little intrinsic\nvalue. It is in fact a misnomer, a sham, a counterfeit. The love of\nhonor or power constitutes one of the main principles of human nature. A\nRajah, in the true sense of the word, is one who shares in the royalty\nof divine attributes. He should remember that a man is bound to look to\nsomething more than his mere wardrobe and title; he must possess a\ngoodness and a greatness which would benefit thousands and tens of\nthousands of his fellow-creatures by the exercise of real,\ndisinterested virtue. Such a career alone can leave an imperishable and\nennobling name behind, which will go down to posterity as a pattern of\nmoral grandeur.[95] Politically considered these titles and decorations\nhave their value, inasmuch as they have a tendency to promote the\n_entente cordiale_ between the rulers and the ruled, and, next to the\nPublic Debt, furnish, in an indirect way, an additional buttress to the\nstability of the British Indian empire.\n\nIn former times, when the English rule was in its inceptive stage, when\nexternal pageant--the outcome of vanity--was not much thought of, when\nthe simple taste of the people was not tainted by luxury and corruption,\nan unnatural craving for titles exerted but a very feeble influence on\nthe minds of the great. Instead of seeking \"the bubble reputation\" they\nvied with each other in the extent of their religious gifts and\nendowments, affording substantial aid to the learned of the land and to\nthe poorer classes of the community. A spirit of disinterestedness and\nself-sacrifice never at variance with magnanimity was conspicuous in all\ntheir gifts. The immense extent of _Debatra_ and _Brahmatra_ land, _i.\ne._, rent-free tenures throughout Bengal, even after the relentless\noperation of the Resumption Act, still bears testimony to their\ndisinterested benevolence and the heartiness with which they entered\ninto other men's interests. Of course they were incapable of\ncomprehending the innumerable affinities and relations of life in all\nits varied phases, rising from the finite and transient to the infinite\nand the enduring, but whatever they gave, they gave not with a stinted\nhand nor in an ostentatious way, but with a truly benevolent and\ndisinterested heart, looking to the Most High for their guerdon. The\nsublime and elevated conception of organised charity never penetrated\ntheir minds. Religious gifts and endowments formed the great bulk of\ntheir contributions, but they also made permanent provision for the\nrelief of the helpless and the destitute,[96] not on the recognised\nprinciples of English charity, _i. e._ the Hospital system, the Nurses'\nInstitutions, Reformatories for unfortunates, parish relief, funds for\nthe aged and infirm, provision of improved dwellings as well as for\nbaths and wash-houses for the working-classes inaugurated by the\nmagnificent gift by Mr. G. Peabody of L250,000, ragged schools and\nasylums for the deaf, dumb and blind, supported by voluntary\ncontributions, and other organised methods for the relief of distress\nand destitution throughout the country. It is a sad reflection on the\nbenevolent disposition of the Natives that they cannot boast of anything\nbearing a remote analogy to the above recognised forms of Charity. In\nIndia there is much individual charity of an impulsive and interested\ncharacter, but the great element of success in English charity is\ncombination and organisation, without which no work of public utility\ncan be practically carried out.\n\nIt is obvious that the peculiar social economy of the Natives presents\nan almost insuperable barrier to the harmonious amalgamation of the\ndifferent classes artificially split into numerous subdivisions. In the\nneighbourhood of Poona, Mr. Elphinstone says, there are about 150\ndifferent castes, and in Bengal they are very numerous. They maintain\ntheir divisions, however obscurely derived, with great strictness.[97]\nThe religious, social and moral duties of these classes, exhibit marked\ndifferences, which are opposed to the combination of united efforts in\nthe cause of relieving suffering humanity. The idea of a national\nbrotherhood and a system of universal philanthropy, such as Christianity\nhas nobly inaugurated, is much too elevated for the narrow, contracted\nminds of the people. Independent of the numerous subdivisions of caste,\nunhappily there still exists an impassable gulf between the Hindoos and\nMussulmans--at present the children of the same soil--which has hitherto\nkept up a state of unhallowed separatism, essentially at variance with a\ncordial coalition for the consummation of any comprehensive system of\nPublic Charity designed to benefit both. Age has rooted in the minds of\nthe two communities an implacable mutual hate, quite subversive of the\nbest interests of humanity. Plausible arguments may be adduced in\nsupport of the existence of this race antagonism, but let both of them\nbe assured that \"by abusing this world they shall not earn a better.\"\nLet every act or feeling or motive of both races be merged in one\nharmonious whole, developing the perfection of human nature in a\ndistinct and bright reality.\n\nA Bengalee Baboo is fond of discussing European politics. The reading of\nhistory has given him a superficial insight into the rise and progress\nof nations. He does not deny that he amplifies and emphasises the\nsentiments he has learnt in the school of English politics. The orations\nof Lall Mohun Ghose in England have proved that a native of India has\nmastered the art of thinking on his legs, which is the beginning and end\nof oratory. A few more men like him, steadily working in earnest at the\nfountain head of power, would certainly awaken public attention towards\nthe present condition of our country. It was Lord William Bentinck who\nadvised a body of Native Memorialists, anxious for the political\nemancipation of their country, \"to continue to agitate until they gained\ntheir end.\" Constitutional representation to proper authority, his\nLordship remarked, would as much command public attention as idle,\nfactious declamation divert it.[98] He was emphatically the \"People's\nWilliam\" in India, as Gladstone is the \"People's William\" in England. He\nwas a statesman who directed his whole attention and energy to internal\nimprovement, repudiating all schemes of aggression or conquest. His\nbeneficence, immortalised in a noble monument--the Calcutta Medical\nCollege,--will be more gratefully acknowledged by the latest generation\nthan the genius of a Hastings, a Wellesley, or a Dalhousie.\n\nThe complete emancipation of India, however, is a question of time.\nBaboo Lall Mohun Ghose's speeches in England have not been entirely\nfruitless, inasmuch as they have evoked and enlisted the sympathy of a\nfew leaders of public opinion. He is manfully struggling to remove the\nbar of political disabilities, and to secure for his countrymen the\nbenefit of representative institutions, for the recognition and\nappreciation of which they are now prepared. While they hope for the\nbest, they must be prepared for the worst. They must learn meanwhile to\ncherish, as among the essential elements of ultimate success, a firm,\nmanly, independent and self-denying spirit.\n\nA Bengalee Baboo is often voted a man of tall talk. Platitude is his\nforte. This is surely true to a certain extent; and until he descends\nfrom the elevated region of speculation to the matter of fact arena of\npractice, both his writings and harangues must necessarily prove\nabortive. He must learn to exchange his verbosity for action in the\ngreat battle of life. Every great politician or statesman must have a\nthorough practical training to enable him to overcome the opposition of\ndifferent factions whose interests are jeopardised by his success, and\nto render his administration a blessing to the people. He must be\nprepared to grow and advance under adverse influences. The history of\nthat consummate statesman, Sir Salar Jung, of that distinguished scholar\nand councillor, Sir T. Madeo Rao, of that astute minister, Maharajah Sir\nDinkur Rao, furnishes the most convincing examples of superior\nadministrative ability combined with practical wisdom. Lord Northbrook,\nin a recent speech at Birmingham, has made honorable mention of these\nthree eminent statesmen, whose valuable services in their respective\nspheres have long since established their substantial claims to the the\ngratitude of their fellow countrymen. When Sir Salar Jung visited\nEurope, his very comprehensive and enlightened views elicited the\nadmiration of several of the wisest statesmen of the age. His able and\nsuccessful administration at Hyderabad, amidst the fierce opposition of\nfactious parties, affords an admirable illustration of his superior\npractical wisdom. When, some thirty years ago, Maharajah Sir Dinkur Rao\nvisited Calcutta, he was the wonder of all who heard him enunciate, in a\ntelling speech at the Town Hall, his high, noble and practical views on\ncivil Government. The speech was not made feverish by visions of\nindistinct good, as Mr. Theodore Dickens said, but it was a clear\nexposition of the liberal sentiments of a wise statesman.\n\nThe Bengalees are not a warlike race. Their traditional habits and\nusages, their physique, their diet and dress, their natural tendency to\nslothfulness and effeminacy, their proverbial quietude, their general\nwant of pluck and manly spirit, their ascetic composure, placing the\nchief joys of life in rest and competency,--an heirloom descended from\ntheir ancestors,--all indicate an unwarlike temperament. During the\nMutiny of 1875,--an event which in atrocious acts of cruelty\nincomparably surpasses all other historical events ever recorded,--that\nkind hearted Governor General, Lord Canning, was advised to introduce\nMartial Law into Calcutta, but he negatived the proposal by emphatically\ndeclaring in the Council Chamber that the Bengalees are a mild, tame,\ninoffensive and loyal race of people, whose only weapon of defence is a\nsimple penknife. A common Police constable with his baton is to them a\ngrim master of authority. A red-coated Highlander is formidable enough\nto cope with and drive away an immense crowd of Bengalees even in the\nvery heart of the City of Palaces, while in the villages all shops and\nhouses are closed at the very sight of an European soldier in his\nuniform. In fact, Bengal can well be governed by a handful of Native\nPolice constables, especially when the Arms' Act is in full force.\nUnlike the military races of Upper India, or the border tribes, the\nBengalees will never, even under the influence of the most aggravated\nwrongs and injuries, retaliate or resort to such a desperate court of\nappeal as war and murder.\n\nEnglish is the adopted language of a Bengalee Baboo. It is an\ninstructive study to take a cursory view of the rapid progress of\nEnglish education throughout India from the day when David Hare had held\nout pecuniary inducements to Hindoo youths to attend his school, and Dr.\nDuff called in the aid of Rammohun Roy to found the infant General\nAssembly's Institution, now developed into the largest College in India.\nFifty years ago, who dreamt or even hazarded a prediction that a Native\nlad of sixteen or seventeen years of age would venture to traverse the\nperilous ocean and compete for the Civil Service Examination in England,\npaying no heed whatever to the manifold disadvantages arising from\nsocial persecution, and the disruption of domestic relations of the\ntenderest nature. When Bacon said that knowledge is power, he certainly\ndid not mean physical but intellectual power. It is the irresistible\ninfluence of this power that has inspirited an Indian youth to appear at\nthe English \"open competition\" for the purpose of winning academic spurs\nand entering a closely fenced service; it is the quickening influence of\nthis power, combined with an enterprising spirit, that has gradually\nenabled a mere handful of English adventurers to convert a small factory\ninto one of the vastest empires in the East. The gigantic strides that\nEnglish education has made in India within a short time, have been the\nwonder of the age, the foundation rock of her ultimate emancipation,\nsocially, morally and intellectually. The prison wall round the mind\nwhich ages had reared and learning fortified has been completely\ndemolished, and not only men but matronly zenana females have picked up\na few crumbs of broken English words which they occasionally use in\nfamiliar conversation, for instance, Rail, Talygraf, Guvner, Juj\nMajister, High Cote, etc.\n\nSome of the Bengalee Baboos read and write English with remarkable\nfluency, and the epistolary correspondence of most of them is commonly\ncarried on in that language. When two or more educated Baboos meet\ntogether, or take their constitutional in the morning, they perhaps talk\nof some reading articles in the Anglo-Indian or English journals or\nperiodicals, and eagerly communicate to each other \"the flotsam and\njetsam of advanced European thoughts, the ripest outcome in the\nNineteenth century, or the aftermath in the Fortnightly,\" as if the\nvernacular dialect were not at all fitted for the communication of their\nideas. It is a pity that the cultivation and improvement of a national\nliterature--the embodiment of national thought and taste and the\nmainspring of national enlightenment--seldom or never engages their\nserious attention. But it is a great mistake to suppose that the large\nmass of the Indian population can be thoroughly instructed and reformed\nthrough the medium of a foreign language. The richness and copiousness\nof modern English, combining as it does conciseness with solidity and\nperspicuity, are admittedly very great; it is admirably adapted for the\neducated _few_, but it is not equally suited to the capacity and\ncomprehension of the _many_. It is incumbent, therefore, on all well\ndisposed Hindoos, who have the real welfare of their country at heart,\nto endeavour to fertilise their national literature by transplanting\ninto it the advanced thoughts of modern Europe, and to enrich it with\ncopiousness, such as would obviate its acknowledged deficiency and\nbarrenness. Until this is done, it is as unreasonable to expect elegance\nand perfection in the national literature as it is to expect harvest in\nseed-time or the full vigor of manhood in the incipient state of\nchildhood.\n\nAssuredly the Bengalees are a race of _keranees_ or writers, as Napoleon\nsaid the English were a nation of shopkeepers. Every morning and\nevening, almost all the main streets of Calcutta leading to the English\nquarter--bright prospect for the Tramway--are literally thronged with\ndense crowds of keranees in their white cloth uniform, busily making for\ntheir respective offices, either in shabby looking third class hackney\ncarriages or on foot. A foreigner not used to such sights cannot fail\nalmost unconsciously to come to a conclusion that the Bengalees are a\nnation of keranees. Every Government, Railway or Merchant's office, is\nfilled with these Baboos, either actually employed or serving on\nprobation, biding their time in fond expectation of picking up a slice\nof official bread, buttered or unbuttered. Even graduates of the\nCalcutta University do not hesitate to serve as apprentices, because a\ncollegiate course does not teach the rules of bureaucracy or official\nroutine. Most of them are good copyists or clever accountants, while a\nfew are correspondence clerks. As a rule, their pay is very small\ncompared with what is given to English Clerks, for reasons which I need\nnot dilate upon here.\n\nWithin the range of our experience, extending over fifty years, we\nremember only one Native gentleman--Baboo Shama Churn Dey, the present\nvice-chairman of the Calcutta Municipality--who, by his tried ability,\nintelligence and integrity has managed to climb to the top of\nkeraneedom. In recognition of his high efficiency his salary has been\nraised to one thousand Rupees a month, in spite of many instances of\nsupersession. I, in common with others, am fully persuaded that had he\nbeen a British-born Civilian, he would undoubtedly have drawn a much\nlarger salary. But it is useless to repine at a misfortune which is\ninevitable.\n\nEven the amusements of a Bengalee Baboo are more or less anglicised.\nInstead of the traditional _Jattras_, (representations) and _Cobees_\n(popular ballads) he has gradually imbibed a taste for theatrical\nperformances, and native musical instruments are superseded by European\nflutes, concertinas and harmoniums, organs and piano-fortes. This is\ncertainly a decided improvement on the old antiquated system,\ndemonstrating the slow growth of a refined taste. Thus we see in almost\nevery phase of life, at home or outside, the Bengalee Baboo is\nEuropeanized. In his style of living, in his mode of dress, in his\nwritings, in his public and private utterances, in his household\narrangements and furniture, in his bearing and department, in his social\nintercourse, in his mental accomplishments, and in fact, in his\npassionate partiality for Western aesthetics, he is a modified\nAnglo-Indian. But it were devoutly to be wished that he possessed a\nlarger admixture of the essential elements of European truthfulness of\ncharacter, energy and manliness of spirit, straightforwardness in his\ndealings with society, nobility of sentiment, magnanimity combined with\nsimplicity, disinterested love and sympathy, and above all, moral and\nspiritual elevation.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[94] It is a disreputable fact, but it most assuredly _is_ a fact, that\nwhen some years ago a teacher of the Government School of Art published\na book in Bengallee on the ancient arts and manufactures of Hindoosthan,\nand sent a copy of it to one of these English-made Rajahs, he politely\nrefused to take it--the price being one Rupee only--saying it was of no\nuse to him though it was an instructive and suggestive manual. This\nrefusal offers a sad comment on the liberality of my fellow countrymen\ntowards the encouragement of learning. But turning from the dark to the\nbright side of the picture, I may perhaps be permitted to point with\npardonable pride to the almost unparalleled munificence of the late\nBaboo Kally Prosono Singh of this City, in this respect. That\ndistinguished patron of vernacular literature had, it is said, spent\nupwards of L50,000 on the compilation of Mohabharat, that grand Epic\npoem of the Hindoos, which says Talboys Wheeler, still continues to\nexercise an influence on the masses of the people \"infinitely greater\nand more universal than the influence of the Bible upon modern Europe.\"\n\n[95] Of all the English-made Rajahs of the present day, it is pleasing\nto recognise, in Moharajah Rajender Mullick of this City, some of the\nnoble attributes of a Rajah. Modest and unassuming, he manifests to a\ngreat degree a generous disposition to relieve suffering humanity and to\ndo good by stealth. Never did he struggle to thrust himself, by the\nnature of his work, upon public notice. Gifted with an intelligent mind,\na refined taste, and considerable artistic ability, his moral greatness\nthrows all other forms of greatness into the shade. He is not ambitious\nto make his name the theme, the gaze, the wonder of a dazzled community.\n\n[96] Of all the Hindoo millionaires whose life afforded the most\nennobling example of a pious and disinterested man that of Lalla\nBaboo--the ancestor of the present Paikparra Rajah family, in the\nsuburbs of Calcutta--was certainly one of the most remarkable. He\npossessed a princely fortune, a considerable portion of which he wisely\nset apart for the support of the poor and destitute. Unlike most of his\nwealthy countrymen, he renounced all the pleasures of the world, and in\nthe evening of his life retired with only a shred of cloth into the holy\ncity of Brindabun. As a practical illustration of self-denial he\nactually led the life of a religious mendicant, daily begging from door\nto door for a mouthful of bread. His religious endowments still continue\nto offer shelter and food to hundreds of poor people in and around\nBrindabun, which has been so graphically described by Colonel Tod.\n\"Though the groves of Brinda\" says he, \"in which Kanaya (Krishna)\ndisported with the Gopis, no longer resound to the echoes of his flute;\nthough the waters of the Jumna are daily polluted with the blood of the\nsacred kine, still it is the holy land of the pilgrim, the sacred Jordan\nof his fancy, on whose banks he may sit and weep, as did the banished\nIsraelite of old, the glories of Mathoora, his Jerusalem.\"\n\n[97] Division always implies weakness and \"estrangement intolerable\nisolation\" impeding the expansion of genuine benevolent feelings in a\ncomprehensive sense.\n\n[98] Very few persons remember the days when Chuckerbutty faction and\ngrievance Thomson used to raise a hue and cry in the Fouzdarry\nBalakhanah Debating Club, formed for the political emancipation of India\nbefore the people were fully prepared to appreciate the value of their\nrights and privileges.\n\n\n\n\nXVI.\n\nTHE KOBIRAJ OR NATIVE PHYSICIAN.\n\n\nNotwithstanding the rapid progress of medical science throughout the\ncountry since the establishment of the Calcutta Medical College, it is\nan undeniable fact that the practice of Hindoo _Kobirajes_ and Mussulman\n_hakims_ still continues to find favour in the eyes of a large section\nof the Indian population. In Chemistry, Anatomy, Midwifery and Surgery,\nthe decided superiority of the English over the Native system, is\nadmitted by all. This is unquestionably an age of improvement;\neverything around us indicates the progressive development of arts and\nsciences, and a society that does not keep pace with the onward march of\nintellect is certainly much behind the age.\n\nThere was a time when upwards of sixteen original medical writers, some\nof whose works are still extant, flourished in India, and medicines\nprepared according to the formulas of the _Ayurveda_--the best standard\nmedical work--were supposed to have produced wholesome results,\naffording no inconsiderable amount of relief to thousands afflicted with\ndiseases of various kinds, and even of a most malignant character. Under\nthe Hindoo dynasty, every encouragement was given to the cultivation and\nimprovement of medical science. Next to the Brahmins, the Vidya class\nwas respected, though sometimes they are unjustly twitted with what is\ncalled a hybrid origin. It is, however, foreign to our purpose to\ndetermine this point, which seems to be enveloped in obscurity. The\ncommon theory on which the Hindoo system of physic is based, has\nreference to the country, the season and the age of the patient, to\nwhich is superadded the course of regimen suited to his physical\norganisation. The scientific and philosophical theory is that there are\ncertain defined elements in the human body on the natural equilibrium of\nwhich mainly depends the health of man. The disturbance of this normal\nequilibrium, either by the increase or decrease of the essential\ningredients, deranges the system and requires the use of medicines\ngenerally obtained from several kinds of indigenous drugs, bark, root,\nwood, fruits, flowers, metals, &c.\n\nFrom the existing medical works according to which medicines are\nprepared and cures effected, it is evident that the Hindoo system is not\nentirely destitute of science, but the light it is capable of diffusing\nis greatly dimmed by a combination of unfavourable circumstances brought\nabout by the overthrow of the Hindoo dynasty, the decay of learning in\nevery branch of human knowledge, and the consequent growth and progress\nof empiricism.\n\nIn his eleventh discourse before the Asiatic Society, that distinguished\norientalist, Sir William Jones, has said \"Physic appears in these\nregions to have been from time immemorial as we see it practised at this\nday by the Hindoos and Mussulmans, a mere empirical history of diseases\nand medicines.\" This is presumably a remark applicable to a society but\nlittle removed from a state of barbarism, but the existence of such\nscientific works as _Ayurveda_, _Nidan_, _Churruck-Swasru_,\n_Sarasungraha_, _Boidya_, _Sarvuswn_, &c., furnishes abundant proof that\nthe Hindoo system of physic is not altogether founded on empiricism.\n\nIn 1838 the Honorable the East India Company appointed a Committee,\nconsisting of Drs. Jackson, Rankin Bramby, Pearson, W. B. O'Shaughnessy\nand Mr. James Prinsep, to examine and report upon the state of the\nHonorable Company's Dispensaries, and the possibility of substituting\nnative drugs for European medicines, the primary object being twofold,\nnamely cheapness and efficacy. Death, ill health and the casualties of\nthe service dispersed the Committee long before the members could\naccomplish the task imposed on them, and subsequently the whole charge\ndevolved upon Dr. W. B. O'Shaughnessy, who, after the unwearied labour\nof four years, assisted by some of the best Native physicians, produced\na work entitled \"The Bengal Dispensary\" published under the authority of\nthe Government of India, which still remains a valuable monument of his\nindomitable zeal and untiring devotion to medical science.\n\nGreat attention has also been given to the scientific analysis of the\nvarious indigenous drugs by Roxburgh, Wallick, Ainslie, White, Arson,\nRoyle, Pereira, Lindlay, Richard, &c., &c. The result of their\nanalytical examination, though not so exhaustive as the very great\nimportance of the subject required, was nevertheless very favourable to\nthe opinion that the native system was based on fixed scientific\nprinciples, and that many of the drugs possessed great curative\nproperties. Unfortunately the improved principles and important\ndiscoveries of modern Europe have not been sufficiently brought to bear\non the simultaneous development of the native system. They have,\nhowever, proved greatly beneficial in teaching the native _kobirajes_ to\nadopt, to a certain extent, the European method and regime.\n\nIt is a remarkable fact that even now, when this science may be said to\nbe in a retrogressive stage both for want of adequate culture as well as\nof sufficient encouragement, there are a few Hindoo _kobirajes_[99] in\nthis City, and in other parts of the country, whose treatment in chronic\ncases of fever, dysentery, diarrhoea, phthisis, pulmonary consumption,\nasthma, &c., proves, in a great measure, successful. Hence in almost\nevery respectable Hindoo family there is a competent _kobiraj_, who is\nalways consulted in cases of a serious nature. It is generally\nconsidered that on the subject of pulsation greater weight is attached\nto the opinion of a Hindoo _kobiraj_ than to that of an English doctor.\nBy the pulse, in the different parts of our physical organisation, the\nstate of the body may be ascertained and suitable remedies applied. In\ncases of severe indisposition among the Hindoos, the friends of a\npatient have not only to contend against the struggle between life and\ndeath, but to closely watch the last expiring flicker of vitality that\nhe may be removed in time to the banks of the sacred stream for insuring\nhis entrance into heaven.\n\nIt has been urged by some native physicians that the Sanskrit work,\n_Ayurveda_, above-mentioned, treats of anatomy and of the doctrine of\nthe circulation of the blood. If this be true, great credit is doubtless\ndue to its author for having made in a comparatively dark age such\nconsiderable advances in an important branch of medical science, without\nwhich medicine and surgery are of little avail. Chemistry, which enables\nus to distinguish the real properties of different substances, was\ncertainly not unknown to the Hindoo physicians, because their medicines\nindicate a scientific selection of several ingredients mixed together to\nproduce a certain result. But it can by no means be asserted that the\npeople ever attained to a thorough knowledge, either in the one or the\nother, which can bear comparison with the perfection of the modern\nEuropean system. In almost every department of human knowledge steady\nprogress is the grand characteristic of the age, but in this country\nunhappily a spirit of scientific investigation has very nearly been\nextinguished simply for want of adequate cultivation and support.\n\nIf empirics abound in enlightened Christendom, where chemical analysis,\nscientific researches in materia medica and pharmacy, and anatomical\ndemonstration and surgical operations almost daily bring to light new\ndiscoveries and inventions, what can be expected in a country where\nmedical science has long since been in a state of absolute stagnation.\nIgnorant and unprincipled quacks, quite unacquainted with the rules of\nthe Hindoo medical shastras, abound all over the country, which has for\nsome years past been severely suffering from malarious fever of a\nvirulent type, carrying death and devastation wherever it prevails.[100]\nThey literally sport with the health of their patients, and the natural\nconsequence is, hundreds and thousands of human beings are mercilessly\nsacrificed to their ignorance and cupidity. Not one in a hundred of\nthose who call themselves _kobirajes_ is acquainted with the principles\nof physic as laid down in the standard medical works of the Hindoos.\nSome of them have a few nostrums of their own, the composition of which\nis unknown to every one but themselves.\n\nA Bengalee _kobiraj_ carries a miniature dispensary about him. He takes\nwith him a small packet, containing different kinds of pills or powders,\nwrapped up in a piece of paper, in small doses which are commonly used\ntwice a day with ginger, honey, betel, roots of doov-grass, &c. He\nseldom uses phials; liquids, when required, are made in a patient's own\nhouse. His medicines are chiefly made of drugs, but he has neither a\nproper classification of them, nor a complete system of botany. He uses,\nhowever, certain preparations of oil, which are sometimes beneficially\nadministered in chronic cases. These preparations are rather expensive,\nselling from two to ten Rupees per pound. The popularity of some of\nthese _kobirajes_ stands very high in Native public estimation. Almost\nevery wealthy family in the interior as well as in the Town has its own\nphysician. The fee of a quack in the villages is one Rupee on the first\nday of his visit, and he continues to attend twice daily until the\npatient recovers. When completely recovered, the physician gets one or\ntwo Rupees more, a suit of clothes and some provisions.\n\nThe introduction of English medicines into the interior, though not\nscientifically administered in every case, has very considerably\naffected the trade of the native quacks. Their occupation, it may be\nsaid, is nearly gone, because the doctors of the Bengalee class, more\nsystematically trained under the auspices of the Government Vernacular\nColleges, have, in a manner, superseded them. In strong fevers, instead\nof compelling the patient to fast for twenty-one days or longer, and\nrestricting his regimen to parched rice, the Bengalee class doctor first\nreduces him by evacuations,[101] and then gives him either fever\nmixture, or cinchona febrifuge, or quinine mixture as he thinks best.\nIn place of warm applications--the quondam regimen of a kobiraj in\nstrong fevers--he gives ice or cold water, thus relieving the patient\nfrom the effects of a merciless abstinence and excessive thirst. On the\nperiodical return of the unhealthy season in Bengal, _i. e._, in the\nmonths of September, October, November and December, when the atmosphere\nis surcharged with a large quantity of vapour, these doctors generally\nreap a harvest of gain from their practice. It should be mentioned,\nhowever, that their imperfect knowledge and want of sufficient\nexperience, are too often attended with the most disastrous results.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[99] The most popular and successful among them are, Gunga Prosad Sen,\nChunder Coomar Roy, Gopee Bullub Roy, Prosono Chunder Sen, Brojendro\nCoomar Sen, Kally Dass Sen, &c. They profess to practise on the\nprinciples of _Ayurveda_, the best standard work on Hindoo Medical\nScience, and their mode of treatment is much appreciated by respectable\nHindoos.\n\n[100] The general climate of Bengal has for some years past become very\nunhealthy, and as fever is the most prevalent epidemic in the Lower\nProvinces, Dr. D. N. Gupto's Mixture has become a patent medicine,\nproving efficacious in the majority of cases, so that the doctor is said\nto have made a very large fortune by the sale of it within a few years.\nAs far as success is concerned, Dr. D. N. Gupto has almost become the\nminimized Holloway of Bengal. Several other Native assistant surgeons\nhave from time to time endeavoured to offer their anti-malarious mixture\nto the inhabitants of Lower Bengal, but they have signally failed in\nwinning public confidence and favor. Attempts at counterfeit trade marks\nhave also been tried, but on conviction before a Court of Justice the\nguilty have been punished.\n\n[101] The late indisposition of the Marquis of Ripon gave rise to many\nalarming rumours as to the probable turn and termination of the\ndisease--malarious fever--with which he was unhappily attacked during\nhis travels to and from Bombay, and which, according to telegraphic\nmessages, had considerably weakened his constitution, and diminished the\nwonted activity and vigor of his mind. The antiquated notion that\nviolent paroxysm of fever in a European in this country causes the\nabnormal depletion of the system by constant evacuations has still a\nstrong hold on the popular mind. Hence a pessimist view was generally\ntaken of the speedy and complete recovery of so good and beneficent a\nGovernor-General, whose rule, though only just begun, has been happily\ninaugurated by several circumstances of a peculiarly hopeful character,\ntending, in no small degree, to make the people happy and contented by\nanticipation. The termination of the disastrous and ruinous Afghan war,\nthe few public utterances of his Lordship bearing on the future policy\nof the Government of India for the general well-being of the subjects,\nand the sure prospect of an abundant harvest, and the consequent\nappreciable reduction in the price of rice--the main staff of life in\nthis country--by nearly fifty per cent., have all combined to evoke a\nsincere desire and fervent hope among the people for the long\ncontinuance of a rule so nobly begun and beneficently administered. May\nundisturbed peace and undiminished plenty and prosperity be the\ndistinguishing features of such a liberal, generous and pure\nadministration, and may it end fitly what it has begun so auspiciously.\nIn speaking thus favorably of the Marquis of Ripon's Government, I\nmerely echo the sentiments of my countrymen from one end of the vast\nBritish Indian empire to the other.\n\n\n\n\nXVII.\n\nHINDOO FEMALES.\n\n\nThe condition of a Hindoo female, partially described in the preceding\npages, is usually deplorable. The changes and vicissitudes to which her\nchequered life is subject are manifold. From the day she is ushered into\nthe world to her dissolution, she is surrounded by adventitious\ncircumstances, which, from the peculiar constitution of the society in\nwhich her life is cast, contain a larger admixture of misery than of\nhappiness. Weak and frail as she assuredly is made by nature, the\nconventional forms and social usages to which she is religiously\nenjoined to adhere alike tend to deprive her of temporal and spiritual\nhappiness. Born under unfavorable circumstances chiefly by reason of her\nsex, her life is rendered doubly miserable by the galling chains of\nignorance and superstition. \"Accursed the day when a woman child was\nborn to me,\" was the emphatic exclamation of a Rajpoot when a female\nbirth was announced. \"The same motive,\" says Colonel Tod, \"which studded\nEurope with convents, in which youth and beauty were immured until\nliberated by death, first prompted the Rajpoot to infanticide: and,\nhowever revolting the policy, it is perhaps kindness compared to\nincarceration. There can be no doubt that monastic seclusion, practised\nby the Frisians in France, the Langobardi in Italy and the Visigoths in\nSpain, was brought from Central Asia, the cradle of the Goths.[102] It\nis in fact a modification of the same feeling, which characterizes the\nRajpoot and the ancient German warrior,--the dread of dishonor to the\nfair: the former raises the poniard to the breast of his wife rather\nthan witness her captivity, and he gives opiate to the infant, whom, if\nhe cannot portion and marry to her equal, he dare not see degraded.\"\nDescending from the lofty ideal of a chivalrous Rajpoot character to the\nmore familiar portraiture of tame Hindoo life in Bengal, we find the\nsame sad destiny is the portion of a female in both cases. \"When a\nfemale is born no anxious inquiries await the mother--no greetings\nwelcome the new comer, who appears an intruder on the scene, which often\ncloses in the hour of its birth. But the very silence with which a\nfemale birth is accompanied forcibly expresses sorrow.\" In almost every\nstage of life, from infancy to old age, her existence presents a uniform\npicture of gloominess, uncertainty, despondency, and neglect. Freedom of\nthought and independence of action--the natural birthrights of a\nrational being--are denied her not by her Creator but by a selfish,\nnarrow-minded and crafty priesthood. She is treated and disposed of as\nif she were entirely destitute of the feelings and ideas of a sentient\nbeing. She dare not emerge from the unhealthy seclusion of the closely\nconfined _andarmahal_, or female department, where suspicions and\njealousies, envy and malignity are not unfrequently brewing in the\nboiling caldron of domestic discord. Born within the precincts of an\nill-ventilated zenana, and cooped up in the cage of an uncongenial cell,\nshe is destined to breathe her last in that unwholesome retreat.\n\nA European lady can have no idea of the enormous amount of misery and\nprivation to which the life of a Hindoo female is subjected. In her\ncase, the bitters far counterbalance the sweets of life. The natural\nhelplessness of her condition, the abject wretchedness to which she is\ninevitably doomed, the utter prostration of her intellect, the\nascendency of a dominant priesthood exacting unquestioning submission\nto its selfish doctrines, the unmerited neglect of an unsympathetic\nworld, and the appalling hardships and austerities which she is\ncondemned to endure in the event of the death of her lord, literally\nbeggar description. All the graces and accomplishments with which she is\nblessed by nature, and which have a tendency to adorn and ennoble\nhumanity, are in her case unreasonably denounced as unfeminine\nendowments and privileges, to assert which is a sacrilegious act.\n\nIf she is ever happy, she is happy in spite of the cruel ordinances of\nher lawgiver, and the still more cruel usages and institutions of her\ncountry. Manu, the greatest fountain of authority, has expressly\ninculcated the doctrine that no man other than a Brahmin should receive\nthe blessings of knowledge, and much more severely was the rule enforced\nin the case of females, who were held to be naturally unfit for mental\nculture! It was worse than a blasphemy to attempt to educate a female;\nshe was born in ignorance, she must die in ignorance. All the horrors of\na premature and certain widowhood were pictured forth to her eyes, were\nshe to make an effort to enlighten her mind.[103] How shamefully\ncontracted were the views of the Hindoo lawgiver in respect of the\nprogressive development of the human intellect! His prohibitory\ninjunction was and is now more honored in the breach than in observance.\n\nFrom the moment a female child is brought into the world, a new source\nof anxiety arises in the minds of its parents, which becomes more and\nmore intense as it advances in years. The thought of educating the child\nis not what troubles their heads, it is a thought which is at the\nfurthest remove from their imagination; but the idea how to dispose of\nit in the world continually preys on their minds. The child, perfectly\nunconscious of the fate that awaits it, begins to handle the playthings\nset before it, and as nature in almost every case works intuitively, it\nsoon learns to make a miniature kitchen with earthen pots and pans\nresembling that in the midst of which it has to spend the greater\nportion of its existence. It is a noteworthy fact that a Hindoo lady\neven when placed in affluent circumstances does not consider it beneath\nher dignity to occasionally take a part in the _cuisine_, or at least in\nmaking preparations for the same, though the family has professional\ncooks in its employ, the principal object being to feed her husband and\nchildren with extra delicacies prepared with her own hand. Instead of\nidle and unprofitable talk and scandalous gossipings, reflecting on the\ncharacters of others, such an occupation is deserving of\ncommendation.[104]\n\nWhen six or seven years of age, the mother endeavours to initiate the\ngirl in the first course of simple _Bratas_ or religious vows, which are\ndestined, as has been already shewn, to exercise a vast influence on her\nmind. The germs of superstition being thus sown so early take a deep\nroot. Meanwhile the anxiety of the mother for her marriage increases\nwith her growth. Numerous proposals are received and rejected, till at\nlength a selection is made according to the rules stated in a former\nsketch. In this manner, persons are married with as much indifference as\ncattle are yoked together, they are disposed of according to the\njudgment of their parents, without the parties, who are to live together\ntill death, having the slightest opportunity of seeing each other, much\nless of studying each other's disposition.\n\nIf a female child possess, as is very rarely the case, finely chiselled\nfeatures, embodying the ideal of a Hindoo beauty, the breast of the\nmother is freed for a time, but for a time only, from perturbation or\ninternal agitation. It may be she is congratulated on the birth of so\nbeautiful a child, and it is but natural that she should indulge in\npleasant delusions about the future of her offspring. She looks forward\nto a match at once desirable and happy. Fed with such hopes, she\ncherishes many a fond idea of the wealth of joys in store for her\ndaughter. But how often are our brightest hopes blasted by the ruthless\nhand of fortune.\n\nIf, on the contrary, the girl be deficient in beauty, the bosom of the\nmother is perpetually disturbed by gloomy forebodings, which no worldly\nadvantage can effectually remove, no reasoning can sufficiently\nsuppress. The reassuring admonition of congenial minds may sustain her\nspirits for a time, but whenever alone or disengaged from the toils of\ndomestic duties, her mind almost involuntarily reverts to the future\ndestiny of the girl. As day by day she grows older, and her features\nbegin to assume a more distinctive form, the deformity, which was but\nfaintly perceived at first, becomes more striking. The mother herself,\nperhaps, being a living illustration of how fruitless were the attempts\nof her parents to secure for her a desirable match, naturally feels a\nstrong misgiving as to the good fortune of her child.\n\nWhile the hearts of the parents are thus filled with disquieting\nthoughts, the girl is perfectly unconscious of the fate that awaits\nher. She laughs and sports about, regardless of what is written on her\nforehead by the _Bidhata pooroosh_. The performance of the religious vow\nin her infancy, having for its object the securing a good husband, might\nincidentally remind her of marriage, but the thought passes off in a\nmoment like the streaks of a morning cloud. Hence it has been justly\nsaid that the happiest days in the life of a Hindoo female are those\npreceding her marriage. If in Bengal, under the paternal care of a\nChristian Government, she is not permitted to become a victim to the\npoppy at her dawn, or the flames at her riper years, like her Rajpoot\nsister in times of yore, she is ever and anon subject to the appalling\nhardships of a _bidhaba_ life, or widowhood. Though too young to fully\nrealise the thousand and one evils of such a wretched existence, yet the\nliving examples she daily and hourly sees around her make, to use a\nnative phrase, \"her hands and feet enter into her belly.\"\n\nTo those who have studied the existing state of Hindoo society, it is a\nmatter no less of wonder than of gratulation that the system of early\nmarriage, the arbitrary manner in which it is consummated, and the utter\nabsence of the voice and consent of the parties thus affianced, deriding\nthe very idea of the slightest opportunity being given to study each\nother's disposition and habitude, should produce such a large amount of\nconjugal felicity, which is the fundamental object of this solemn\ncompact. In every nation removed from barbarism, marriage is a\nrecognised ordinance, alike sanctioned by the law of God and the law of\nman. It is a solemn covenant between a man and a woman to love each\nother through all the vicissitudes of life, till the union is dissolved\nby the death of either. We may go further and say that even then the tie\nof relationship does not become totally extinct, inasmuch as the party\nsurviving has to provide for the nurture and education of children,\nshould there be any. Such being the nature of a matrimonial engagement,\nit is next to impossible that a boy of fourteen wedded to a girl of nine\nshould be capable of forming an adequate idea of the grave\nresponsibility. The evil must work its own remedy with the general\nspread of education and the growth of a sound system of domestic and\nsocial economy, because the existing one is unhealthy and unnatural. It\nis useless to dilate on the evil consequences of early marriage, they\nare clearly apparent in the every-day life of a Hindoo.\n\nNature is so propitious to us in every respect that out of evil she\nbrings good. When the female, destitute as she is of the blessings of\nknowledge, becomes the mother of several children, she is raised to the\nrank of a governess, or in other words, she becomes a _ghinni_, or head\nof the family. To all intents and purposes, she seems to understand her\nduties so thoroughly that almost instinctively she exercises a salutary\ncontrol over a number of young girls, newly married, corrects all\nimproprieties of conduct, and teaches them to cherish feelings of mutual\nkindness, love and affection.\n\nIn many cases, however, it must be acknowledged, the custom of several\nfamilies--all branches of the same stem,--living together under one\nroof, is a fruitful source of evil, often embittering the sweet\nenjoyments of a peaceful conjugal life. Where there is no harmony among\nthe several female members of a family, the slightest misunderstanding\noccasions bitterest quarrels, especially when there is no recognised\n_ghinni_ or female head to check the same, or reconcile the parties by\nmatronly advice. For instance, if one son in a family be well-to-do in\nthe world, and another does not possess the same advantages, it is ten\nto one but that the wife of the former constantly advises him to mess\nseparately, if not to remove to a different house, and as unequal\ncombination is always disadvantageous to the weaker side, the latter has\nto put up with slights and indignities which are oftentimes unbearable,\nand terminate in a separation either in food or domicile, or both. It is\na well established fact that a woman is the principal cause of a\ndisruption between brothers and other members of a family. Though she is\nmild, soft, kind and flexible, yet she belies her nature when sordid\nself and mean avarice exert a dominant sway over her mind. Stinted in\nher culture and contracted in her views, Mammon is her god, and she\nlooks to the welfare of her husband and her own children as the chief\nend of her existence. She is naturally loath to give a share of the\naffection of her husband to a rival; she also cannot brook the idea of\nfrittering his earnings among his kindred. I have known of the most\naffectionate and devoted of brothers not being able to see each other's\nface under the all powerful influence of petticoat government. A\nEuropean becomes a housekeeper as soon as he marries. The arrangement is\nan excellent one, no doubt, and as educated Hindoos are very much\ndisposed to imitate English manners, the practice where feasible is\ngradually gaining ground, despite the prevalence of the old patriarchal\nsystem throughout the greater portion of the country. There is a common\nnative saying, which runs thus: \"as many brothers, so many abodes.\" It\nis to a certain extent a striking illustration of the existing state of\nthings; harmony and peace can scarcely be found in a family where\nbrothers are swayed, as they must be, by the irresistible influence of\ntheir wives.[105] To the credit of the patriarchal system, there still\nexist in every part of the country numerous families that scout the idea\nof a segregation.\n\nTurning from the dark to the bright side of the picture, it is\ngratifying to observe that of late years, attention has been directed\nto, and laudable exertions are being made for, the education of Hindoo\nfemales. Nothing can compare in importance with the steady progress of\nthis movement. After the movement had been begun by the Missionary\nSocieties, the late Hon. Mr. Drinkwater Bethune gave an important\nimpetus to this noble cause from the side of Government. These examples\nhave since been followed up by other devoted friends of native\nimprovement, and the Government has fully recognised the paramount\nimportance of the object. This combination of efforts has already\nproduced the most gratifying results. That there is a growing desire for\nlearning among the females by the study of such elementary books,\nBengallee and English, as have a tendency to improve their\nunderstanding, is a patent fact. Not only young girls, whose age permits\nthem to attend schools, but grown up ladies, who are confined within the\nprecincts of a zenana, are alike influenced by this commendable desire.\nAlmost every respectable Hindoo family in Calcutta has a Christian\ngoverness, who besides giving primary and Bible instruction, teaches all\nsorts of needle-work--an art in which considerable progress has been\nmade within the last few years.[106] This is an indication of the growth\nof a refined taste which is a great step towards the cause of national\nimprovement. As we have said elsewhere, instead of spending their time\nin idle talk and unprofitable occupation, if not in unpleasant\ndissension, they now vie with each other in producing works of art and\nusefulness, and as a matter of course the annual distribution of rewards\nis a great incentive to exertion. It is devoutly to be wished that this\ndesire for learning and taste for works of art should gradually spread\nand be appreciated throughout the length and breadth of the land. In the\ninterior, however, the mass of the people of all ranks and of both sexes\nare still as remote from the influence of this improvement as they were\ncenturies ago.\n\nIt is a pity that Hindoo females are withdrawn from schools the moment\nthey are married; this is an insuperable obstacle to the full\ndevelopment of their mental powers. The progress made by some of them in\nthe zenana is really very creditable, and challenges the commendation of\nall who have the elevation of native female character at heart. They are\nnot only assiduous in the cultivation of feminine graces and\naccomplishments, but their superior grasp of thought and language rank\nthem among the literary women of their country. Some thirty years back\nthe Hindoo females of Bengal were immersed in ignorance; they were\nrepresented as degraded beings incapable of improvement; not one in a\nthousand could read or write; but since proper steps have been taken to\nremove this national reproach, they have evinced an ardent desire to\nenrich their minds by a course of study which, though not profound, is\nwell fitted to adorn female life. The English Church Mission, \"The\nScottish Ladies' Association,\" a department of the Church of Scotland\nMission, the Free Church Mission, the American Mission, &c. are all\ndoing an incalculable amount of good by their disinterested efforts to\nimpart the blessings of knowledge to such zenana females as are\nprecluded by being married from attending schools. The complete\nregeneration of India cannot be expected until the emancipation of the\nfemales is accomplished, practically proving to the world, as it has\nalready done in a very limited degree, the palpable absurdity of Manu's\ninterdictory edict, restraining them from cultivating their intellectual\npowers.\n\nAs a proof of the progress already made in the _higher_ branches of\nfemale education, it is gratifying to state that two young ladies passed\nthe First Arts' Examination of the Calcutta University at the end of\nlast year. One of these was trained in the Bethune School, and the other\nin the Free Church Normal School. This examination represents a very\nconsiderable amount of acquirement, and is next to the B. A. Several\nother female candidates also passed the Entrance or Matriculation\nExamination at the same time. Similar progress has been reported from\nthe Madras Presidency.\n\nAuthentic history furnishes abundant evidence of the prevalence of\nfemale education in the country to a considerable extent, until\nMahomedan oppression not only proscribed Hindoo women from pursuing a\nliterary career, but ultimately dragged them into a state of unhealthy\nseclusion for the preservation of their honor, which they valued more\nthan their very life. In Rajpootana every respectable female was\ninstructed to read and write. Of their intellectual endowments and\nknowledge of mankind, whoever has had opportunities of conversing with\nthem could not fail to form a favorable impression.[107]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[102] \"The Ghikers, a Scythic race, inhabiting the banks of the Indus,\nat an early period of history were given to infanticide\". \"It was a\ncustom,\" says Ferishta, \"as soon as a female child was born, to carry\nher to the market place, and there proclaim aloud, holding the child in\none hand, and a knife in the other, that any one wanting a wife might\nhave her; otherwise she was immolated. By this means they had more men\nthan women, which occasioned the custom of several husbands to one wife.\nWhen any husband visited her, she set up a mark at the door, which being\nobserved by the others, they withdrew till the signal was removed.\"\n\n[103] The Hindoo lawgivers, whatever their shortcomings in other\nrespects, showed a great insight into human nature when they looked more\nto women than men for the comparative stability of their doctrines. That\nthe perpetual ignorance of the former promises a permanent harvest of\ngain to the hierarchy, is quite evident. If a correct return were\navailable as to the number of pilgrims who periodically visit the\ndifferent holy places throughout the country, it would doubtless\nestablish the fact that upwards of two-thirds of such pilgrims are\nfemales. If it were not for their pertinacious adherence to their\ntraditional faith, the Brahminical creed, at least in the great centres\nof education, would have long since fallen into desuetude. The blind\nunquestioning faith of the female devotees in their gods and goddesses\nis the great secret of the very high estimation in which they are still\nheld. If we educate the females and gradually disabuse their minds of\nearly prejudices, we not only lay the axe at the very root of idolatry,\nbut pave the way for the ultimate recognition of the true religion.\n\n[104] The late Baboo Rajbullub Roy Chowdhry, of Baripore, a very wealthy\nzemindar, south of Calcutta, used, it was said, to bring up the girls of\nhis family, which was almost a small colony, in the art of cooking all\nsorts of native dishes, from the highly spiced _polowya_ to simple\n_dhall-bath_ and vegetable curry; he also taught them to bring up water\nfor culinary purposes from a tank inside of the house in silver _ghara_\nor pots. Though he possessed the most practical of all worldly\nadvantages,--the power of a purse,--yet he did not hesitate to initiate\nthe girls in the art of cooking, that they may be fully prepared to\nperform the duty in case of necessity. I can easily cite other instances\nof a similar nature, but I believe they are not necessary.\n\n[105] At the time of the _Churruck Poojah_ or swinging festival, which\ntakes place about the middle of April, the _Khasharees_ or Braziers of\nCalcutta are accustomed to make _Sungs_ or caricature-representations of\ndifferent sorts of familiar scenes, illustrative of the prevailing\nmanners of the present age. In many cases they hit off the mark so\nadmirably that they cannot fail to make a deep impression on the popular\nmind. Among other representations they once exhibited a caricature of a\nson taking a wife on his shoulder, while dragging a mother by a rope\nround her neck, exemplifying thereby the respective estimation in which\neach is held.\n\n[106] An annual fair or _mela_ is held near Calcutta, at which the best\nspecimens of needle-work executed by Hindoo females are exposed to\npublic view, and prizes awarded by European and Native gentlemen. Great\ncredit is due to Baboo Nobo Gopal Mitter, the editor of the National\nPaper, for this annual exhibition. Unfortunately the _mela_ is\nlanguishing for want of sufficient public support.\n\n[107] \"I have conversed for hours,\" says Colonel Tod, \"with the Boondi\nqueen-mother on the affairs of her government and welfare of her infant\nson, to whom I was left guardian by his dying father. She had adopted me\nas her brother: but the conversation was always in the presence of a\nthird person in her confidence, and a curtain separated us. Her\nsentiments shewed invariably a correct and extensive knowledge, which\nwas equally apparent in her letters, of which I had many. I could give\nmany similar instances. The history of India is filled with anecdotes of\nable and valiant females. Ferishta in his history gives an animated\npicture of _Durgavati_, queen of Gurrah, defending the rights of her\ninfant son against Akbar's ambition. Like another Boadicea, she headed\nher army, and fought a desperate battle with Asoph Khan, in which she\nwas wounded and defeated; but scorning flight, or to survive the loss of\nindependence, she, like the Roman of old in a similar predicament, slew\nherself on the field of battle.\"\n\nThe accomplished Maharatta lady--Roma Bai--who lately visited Calcutta,\naffords a remarkable example of an educated Hindoo woman. She is an\nexcellent Sanskrit scholar, well read in _Sreemut Bhagabat_. Several\nPundits were astonished at her wonderful acquirements.\n\n\n\n\nXVIII.\n\nPOLYGAMY.\n\n\nIn this, as well as in some other eastern countries, polygamy has from\ntime out of mind been in existence. That it is subversive of moral order\nand of conjugal felicity, is admitted by all who have paid the slightest\ndegree of attention to the very many evil consequences of this abnormal\ninstitution. It is a violation of a just and divine law, opposed to the\nnurture and education of children, and inconsistent with the due\nequality of the sexes. In every country where this obnoxious practice\nprevails, and is dignified with the hallowed name of a social and\nreligious ordinance, as is done in India, woman occupies a degraded\nposition, and society is rude and unexpansive in its character. The most\nheinous crimes are committed without remorse, and conscience is seared,\nas it were, with a red-hot iron. \"Nature has designed woman to be the\nequal of man as a moral and intellectual being; and confined to the\nexercise of her own proper duties as a wife and mother, she is placed in\na favourable position as relates to her own happiness and the happiness\nof her husband.\" Much of the civilization of Europe is due to the high\nposition of the fair sex in the social scale. Their education, their\ncapacity for rearing their children in orderly and virtuous habits,\ntheir elevated conceptions of a Supreme Being, their social and domestic\nmanners, the purity of their lives, their natural tenderness and\naffection, their freedom, and the moral influence of their actions on\nsociety, give them a rank in no way inferior to that of the other sex.\nBut in this country, it is painful to realise that they are not only\ndenied the inestimable blessings of a good education but that their\nfirst lawgiver has condemned them to a state of abject servitude.\n\"Women have no business\" says Manu, \"with the text of the Veda, this is\nthe law fully settled: having, therefore, no evidence of law, and no\nknowledge of expiatory texts, sinful women must be as foul as falsehood\nitself; and this is a fixed rule. Through their passion for men, their\nmutable temper, their want of settled affection, and their perverse\nnature, (let them be guarded in this world ever so well,) they soon\nbecome alienated from their husbands.\" Manu allotted to such women \"a\nlove of their bed, of their seat, and of ornament, impure appetites,\nwrath, weak flexibility, desire of mischief and bad conduct. Day and\nnight must women be held by their protectors in a state of dependence.\"\nApart from their practically servile condition, the apparent complacence\nwith which polygamy is tolerated, and the facility with which a\nplurality of wives can be obtained, are circumstances which poison the\nperennial source of conjugal felicity, reduce them to a state of moral\nand intellectual degradation, and sap the very foundation of virtue. \"A\nbarren wife,\" says Manu, \"may be superseded by another in the eighth\nyear; she whose children are all dead, in the tenth; she who brings\nforth only daughters, in the eleventh year; she who speaks unkindly,\nwithout delay.\" Bullal Sen, who, if I mistake not, had first established\nthe system of _Koolinism_ in Bengal, and prescribed certain rules in\nfavor of polygamy, was singularly deficient in foresight and wisdom when\nhe entirely overlooked the evil consequences inseparable from this\nmonstrous matrimonial arrangement, so pregnant with mischief in whatever\naspect we view it. Any artificial institution which is subversive of\ndivine law will, in the main, prove highly unfavourable to the best\ninterests of society. The marriage of a man with but one wife is an\narrangement which should never be departed from. To dispose of the\nministering angels of our existence, without the slightest regard to\ntheir future happiness, and yoke them to an unprincipled libertine, or\na Koolin perhaps on the verge of his grave, is a system alike\ndestructive of all social, benevolent and humane feelings. A Koolin has\nno regard, much less sympathy, for any one of his numerous wives, on the\ncontrary he looks to them for gain and other worldly advantages. It is a\nnotorious fact that Koolin wives after their marriage almost invariably\nlive with their parents, thus virtually closing all avenues to the\ngrowth of affection between the husband and wife. The one is as\nestranged from the other as if there had been no bond of union between\nthem. As the temptations to vicious indulgences are so very powerful and\nnumerous in this wicked world of ours, the unscrupulous Koolin females\nof the sacerdotal class often sacrifice chastity at the altar of\nsensuality. The perpetration of the most horrible crimes is the\nnecessary effect. The fault does not rest so much with the poor\nunfortunate females as with the diabolical system which openly tolerates\nand religiously upholds polygamy. That it is an unnatural state, even\nthe most thoughtless will readily admit. In every case it is the source\nof perpetual disputes and misery. Domestic happiness can have no place\nin a family in which more than one wife lives. I have known many a\nperson who under the impulse of passion had entered into this unnatural\nstate deplore it as the greatest of all domestic afflictions. Even\nseparate cook rooms, separate apartments, and separate _mehals_, and\ndining and sleeping alternately with two wives with the greatest\npunctuality, and giving the same set of ornaments to both, were not\nenough to ensure harmony, peace and tranquillity. Indeed it has become a\nproverb among the Hindoos, that \"one wife would rather go with her\nhusband to the gloomy regions of _yama_ (Pluto) than see him sit with\nthe other.\" As has already been described, a tender girl of five years\nof age is, as her _first_ instruction before emerging from her nursery,\ninitiated into the _Brata_ or religious vow of _Sayjooty_, the primary\nobject of which is the ruin and destruction of a _Sateen_ or rival wife.\nThe germs or jealousy against, and contempt for, a rival being thus sown\nso early, they take deep root and expand in time so as to become\nabsolutely ineradicable.\n\nWhen the presence of two wives in the same house is attended with so\nmuch disquietude, the evil arising from the practices of professional\nKoolins is much greater. They are married to a number of females whose\nprospect of connubial bliss is as remote as the poles are asunder.\nInstead of true love and genuine attachment, the legitimate conditions\nof matrimony, the natural apathy of the husband is often requited by the\ninfidelity of his numerous wives; nor can it be otherwise, the visits of\nthe husband being, like those of a meteor, few and far between. Being\ndestitute of the finer susceptibilities of human nature, and looking\nupon matrimony as a matter of traffic, he regards his wives as so many\nautomata whose happiness is not at all identified with his own.\nInfluenced by a sordid love of gain, bred and brought up in the lap of\nignorance and laziness, and pampered by effeminate habits, he leads a\nprofligate life typical of utter demoralisation. He cares as little for\nthe chastity of his wives as a child does for the nicety of his\nplaythings. By rank, profession and habit he is a debauchee. His sense\nof female honor is totally blunted. The thought of nurturing and\neducating his numerous children never enters into his mind. He knows not\nhow many sons and daughters he has, whether legitimate or illegitimate;\nhe is not capable of recognising them, simply because he has seldom or\nnever seen their faces. If he keep a register of the number of his\nwives, he keeps no record of the number of his children. When he wants\nmoney, he pounces on such a father-in-law as can satisfy him. If he keep\none wife at home, it is not from warmth of affection that he does so,\nbut merely for his own convenience and comfort; she is made to discharge\nall the menial offices of a domestic maid-servant. Though never placed\nin affluent circumstances, yet he is the lord of thirty, forty or fifty\nwomen. It has been very aptly remarked by an eminent writer who had paid\nmuch attention to the manners and customs of the Hindoos,--that \"amongst\nthe Turks, seraglios are confined to men of wealth, but here, a Hindoo\nBrahmin, possessing only a shred of cloth and a piece of thread,\n(_poita_) keeps more than a hundred mistresses.\" Indeed such a system of\nmonstrous polygamy is without a parallel in the history of human\ndepravity. Prostitution, adultery, and the horrible crime of the\ndestruction of the foetus in the womb by means of deleterious drugs\nadministered by old women, are the inevitable consequences of this\nunnatural state of things. It is an undeniable fact that the daughters\nof Koolin Brahmins, abandoned by their unprincipled husbands, are often\nled into the forbidden paths of life, partly through the impulse of\npassion amidst the seductions of a wicked world, and partly through\ntheir exceedingly miserable circumstances. The houses of ill fame in\nCalcutta and other large towns are filled with women of this infamous\ncharacter, and the inhuman practice of _patefalano_ prevails to an\nalarming extent, notwithstanding the increased vigilance of the police.\nSome fifty years ago a number of respectable Hindoos felt so disgusted\nat the mischievous tendency of the Koolin system of marriage that they\nwere on the eve of memorialising the Government to put down the practice\nby a legislative enactment, such as had been done in the prohibition of\n_sati_ or female immolation, but they were assured that the authorities\nwould not interfere in the domestic and social usages of the people.\n\nIt is gratifying to observe, however, that the growth of intelligence\nand the march of intellect has of late years greatly counteracted the\ninfluence of this monstrous evil. If the Rulers will not attempt to\nabolish a social system opposed to the feelings of natural affection by\nthe denunciation of the severest temporal penalties, the good sense of\nthe people who are victimised by it must be appealed to for its total\nsuppression.\n\nThe following extract from Mr. Ward's excellent work on the Hindoos will\ngive the reader an idea of the fearful extent to which Koolinism\nprevailed in Bengal some fifty or sixty years back, when English\neducation could scarcely be said to have commenced the work of\nreformation or rather disintegration.\n\n\"Notwithstanding the predilection for _koolins_ they are more corrupt in\ntheir manners than any of the Hindoos. I have heard of a Koolin Brahmin,\nwho, after marrying sixty-five wives, carried off another man's wife, by\npersonating her husband. Many of the Koolins have a numerous posterity.\nI select five examples, though they might easily be multiplied: Oodhoy\nChunder, a Brahmin, late of Bagnapara, had sixty-five wives, by whom he\nhad forty-one sons, and twenty-five daughters. Ramkinkur, a Brahmin,\nlate of Kooshda, had seventy-two wives, thirty-two sons, and\ntwenty-seven daughters. Vishnooram, a Brahmin, late of Gundulpara, had\nsixty wives, twenty-five sons and fifteen daughters. Gouree Churn, a\nBrahmin, late of Treebanee, had forty-five wives, thirty-two sons, and\nsixteen daughters. Ramakant, a Brahmin, late of Bhoosdaranee, had\neighty-two wives, eighteen sons and twenty-six daughters; this man died\nabout the year 1810, at the age of 85 years or more, and was married,\nfor the last time, only three months before his death. Most of these\nmarriages are sought after by the relations of the female, to keep up\nthe honor of their families; and the children of these marriages\ninvariably remain with their mothers, and are maintained by the\nrelations of these females. In some cases, a Koolin father does not know\nhis own children.\"\n\nNot only the rules of caste, but _poverty_ is also a great barrier to\nthe marriage of Koolin women, a fact which has been very feelingly\ndeplored in the following lines. Maidenly anxiety finds a natural vent\nin them:--\n\n  \"Out spake the bride's sister,\n  As she came frae the byre,\n  O! gin I were but married,\n  It's a' that I desire;\n  But we poor folk maun live single,\n  And do the best we can,\n  I dinna care what I should want\n  If I could but get a man.\n  Another, and O! what will come o' me!\n  And O! what will I do?\n  That sic a braw lassie as I\n  Should die for a wooer, I trow.\"\n\nWhen Bullal Sen first introduced this obnoxious system, which went under\nthe euphonious title of the Order of Merit, he little anticipated that\nthe very small seed of mischief he then planted would soon grow into a\nluxuriant tree, and produce an abundant crop of evils, poisoning the\nvery source of domestic felicity. It requires no depth of thought to\npredict that the evil is destined to die a natural death, as all such\nsocial evils are fated to do, when ignorance and superstition are driven\ninto their congenial darkness. Though many a Hindoo still lives in the\nsin of polygamy without any particular repentance, yet the irresistible\nprogress of virtue, like that of truth, will ultimately teach him that\nit is an unsafe foundation on which to build the sober structure of\ndomestic happiness.\n\nThe details of the following conversation between a husband, his old\nmother, and his two wives, placed at the disposal of the writer by a\nfriend, may, he trusts, not be out of place:--\n\n\"What is this noise for,\" exclaims Radhamoney, a widow, (the name of the\nmother) coming out of the _thacoor ghur_ in which she was worshipping;\n\"this noise, this tumult, this quarrel, this wringing of the hands,\nthese curses will surely drive away Luckhee from the house, it is\nenough to make the devil fly; you have lost every sense of shame, _mago\nma_, your clamour has deafened my ears, where shall I go? one is apt to\nleave her clothes behind. You have been served right; it was only the\nother day that Grish, (name of the son) lost 5,000 Rupees in a case at\nthe Burra Adawlut (High Court.) If I be a _Sati_ (chaste woman), I say,\nyou two women (pointing to the two wives) will be beggared and reduced\nto the condition of _harrees_ (those who carry night soil); in what\nunlucky hour did these two women enter the house. You are both\n_Rakhasees_ (female cannibals.) Day by day, sorrow is eating into the\nvitals of my son, his golden body is being darkened every day; Oh!\n_Bidhata_ (God) you have ordained this for me?\" \"Ullungo (name of the\nmaid-servant) what is the cause of this uproar?\" asks the mother. \"_Ma_,\nwhat will I say,\" replies the maid-servant; \"the cook _first_ gave the\n_vath_, boiled rice to Comul,\" (name of the daughter of the first wife).\n\"Is this all? nothing more?\" continues the mother; \"my Bacha (child) has\nhad no food for seven days, being ill with fever. You all know this; the\n_kobeeraj_ (physician) this morning has ordered some rice for her,\nwhereupon the second wife, all this while roaring and bawling, cursing\nand swearing, stepped forward and said, it is past nine and my Hurree\n(her son's name, 12 years old) has not yet got a morsel, his belly has\nshrunk, and the school time is come; if late, his master will make him\nstand.\" Radhamoney, the old mother, or _ghini_, sent for the cook, and\nenquired if the rice were ready. \"Yes, _ma_, Hurree Baboo came into the\ncook room half an hour ago, and I asked him to take his meal; _chotta\nma_ (second wife) prevented him, because I _first_ gave the rice to\nComul who was so long ill.\" \"Where is Hurree now?\" enquired the old\nlady. The maid-servant replied \"_Chotta ma_ gave him a few pice and told\nhim to go to his school, though he could have eaten rice if he liked.\"\n\"Let Grish return home,\" added the old lady, \"and I will tell him to\nsend me to Benares without delay; I am sick of your incessant broils;\nfor giving Comul rice _first_ you two _bous_ fell into a quarrel, and\ncursed each other so fearfully that you, _burra bou_ (first wife), ate\nthe head of Hurree, and you, _chotta bou_ (second wife), ate the head of\nComul's husband.\"[108]\n\nIt was evening, and Grish, the son, returned home from office. Before he\nhad time to take off his office dress, the old mother, impatient to tell\nhim what had occurred during the day, and with tears in her eyes, thus\naddressed him: \"You, my son, have brought the greatest curse on yourself\nby marrying two wives; to-day the whole family has been starving, and\nwhy? because Comul, suffering from fever for the last eight days, had\ngot a little rice this morning, and she ate _first_; _chotta bou_,\ntherefore, prevented her son from eating anything, and sent the little\n_bacha_ to the school without rice. From what _pajee_ (mean) families\nhave you brought these two females? I can no longer remain in the house.\nUnder the slightest pretext, like infamous wenches, they not only brawl\nbut curse each other and the son and son-in-law into the bargain. Can\nLuckhee dwell in such a house? send me to Benares instantly, I can no\nlonger live in such a hell of a place. Your wives have made it a regular\nhell.\" The son consoles the old mother, promising that everything would\nbe done according to her wish, begging her at the same time to eat\nsomething, and adding that he does not mind whether his two wives eat or\nnot. After going through the evening service, he slept outside that\nnight, pondering what should be done for the future quiet of the family.\nNext day he removed the first wife to her father's house, because the\nsecond wife is always the _Zuburdust_, imagining that one hand can never\nmake a clap. But he was sadly mistaken, the deserted wife, continually\nbrooding over her misfortune, at length resolved to put an end to her\nexistence, and accordingly one night took an overdose of opium, and bade\na final adieu to the world.\n\nThe above story is founded on real life and should serve as a warning to\nthose who under the impulse of passion blindly run into a state of\npolygamy, which is undoubtedly one of the greatest domestic evils among\nthe natives.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[108] Eating the head means wishing death. When two rival wives fall out\nthey literally become frantic through anger and jealousy. With shaking\nhands and dishevelled locks they abuse and curse each other most\nviolently.\n\n\n\n\nXIX.\n\nHINDOO WIDOWS.\n\n\nThe system of early marriage, and the barbarous institution of\ncondemning a Hindoo female to a life of perpetual widowhood after the\ndeath of her husband, are evils which cannot be too strongly deprecated.\nIn this country, owing to the prevalence of early marriage and the\nmanner in which it is consummated, a Hindoo does not become a\nhousekeeper immediately after his marriage. The wife generally remains\none or two years with her parents, occasionally going to her\nfather-in-law's house for a few days only; her husband pays her a visit\nnow and then, but not without the special invitation of his\nmother-in-law. The object of such an invitation is evidently to make the\nson-in-law behave well towards her daughter. For the attainment of this\nobject, as I have described before, no means is left untried. Indeed it\nhas become a proverb among the Hindoos that when a man fares\nsumptuously, it is said, he has been fed with all the fondness shown to\na son-in-law. It has always struck me that if a Hindoo female were\npermitted to re-marry after the death of her first husband, the\naffection of a mother-in-law for a son-in-law would not have been so\nwarm as it now is under the existing state of things, which admits of no\nalternative.\n\nLiving under the paternal roof for one or two years after her marriage,\na Hindoo girl sometimes becomes a widow,[109]--a state of life which is\nunspeakably miserable. When a young female of ten or eleven years of age\nloses her husband, with whom perhaps she had scarcely ever exchanged a\nsingle word, she is quite unconscious of the unmitigated misery she is\nfated to endure for the remainder of her long existence.[110] Deplorable\nas such a condition undoubtedly is, it becomes doubly miserable from the\ncold, uncongenial and unsympathetic atmosphere by which she is\nsurrounded, and the uncared-for neglect with which she is treated ever\nafterwards. Except a mother, who can adequately conceive the thousand\nand one miseries which are in store for the daughter? It is a gloomy\npicture from the beginning to the end, and the gloom deepens as time\nrolls over her devoted head. Cursed be the name of the lawgiver who has\nmade such a cruel ordinance, and cursed the society that has become a\nthrall to it! Opposed to the feelings of humanity and natural affection,\nthe divine lawgiver of the Hindoos, Manu, expressly enjoins that\n\"although the state of widowhood might be deemed onerous by the fair sex\nof the west, it would be considered little hardship in the east. Let her\nemaciate her body, by living voluntarily on pure flowers, roots and\nfruits, but let her not, when her lord is deceased, even pronounce the\nname  of another man. A virtuous wife ascends to heaven, if, after the\ndecease of her lord, she devote herself to pious austerity; but a\nwidow, who slights her deceased husband by _marrying again_, brings\ndisgrace on herself here below and shall be excluded from the seat\nof her lord. Abstinence from the common pursuits of life, and\nentire self-denial, are rewarded by high renown in this world, and in\nthe next the abode of her lord, and procure for her the title of\n_sadhvi_ or the virtuous.\" From the above it is evident that widowhood\nhas prevailed in this country from time out of mind. Its mischievous\ntendency is apparent in the degraded and corrupt state of female\nsociety. We can never thoroughly conquer nature; we can never restrain\nour passions so effectually as to render ourselves proof against\ntemptation. The frailty of women is admittedly great, and the ease with\nwhich they may be seduced into the forbidden paths of life is too\nwell-known to need being enlarged on. However sedulously a Hindoo mother\nmay guard the virtue of her widowed daughter, and however forcibly she\nmay inculcate the doctrine of purity of life and manners, it proves but\na feeble barrier against the irresistible impulse of passion. Numerous\ninstances are on record, proving the utter futility of human efforts to\ncontend successfully against nature in this respect. A young widow may\nbe sent to the holy cities of Benares and Brindabun, where she is not\nunfrequently removed with her mother or grandmother to spend the\nremainder of her days in a state of isolated seclusion and religious\nservice, but this is a poor safeguard for the preservation of constancy\nand virtue. Volumes after volumes have been written on the subject,\ndenouncing in an unmistakable manner the monstrous perversity of the\nexisting system, but the evil has taken such a deep root in the social\neconomy of the people that the utmost exertions must be put forth before\nit can be wholly eradicated.\n\nThe evils of widowhood are not only confined to the endurance of\naccumulated hardships, and self-denials enough to rend asunder the\ntenderest chord of humanity, but they likewise extend to unlawful\nconnections, and the perpetration of another crime, that of abortion,\nwhich is no less revolting in enormity than infanticide itself. Many\nrespectable families, which are otherwise esteemed for their meritorious\nactions, have more or less sunk in honor from this indelible stigma; a\nfew have even lost their caste and status in society from the above\ncause. In the primitive state of Hindoo society, when every female other\nthan a wife was regarded either as a mother or sister according to age,\nirregular intercourse was almost unknown, but in these days of\nlibertinism perfect purity of life is rarely known. Our divine lawgiver,\nin view to the interests of humanity and female honor, ought to have\nmade proper provision by lending his authority and sanction to a system\nof widow remarriage within a reasonable period of life. Some such edict\nwould have been alike honorable to our venerable sage, and beneficial to\nthose who are morally and socially most deeply interested in it; but\nunfortunately his cruel dicta, running counter to the fundamental\nprinciples of virtue and morality, have necessarily engendered a rank\ncrop of evils, undermining the very foundation of human happiness.\n\nThe benevolent exertions of that high priest of Nature, Pundit Isswara\nChunder Vidyasagar, Baboo Keshub Chunder Sen, the Brahmo apostle, and\nother Hindoo reformers, to promote the cause of widow marriage in\nparticular, and female emancipation in general, have not, it is sad to\ncontemplate, been attended with the measure of success they deserve,\nsimply because the state of Hindoo society is not yet ripe for the\ninnovation. I am, however, sanguine in my expectation that at no very\ndistant future the progress of enlightenment will ultimately bring about\nthe consummation so devoutly to be wished for. It is for the advanced\npioneers to endeavour to remove the incrustation which age and learning\nhave formed and tradition and custom enshrined with jealous and sedulous\ncare. Until this is done, a Hindoo widow must continue to mourn her lot\namidst the denunciations of a heartless world. Sighs will never cease\nflowing from her heart so long as she finds herself deprived of the\nmaster charm of life. She is now cast amongst the dregs and tatters of\nhumanity. Bereft of the _substance_ of what endears life to a female,\nshe is constrained to cleave to the _shadow_, which is destined to leave\nher when she leaves the light of life. Losing all hope of worldly\nenjoyments, she deposits the treasures of her heart in the sanctuary of\nreligion, convinced that to sell the world for the life to come is\nprofitable. It is terrible to contemplate the awful amount of physical\nand mental suffering with all its varied complications, to which she is\ndoomed; her life is a steadfast battle against misery, her soul soars in\na vacuum where all is unreal, empty and hollow, and all the sweet\nenjoyments of life fall flat on her taste. Her mental strife is never\nover. She is like a weary swimmer who throws himself back and floats,\nbecause he is too much exhausted to swim longer, yet will not sink and\nlet the cold and merciless water close over his head. Her spirit has\nbroken wildly loose from its normal attitude, and her mind is\noverwhelmed in a surging tide of misery. From the day she loses her\nhusband, she has a new lease of life, and a miserable lease it must be.\nShe will not cease to lament until her soul itself shall die. If she\ncould say, joy was once her portion, it lighted on her as the bird rests\non the tree in passing and takes wing, yet she would now say, her\nexistence is so unlife-like that to her death is sweet. She is a poor\nfallen outcast of humanity. No one can enter into her feelings and views\nof things. She has no influence, no control over herself, she cannot\nturn over a new leaf within her own mind. Though society is almost a\nnecessity of our existence, yet she lives wholly alone; a cheerless\ntrain of thoughts always haunts her mind, she feels a dismal void in her\nheart, she finds herself cut off at once and for ever from one most dear\nto her, no conversation, however pleasant, can bring her consolation or\ncheat her grief. The tide of settled melancholy threatens her reason. As\nan outcast, she is religiously forbidden to take a part in any of the\nsocial and domestic concerns of life, tending to relieve the ennui of a\nwearisome existence, and to enliven the mind for a while. She is a\nliving example of an angel sent by heaven to minister to the comforts of\nman, turned by a cruel institution into a curse. Estranged from the\naffection of those who are, by the ties of consanguinity, nearest and\ndearest to her, she passes her days like a recluse, quite apart from the\ncommunion of society. She stares and gazes wildly at every festive\ncelebration, while, as the poet sings,\n\n  \"The glad circle round them yield their souls\n  To festive mirth and wit that knows no gall.\"\n\nIf she have longings irrepressible and cravings insatiable to lend her\nhand to any _shoova karma_ (meritorious work), her widowed condition\ninterposes an insurmountable barrier to her participation therein, as if\neverything would be desecrated when touched by her polluted hand.\n\nAs a sentient being, endowed with all the finer susceptibilities of\nhuman nature, is it possible that she should so far forget herself as\nnot to feel the bitterest pangs of despondency at her hopelessly forlorn\ncondition? Driven from the genial atmosphere of a social circle, she\ndrags a loathsome existence in this selfish and unsympathetic world.\nExcept she that gave her birth, who would deign to look upon her with\nlove and affection? Instead of being regarded, as she assuredly should\nbe, as the soul of simplicity, a living picture of sweet innocence, she\nis shunned as one whose very presence portends evil. If she possess\nunaffected modesty and a keen sense of honor and virtue, who is to\nrecognise and appreciate those amiable qualities in a society which is\npreposterously estranged from all natural susceptibilities? If she have\nriches what would that avail her, a poor misguided victim of\nsuperstition![111] Her charity, instead of being founded on the catholic\nprinciples of genuine liberality shewing a discriminate breadth of view,\ntoo often exhibits an unhappy tenacity of adhesion to exclusiveness in\nthe performance of idolatrous ceremonies. If she is placed above the\natmosphere of artificialness, it is her misfortune to be surrounded by a\nconcatenation of conventional restrictions which render her life a\nvisible embodiment of helpless misery and anguish, and if she ever\nappeals, she appeals to the Being who is the only friend of the hopeless\nand the poor. To attempt to reconcile a widow to her forlorn lot is to\ntell a patient burning with fever not to be thirsty. Her days are\ndismal, her nights are dreary.\n\nIt was the dread of widowhood, and the unmitigated life-long miseries\ninseparable from it, that led fifty wives at a time to ascend the\nfuneral pyre of a Rajpoot husband, with all the composure of a\nphilosophic mind. It redounds greatly to the credit of the British\nGovernment that its generous exertions have not only struck the\ndeath-knell of this inhuman practice, even in the remotest corner of the\nEmpire, but, what is more commendable, endeavoured \"to heal the wounds\nof a country bleeding at every pore from the fangs of superstition.\"\n\nNot content with depriving her of the best enjoyments of life which\nsociety affords, and the laws of God sanction, by condemning her to a\nstate of perpetual widowhood, the great lawgiver--the unflinching foe of\nfreedom in females--has further enjoined the strict observance of\ncertain practices that add gall to her already overflowing cup of\nmisery. As has been observed before, she is restricted to one scanty\nmeal a day, always of the coarsest description, devoid of fish[112]\nwhich is generally more esteemed by an _ayistree_ lady than any other\narticle of food in her bill of fare. She must religiously fast on every\n_ekadossee_, twice a month, and on all other popular religious\ncelebrations. She must bare her body of all sorts of ornaments, even the\n_iron_ and the _gold_ bangles, which once constituted the _summum bonum_\nof her life. As an appropriate substitute for the gold and pearl\nnecklaces, she is enjoined to wear a _toolsee mala_ (a basilwood\nchaplet), and count a _toolsee_ wood bead roll for the final rest of her\nsoul. She is prohibited from wearing any bordered clothes, a _thayti_\nbeing her proper garment; she is not permitted to daub her forehead with\n_sidoor_, (vermillion), once the pride of her life when her lord was\nalive; she is forbidden to use any bazar-made article of food, and to\ncomplete the catalogue of restrictions she sometimes shaves her head\npurposely that she may have an ugly appearance and thereby more\neffectually repel the inroads of a wicked, seductive world.\n\nIf she have any children to nurture, the happy circumstance affords a\ngreat relief to her wearisomely monotonous life. Day and night she\nwatches them with great care, and looks forward to their progressive\ndevelopment with intense anxiety, forgetting in the plenitude of her\nsolicitude her own forlorn condition. Should there be any mishap in\ntheir case, it causes an irreparable break-down in her spirit, which is\nfor ever \"sicklied over with the pale cast of thought.\"\n\nIt is a painful fact that riches when not properly used have a tendency\nto corrupt the minds of human beings, and lead them from the path of\nvirtue to that of vice. A wealthy widow who has the command of a long\npurse more readily falls a prey to the temptations of the world than one\nwho, moving in an humbler sphere of life, has her mind almost wholly\nengrossed with domestic cares, and the thoughts of a future state of\nbeatitude. \"Verily,\" as Lord Lytton says, \"in the domain of poverty\nthere is God's word.\"\n\nConsidering the endless round of hardship and self abnegations to which\nshe is inevitably doomed by a terrible stroke of fortune, \"which scathes\nand scorches her soul,\" it is cheering to reflect that she so often\nshines brightest in adversity. Indeed she may be occasionally said \"to\ndie ten times a day,\" but her incredible powers of patient endurance,\ncoupled with her high sense of female honor, are deserving of the\nhighest admiration.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[109] Such a widow is called a _Korayraur_, or one who has never enjoyed\nthe company of her husband. A stronger term of female reproach can\nscarcely be found in the Hindoo vocabulary. From the day this terrible\nbereavement occurs she is constrained by conventional rules, in such\ncases, to put off from her hand the _iron bangle_, but owing to her\ntender age she is tacitly permitted to continue to wear the gold bangle\nand a bordered _Saree_ cloth. She is forbidden to use fish--her most\nfavorite dish,--and she must partially fast on every _ekadossee_, or\neleventh day of the increase or decrease of the moon. When she arrives\nat the age of twenty her life presents an unvaried picture of despair\nand wretchedness. She becomes a regular widow.\n\n[110] It has been justly remarked, and I believe is in most cases borne\nout by facts, that a Hindoo widow generally lives to a very long age.\nHer simple and abstemious habits, her devotional spirit, her scanty meal\nonce a day, her total abstinence from food of any kind on the eleventh\nday of the increase and decrease of the moon, besides other days of\nclose fast, neutralising in a great measure the effects of every kind of\nirregularity from whatever cause arising, and the fearful amount of\nhardships she is accustomed to endure, all contribute to prolong her\nexistence. Surely her life may be said to extend in the inverse ratio of\nher misery. It is a common expression used by a Hindoo widow, shewing\nher contempt of life, \"will she ever die? _Yama_, Pluto, seems to have\nforgotten her?\" If the statistics of the land are consulted, it will\nassuredly be found that Hindoo widows comparatively speaking enjoy a\nlonger life than the adult male population, because the latter is\nsubject to irregularities and other adverse contingencies of life which\nthe former is almost entirely free from. It is not uncommon to see a\nHindoo widow of eighty, ninety or a hundred years of age. In short,\nnature evidently seems to have exemplified in her the symbol of misery\nassociated with longevity.\n\nIt is also a remarkable fact that idolatry and superstition chiefly owe\ntheir continued influence to the wide-spread ignorance of these female\ndevotees. At a religious festival, nearly three-fourths of the assembly\nare composed of widows.\n\n[111] The worship of _Juggodhatri_ (mother of the world), is performed\nby a widow for four years successively to forfend the calamity in the\nnext birth.\n\n[112] It should be mentioned here that, except the widows of Brahmins\nand Kayestus of Bengal, those of lower orders continue to use fish\nwithout any scruple. It is a remarkable fact that Hindoo _women_ are\nmore fond of fish than _men_. There are some men, especially among the\n_Boystubs_, followers of Krishna, who feel an abhorrence to eat fish at\nall by reason of its offensive smell, but there is not a single woman\nwhose husband is alive that can live without it. When a girl becomes a\nwidow, she can hardly take half the quantity of boiled rice she was\naccustomed to take before for want of this, to her, necessary article of\nfood.\n\n\n\n\nXX.\n\nSICKNESS, DEATH, AND _SHRAD_, OR FUNERAL CEREMONY.\n\n\nAs I have said in the beginning that a Hindoo lives religiously and dies\nreligiously, so his last days are attended with a degree of melancholy\ninterest which is characteristic of the religion which he professes, as\nwell as of the race to which he belongs. When a Hindoo becomes seriously\nill, the first thing he does is to consult the Almanac as to the stellar\nmansion of the period, and engage the officiating priest to perform a\nseries of religious atonements, called _sastyana_, for the removal of\nthe evil spirit, and the restoration of health. Mornings and evenings\nare dedicated to the service, and the mother or the wife of the patient,\nas the case may be, makes a vow to the gods, promising to present\nsuitable offerings on his recovery, for which purpose a small sum of\nmoney is laid aside as a tangible proof of sincerity. If the patient\nshould be a useful member of the family, enjoying a good income, greater\nsolicitude is, as must naturally be expected, manifested for his sake\nthan for that of an unproductive member; it being not uncommon that a\nwhole family, consisting of eight or ten persons, male and female,\ndepend for their sustenance on the earnings of a single individual,--the\ninevitable result of a joint Hindoo family. It is customary among the\nHindoos, as it is among other civilized nations, that when a person is\nill, his friends and relatives come to see and console him. The sick man\ngenerally remains in the inner apartment of the house, where the\nfemales--the ministering angels of life--watch him and administer to his\ncomfort. When visitors enter the room, they go away for a time, but it\nmust be mentioned that they are not wanting in attention,\nkind-heartedness and careful nursing. Days and nights of watching pass\nover their heads without a murmur, prayers are continually offered to\nthe guardian deity for a favorable turn in the fortune of the family,\nand available supernatural agency is secretly employed for the\nattainment of the end. The following conversation will give some idea of\nthe melancholy scene:--\n\nRamkanto (a neighbour), enters the room, and gently accosts Mohun (the\nson of the patient.)\n\nRamkanto, sitting, asks How is your father? I see he is very much pulled\ndown; the times are very bad, I hear of sickness on all sides, when did\nhe get ill? Have you seen the almanac? Have you arranged for _sastyana_\n(religious atonement)? Don't you despair. He will get well through the\nblessing of God; who attends him?\n\nBrojobundhoo (doctor) replies Mohun.\n\nRamkanto. Yes, he is a good doctor, but you must have a good _Khobiraj_\nalso (native physician) who understands the _naree_ (pulse) well; these\nEnglish doctors do not much care about the pulse.\n\nMohun--Well, sir, I have engaged Gopeebullub (native physician) to feel\nthe pulse and watch the progress of the disease.\n\nRamkanto--That is good, Gopeebullub is a very clever physician, though\nnot old, he understands pulsation and other symptoms thoroughly. When\ndoes the fever come on? See, how he remains to-day; should the pulse\nsink after fever, send for an English doctor to-morrow, either Dr.\nCharles or Dr. Coates, both are very good doctors.\n\nMohun--My uncle gave the same advice.\n\nRamkanto, (taking Mohun aside) Baba, what will I say? To tell you the\ntruth, I have no very great hopes of his recovery, the case is serious,\nif through the blessing of God he gets well, it would be a _second_\nbirth; your father has been a great friend of mine, you all know very\nwell, he is a staunch Hindoo; in these days of depravity, when the\ncustoms of the _Mlechas_ (Christians) threaten to obliterate all traces\nof distinction, and merge everything in one homogeneous element after\nthe English fashion, very few men are to be found like your father,\nready to sacrifice his life for the purity of his religion; if his end\ndo not accord with his faith, his future state (_parakall_) is\njeopardised; you, young men may laugh at us, old fools, thinking we have\nno sense; a few pages of English do not make a man learned; English\nshastra does not make us wise unto salvation; one's own religion is the\nbest panacea for the good of his _parakall_ or future state. If you lose\nyour father, you will never get a father again, he has nourished you\nwith care and affection up to this day; as a dutiful son you are bound\nto serve him in this his last stage; you must be prepared to take him to\nthe river side when need be, and that is not far distant; if you\nneglect, you commit a very great sin, quite unpardonable. What do\nfathers and mothers wish children for? It is only for the good of the\n_parakall_, and to take them to Gunga (Ganges) in proper time. Let your\nfather pass three nights on the river side. I return this afternoon;\ntake care, watch him closely and let Gopeebullub see him constantly.\n\nGiving these instructions, Ramkanto goes away. After three or four\nhours, the fever returns, the patient becomes delirious and talks\nnonsense, and the wife becoming very uneasy calls the son in a very\ndepressed tone, and tells him to send for the English doctor. The son\nobeying the order sends for the English doctor at once.\n\nAfter an hour or so, in comes Dr. Charles accompanied by Baboo\nBrojobundhoo. Entering the sick man's room, Dr. Charles examines the\npatient carefully, asks Brojobundhoo what medicines he has been giving\nhim, (the women all the while peeping through the window, unable to\nunderstand what the doctors are talking about), and being satisfied on\nthis point, comes out and tells the son that his father is dangerously\nill, and that his friend's prescriptions are all right; he, Dr. Charles,\ncould not do better.\n\nHere enters Ramkanto with two other friends. Before going inside he thus\nspeaks to the son: I hear Dr. Charles was here, what did he say? How was\nthe fever to-day.\n\nMohun answers, Dr. Charles said father is very ill, the paroxysm to-day\nwas somewhat more violent than that of other days.\n\nRamkanto--That's bad; day by day the fever eats into the vitals of his\nsystem. (Here the native physician comes). Well, _Khobiraj Mohashoy_,\nplease go and see how the patient is doing? Gopeebullub (native\nphysician) goes inside, examines the sick man with great care, satisfies\nthe eager enquiries of the women by assuring them that there is no fear,\nand returns outside.\n\nRamkanto to Gopeebullub--How did you find him? Is the pulse in its right\nplace? Do you apprehend any immediate danger? Dr. Charles was here, you\nhave heard what he has said, whatever the youngsters may say, I have\ngreater confidence in you than in the English doctors; take good care\nand tell us the exact time when to remove the patient to the river side,\nthat is our last sacred office; should anything happen at home, which\nGod forbid, we shall never be able to show our faces through shame. What\nwith such a big son, and so many friends and relations, it would be a\ncrying shame if the patient die at home? Destiny will have its course\nbut your _hathjuss_ (skill) will go a great way.\n\nGopeebullub--Everything depends on the will of God, what can we mortals\ndo? Whatever fate has ordained must come to pass, we are mere\ninstruments in the hands of God; the patient is gradually sinking, the\npulse neither steady nor in its right place, we must be prepared for the\nworst, a _strong_ pulse in a _weak_ body is an ominous sign, there is no\nfear tonight, I can guarantee that.\n\nRamkanto--Well, it appears his end is nigh, he is no more destined to\nhave rice and water.[113] Then, pointing to Mohun, Ramkanto says,\nto-morrow morning his _Boyetarni_ rite[114] must be performed; make the\nnecessary preparations at once, and send a man to procure a cot\n(charpoy), also see that nothing may be wanting to hurry him to the\nriverside.\n\nMohun--I must do what you bid me do, hitherto I remained behind a\nmountain, now I shall be without protection.\n\nNext morning, the rite of _Boyetarni_ being performed, preparations are\nmade to carry the sick man to the river side: all the nearest relations\nand friends assemble, and the patient, then in the full possession of\nhis senses, is brought outside and laid on the _charpoy_; his forehead\nis daubed with the mud of the Ganges, and a _toolsee_ plant is placed\nabout his head. He is told to repeat the name of his guardian deity, and\none man going up to him says, let's go to visit the mother Gunga, at\nwhich he nods; this serves as a signal for lifting the _charpoy_, and\nputting it on the shoulders of four strong persons of equal size. The\nheart-rending scene that ensues hereupon among the females cannot be\nadequately described. Their falling on the ground, their loud and\naffecting cries, the tearing of their dishevelled locks, the wringing of\ntheir breast, the contortions of their bodies, all produce a mournful\nscene of anguish and despair which my feeble pen can hardly pourtray.\n\nThe sick man is thus carried, perhaps a distance of two or three miles,\nin a state of consciousness[115] exposed to all the dangers of\ninclement weather, fully aware of his approaching end, the carriers\nexchanging their shoulders every now and then, and shouting out every\nfive minutes, \"Hurry, Hurrybole, Gunga Narain, Brahma, Shiva Rama,\"\nuntil they reach their destination, which, in Calcutta, is Nimtollah\nGhaut, on the banks of the Hooghly.[116] When the _charpoy_ on which the\nsick man is borne is placed on the ground, some one calls out to the\npatient to see the sacred stream, which he does in a state of mind that\ncan be better imagined than described. On opening his eyes he beholds a\ndark, gloomy scene, the ghastliness of which is enough to strike horror\ninto the heart of the most callous and indifferent. Here a dying man\nsuffering from the convulsive agony of acute pain, is, perhaps, gasping\nfor breath, there a fellow mortal is taken in a hurry to the very edge\nof the holy water to breathe out the last flicker of life; to deepen the\ngloom perhaps a corpse borne on a Hindoo hearse is just brought to the\nGhaut amidst the vociferous cries of \"Hurry, Hurrybole,\" which is a\nsignificant death-warrant.\n\n            \"'Tis too horrible;\n  The weariest and most loathed earthly life\n  Which age, ache, penury, and imprisonment\n  Can lay on nature, is a paradise\n  To what we fear of death?\"\n\nCan imagination conceive a more dismal, ghastly scene? But religion has\ncrowned the practice with the weight of national sanction, and thus\ndeadened the finer sensibilities of our nature. Sad as this picture is,\nthe most staunch advocate of liberalism can hardly expect to escape such\na fate. To a person accustomed to such scenes, death, and its\nconcomitant agony, loses half its terrors. How many Hindoos are annually\nhurried to their eternal home by reason of this superstitious, inhuman\npractice? Instances are not wanting to corroborate the truth of this\npainful fact. Persons entrusted with the care and nursing of a dying man\nat the burning Ghaut soon get tired of their charge, and rather than\nadminister to his comfort, are known to resort to artificial means,\nwhereby death is actually accelerated. They unscrupulously pour the\nunwholesome, muddy water of the river down his already choked throat,\nand in some cases suffocate him to death. \"These are not the ebullient\nflashes from the glowing caldron of a kindled imagination,\" but\nundeniable facts founded on the realities of life.\n\nThe process of Hindoo _antarjal_ or immersion is another name for\nsuffocation. Life is so tenacious, especially in what the Hindoos call\n_old bones_, or aged persons, that I have seen some persons brought back\nhome after having undergone this murderous process nine or ten times in\nas many days. The patient, perhaps an uncared-for widow cast adrift in\nthe world, retaining the faculty of consciousness unimpaired, is willing\nto die rather than continue to drag on a loathsome existence, but nature\nwould not readily yield the vital spark. In spite of repeated murderous\nprocesses, the apparently dying flicker of life would not become\nextinct. In the case of an aged man, the return home after _immersion_\nis infamously scandalous, but in that of an aged widow the disgrace is\nmore poignant than death itself. I have known of an instance in which\nan old widow was brought back after fifteen _immersions_, but being\noverpowered by a sense of shame she drowned herself in the river after\nhaving lived a disgraceful life for more than a year. As I have observed\nelsewhere, no expression is more frequent in the mouth of an aged widow\nthan the following: \"Shall I ever die?\" Scarcely any effort has ever\nbeen made to suppress or even to ameliorate such a barbarous practice,\nsimply because religion has consecrated it with its holy sanction.\n\nBut to return to the thread of my narrative, the sick man dies after a\nstay of four days at the Ghaut, suffering perhaps the most excruciating\npangs and agony generally attendant on a deat-bed. The names of his gods\nare repeatedly whispered in his ears, and the consolations of religion\nare offered him with an unsparing hand, in order to mitigate his\nsufferings, and if possible to brighten his last hours. The corpse is\nremoved from the resting place to the burning Ghaut, a distance of a few\nhundred yards, and preparations for a funeral pile are speedily made.\nThe body is then covered with a piece of new cloth and laid upon the\npyre, the upper and lower part of which is composed of firewood,\nfaggots, and a little sandalwood and ghee to neutralize the effects of\neffluvia. The _Marooyapora_ Brahmin,[117] (an outcast) reads the\nformula, and the son or the nearest of kin sets fire to the pile; the\nbody is consumed to ashes, but the navel remaining unburnt is taken out\nand thrown into the river. Thus ends the ceremony of cremation; the son\nputting a few jars of holy water on the pile, bathes in the stream, and\nreturns home with his friends, changing his old garment for new white\nclothes, called _uttary_, on one end of which is fastened an iron key to\nkeep off evil spirits. It is worthy of remark here, that providence is\nso propitious to us in every respect that in a few hours the son becomes\nreconciled to his unhappily altered circumstances caused by the loss of\nhis father; instead of bemoaning his loss in a despondent frame of mind,\nhe is soon awakened to a sense of his new responsibility.\n\nOn reaching the gate of the house, all persons touch fire, and putting\n_neem_ leaves and a few grains of _kalie_ (a kind of pulse) into the\nmouth, cry out as before \"Hurrybole, Hurrybole\" and enter the house. The\nlamentation of the females inside the house, which was suppressed for a\nwhile through sheer exhaustion, is instantly renewed at the sound of\n\"Hurrybole,\" as if fresh fuel were added to the flame, and every voice\nis drowned in the overwhelming surge of grief. Their melancholy strain,\ntheir pointed, pathetic allusion to the bereavement, the cadence of\ntheir plaintive voices, the utter dejection of their spirit, their loud,\ndoleful cries reverberating from one side of the house to the other, the\nbeating of their breasts, and the tearing of their hair, are too\naffecting not to make the most obdurate shed tears of sorrow.\n\nThe son, from the hour of his father's death to the conclusion of the\nfuneral ceremony, is religiously forbidden to shave, wear shoes, shirts,\nor any garment other than the piece of white cloth, his food being\nconfined to a single meal consisting only of _atab_ rice, _khasury\ndhall_ (a sort of inferior pulse) milk, ghee, sugar and a few fruits,\nwhich must be cooked either by his mother or his wife; at night he takes\na little milk, sugar and fruits. This course of _regime_ lasts ten days\nin the case of a Brahmin, and thirty-one days in that of a\n_Soodra_.[118] Here the advantages of the privileged class are twofold;\n(1), he has to observe the rigid discipline for ten days only; (2), he\nhas ample excuse for small expenditure at the funeral ceremony on the\nscore of the shortness of time. This austere mode of living for a month\nin the case of a _Kayast_, by far the most aristocratic and influential\nportion of the Hindoo population, serves as a tribute of respect and\ngratitude to the memory of a departed father. As the country is now in a\ntransition state, a young educated Hindoo does not strictly abide by the\nabove rule, but breaks it privately in his mode of living, of which the\ninmates of the family only are cognisant. He repudiates publicly what he\ndoes privately. Thus the outer man and the inner man are not exactly one\nand the same being, he dares not avow without what he does within, in\nshort, he plays the hypocrite. But an orthodox Hindoo observes the rule\nin all its integrity, he is more consistent if not more rational, he\ndoes not play a double game, but conforms to the rules of his creed with\nscrupulous exactness.\n\nFifteen or sixteen days after the demise of his father, the son, if\nyoung, is assisted by his friends in drawing an estimate of the probable\ncost of the approaching _Shrad_ or funeral ceremony. In the generality\nof cases, an estimate is made out according to the length of the purse\nof the party; a few exceed it under a wrong impression that a debt is\nwarranted by the special gravity of the occasion, which is one of great\nmerit in popular estimation.[119]\n\nThe Sobha Bazar Rajah family, the Dey family of Simla, the Mullick and\nTagore families of Patooriaghatta, all of Calcutta, were said to have\nspent upwards of L20,000 or two lacks of Rupees each on a funeral\nceremony. They not only gave rich presents to almost all the learned\nBrahmins of Bengal, in money and kind, fed vast crowds of men of all\nclasses, but likewise distributed immense sums among beggars and poor\npeople,[120] who for the sake of one Rupee, walked a distance of perhaps\nthirty miles, bringing with them their little children in order to\nincrease their numerical strength. Some really destitute women, far\nadvanced in a state of pregnancy, were known to have been delivered in\nthe midst of this densely crowded multitude. Although, now-a-days, the\nauthorities do not sanction such a tumultuous gathering, or tolerate\nsuch a nuisance oftentimes attended with fatal accidents, no _Shrad_ of\nany note at all takes place without the assemblage of a certain number\nof beggars and paupers, who receive from two to four annas each.\n\nAfter the twentieth day, the son, accompanied by a Brahmin and a servant\nwho carries a small carpet for the Baboo to sit on, walks barefooted to\nthe house of each and every one of his relations, friends and\nneighbours, to announce that the _Shrad_ is to take place on such a day,\n_i. e._, on the thirty-first day after death, and to request that they\nshould honour him with their presence and see that the ceremony is\nproperly performed, adding such other complimentary epithets as the\noccasion suggests. This ceremonious visit is called _lowkata_, and those\nwho are visited return the compliment in time. The practice is deserving\nof commendation, inasmuch as it manifests a grateful remembrance for the\nmemory of one to whom he is indebted for his being.\n\nPrecisely on the thirtieth day, the son and other near relatives shave,\ncut their nails, and put on new clothes again, giving the old clothes to\nthe barber. Meantime invitations are sent round to the Brahmins as well\nas to the Soodras, requesting the favor of their presence at the _Sabha_\nor assembly on the morning of the _Shrad_, and at the feast on the\nfollowing day or days. On the thirty-first day, early in the morning,\nthe son, accompanied by the officiating priest, goes to the river side,\nbathes and performs certain preliminary rites. Here the _rayowbhats_ and\n_tastirams_ (religious mendicants), who watch these things just as\nclosely as a vulture watches a carcase, give him a gentle hint about\ntheir rights, and follow him to the house, waiting outside for their\nshare of the articles offered to the manes of the deceased. These men\nwere so troublesome or boisterous in former days, when the Police were\nnot half so vigilant as they now are, that for two days successively\nthey would continue to shout and roar and proclaim to the passers by\nthat the deceased would never be able to go into _Boykanta_ or paradise,\nand that his soul would burn in hell fire until their demands were\nsatisfied. Partly from shame, but more from a desire to avoid such a\nboisterous, unseemly scene, the son is forced to succumb and satisfy\nthem in the best way he can.\n\nAs the style of living among the Hindoos has of late become rather\nexpensive, and the potent influence of vanity--purely the result of an\nartificial state of society--exerts its pressure even on this mournful\noccasion, the son, if he be well to do in the world, spends from five to\nsix thousand Rupees on a _Shrad_; the richer, more. He has to provide\nfor the apparently solemn purpose the following silver utensils,\n_viz._:--_Ghara_, _Gharoo_, _Thalla_, _Batta_, _Battee_, _Raykab_,\nglass, besides couch, bedding, shawls, broadcloth, a large lot of brass\nutensils and hard silver in cash, all which go to pay the Brahmins and\nPundits, who had been invited. The waning ascendency of this privileged\nclass is strikingly manifest on an occasion of this nature. For one or\ntwo rupees they will clamour and scramble, and unblushingly indulge in\nall manner of fulsome adulation of the party that invited them.[121]\n\nThe Pundits of the country, however learned they may be in classical\nlore and logical acumen, are very much wanting in the rules of polished\nlife. The manner in which they display their profound learning is alike\npuerile and ludicrous. History does not furnish us with sufficient data\nregarding their conduct in ancient days. As far as research or\ninvestigation has elucidated the point, it is reasonable to conclude\nthat the ascendency of the Brahmins was built on the ignorance of the\npeople, and there is a very strong probability that there was a secret\ncoalition between the priests and the rulers for the purpose of keeping\nthe great mass of the nation in a state of perpetual darkness and\nsubjection, the latter being oftentimes content with the barter of\n\"solid pudding against empty praise.\" But the progress of enlightenment\nis so irresistible that the strongest bulwark of secret compact for the\nconservation of unnatural Brahminical authority is liable, as it should\nbe, to crumble into dust. It would be a great injustice to deny that\namong these Brahmins there were some justly distinguished for their\nprofound erudition and saintly lives; they displayed a piety, a zeal, a\nconstant and passionate devotion to their faith, which contrast\nstrangely enough with the profligacy and worldliness of the present\necclesiastics.\n\nThe Pundits of the present day, when they assemble at a _Shrad_--and\nthat is considered a fit arena for discussion--are generally seen to\nengage in a controversy, the bone of contention being a debatable point\nin grammar, logic, metaphysics or theology. They love to indulge in\nsentimental transcendentalism, as if utterly unconscious of the\nmatter-of-fact tendency of the age we live in. A strong desire of\ndisplaying their deep learning and high classical acquirements in\nSanskrit, not sometimes unmixed with a contemptible degree of\naffectation, insensibly leads them to violate the fundamental laws of\ndecorum. When two or more Pundits wrangle, the warmth of debate\ngradually draws them nearer and closer to each other, until from sober,\nsolid argumentation, they descend to the _argumentum ad ignorantiam_, if\nnot, to the _argumentum adbaculum_. Their taking a pinch of snuff, the\nquick moving of their hands, the almost involuntary unrobing of their\ngarment, which consists of a single _dhooty_ and _dubja_ often put round\nthe neck, the vehement tone in which they conduct a discussion, the\nutter want of attention to each other's arguments, and their constant\ndivergence from the main point whence they started, throw a serio-comic\nair over the scene which a Dave Carson only could imitate. They do not\nknow what candour is, they are immovable in their own opinion, and\nscarcely anything could conquer their dogged persistence in their own\nargument, however fallacious it may be. They are as prodigal in the\nquotation of specious texts in support of their own particular thesis as\nthey are obstinately deaf to the sound logical view of an opponent.\nBrahminical learning is certainly uttered in \"great swarths\" which, like\npolished pebbles, are sometimes mistaken for diamonds. The way in which\nthe disputants give flavour to their arguments is quite a study in the\nart of dropping meanings. The destruction of the old husks, and the\ntransparent sophistries, of the disputatious Brahmins, is one of the\ngreat marvels achieved by the rapid diffusion of Western knowledge.\n\nWhen engaged in an animated discussion, these Pundits will not desist or\nhalt until they are separated by their other learned friends of the\nfaculty. Some of them are very learned in the Shastra, especially in\n_Smrittee_, on which a dispute often hangs, but they have very little\npretension to the calm and dispassionate discussion of a subject.\nCogency of argument is almost invariably lost in the vehemence of\ndeclamation and in the utterance of unmeaning patter. Their arguments\nare not like Lord Beaconsfield's speeches,--a little labored and\nlabyrinthine at first, but soon working themselves clear and becoming\namusing and sagacious. Let it not be understood from this that the\nlanguage (Sanskrit) in which they speak is destitute of sound logic, as\nMr. James Mill would have his readers believe; it is certainly deficient\nin science and the correct principles of natural philosophy as developed\nby modern discoveries, but the elegance of its diction, the beautiful\npoetical imagery in which it abounds, the sound moral doctrines which it\ninculcates, the force of argument by which it is distinguished, and the\nelevated ideas which its original system of theology unfolds, afford no\ngood reason why it should not be stamped with the dignity and importance\nof a classical language, and why \"the deep students of it should not\nenjoy some of the honors and estimation conferred by the world on those\nwho have established a name for an erudite acquaintance with Latin and\nGreek.\" If the respective merits of all the classical languages are\nproperly estimated, it is not too much to say that the Sanskrit language\nwill in no way suffer by the comparison, though as history abundantly\ntestifies it labored under all the adverse circumstances of mighty\npolitical changes and convulsions, no less than the intolerant bigotry\nof many of the Moslem conquerors, whose unsparing devastations have\ndestroyed some of the best specimens of Sanskrit composition. \"When our\nprinces were in exile,\" says a celebrated Hindoo writer, \"driven from\nhold to hold and compelled to dwell in the clefts of the mountains,\noften doubtful whether they would not be forced to abandon the very meal\npreparing for them, was that a time to think of historical records,\" and\nwe should say, of literary excellence? The deep and laborious researches\nof Sir William Jones, Colebrooke, Macnaghten, Wilson, Wilkins, and a\nhost of other distinguished German and French savants, have, in a great\nmeasure, brought to light the hidden treasures of the Sanskrit language.\n\nFrom eight o'clock in the morning to 2 o'clock in the evening, the house\nof a _Shrad_ is crammed to suffocation. A spacious awning covers the\nopen space of the court-yard, preventing the free access of air; carpets\nand satterangees are spread on the ground for the _Kayastas_ and other\ncastes to sit on, while the Brahmins and Pundits by way of precedence\ntake their seats on the raised _Thacoordallan_, or place of worship. The\ncouch-cot with bedding, and the _dan_ consisting of silver and brass\nutensils enumerated before, with a silver salver filled with Rupees, are\narranged in a straight line opposite the audience, leaving a little open\nspace for _kittanees_, or bands of songsters or songstresses and\nmusicians, which form the necessary accompaniment of a _Shrad_ for the\npurpose of imparting solemnity to the scene. Three or four door-keepers\nguard the entrance, so that no intruders may enter and create a\ndisturbance. The guests begin to come in at eight, and are courteously\nasked to take their appropriate seats (Brahmins among Brahmins, and\nKayastas among Kayastas,) the servants in waiting serve them with\n_hookah_ and tobacco,[122] those given to the Brahmins having a thread\nor string fastened at the top for the sake of distinction. The Kayastas\nand other guests are seen constantly going in and coming out, but the\ngenerality of the Brahmins stick to their places until the funeral\nceremony is completed. The current topics of the day form the subject of\nconversation while the _hookah_ goes round the assembly with great\nprecision and punctuality. The female relatives are brought in covered\n_palkees_, as has been described before, by a separate entrance, shut\nout from the gaze of the males. But as this is a mourning scene their\nnaturally convivial spirit gives way to condolence and sympathy.\nExcessive grief does not allow the mother or the wife of the deceased to\ntake an active part in the melancholy proceedings of the day; they\ngenerally stay aloof in a separate room, and are perhaps heard to mourn\nor cry. The very sight of the mourning offerings, instead of affording\nany consolation, almost involuntarily enkindles the flame of sorrow, and\nproduces a train of thoughts in keeping with the commemoration of the\nsad event. Sisters of a congenial spirit try to soothe them by precepts\nand examples, but their admonition and condolence prove in the main\nunavailing. The appearance of a new face revives the sad emotions of the\nheart. Nothing can dispel from the minds of a disconsolate mother or\nwife the gloomy thoughts of her bereavement, and the still more gloomy\nidea of a perpetual widowhood. The clang of _khole_ and _kharatal_\n(musical instruments), which is fitted, as it were, from its very\ndissonance, to drive away the ghost and kill the living, falls doubly\ngrating on her ears, while the fond endearments of _Jasoda_, the mother\nof Krishna, rehearsed by the songsters in the outer court-yard, but\naggravate her grief the more. Weak and tenderhearted by nature, she\ngradually sinks under the overwhelming load of despondency, and raising\nher hand to her forehead mournfully exclaims, \"has Fate reserved all\nthis for me?\" In such cases, there is appropriateness in silence.\n\nAbout ten o'clock the son begins to perform the rite of the funeral\nobsequies, taking previously the permission of the Brahmins and the\nassembled guests to do so. The officiating priest reads the formulas, he\nrepeating them. It must be noticed here that tenacious as the Hindoos\nare in respect of the distinction of caste, they do not scruple to\ninvite lower orders on such an occasion, but they would not mix with\nthem at the time of eating. The _Dulloputty_ or head of the party, makes\nhis appearance about this time; when he enters the house, all other\nguests then present, except the Brahmins, as a token of respect for his\nposition, rise on their legs, and do not resume their seats until he\nsits down. For this distinction or honour a _Dullopatty_ has to spend an\nimmense sum of money, to which allusion has already been made. His\nappearance serves as a signal for the performance of the rite, called\n_mala chandan_, or the distribution of garlands and sandal paste among\nthe assembled multitude. As a matter of course, the Brahmins by way of\npre-eminence receive the first garland, and after them the _Dullopatty_\nobtains the same honour, and then the _Koolins_[123] and other guests\naccording to rank. Where there is no _Dullopatty_, the garland is put\nround the neck of a boy, at which no one can take any offence, and\nafterwards they are distributed indiscriminately.\n\nMeantime the son is engaged in the performance of the ceremony, while\nthe bands of songsters quarrel with one another for the privilege of\nentertaining the audience with their songs, which renders confusion\nworse confounded. Female songsters of questionable virtue are now more\nin favor than their male rivals, which is an unerring proof of the\ndegeneracy of the age. Only one band is formally engaged, but thirty\nbands may come of their own accord, quite uninvited. The disappointed\nones generally get from two to four Rupees each, but the party retained\ngets much more, the rich guests coming in making them presents, besides\nwhat they obtain from the family retaining them.\n\nAbout one in the afternoon, the ceremony is brought to a close, and the\nassembled multitudes begin to disperse. Those who have to attend their\noffices return earlier, but not without offering the compliments suited\nto the gravity of the occasion. Some of the Brahmins remain behind to\nreceive their customary _bidhay_ or gift. According to their reputation\nfor learning they obtain their rewards. The first in the list gets, in\nordinary cases, about five Rupees in cash, and one brass pot valued, at\nfour or five Rupees, the second and third in proportion, and the rest,\nsay, from one to two Rupees each, in addition to a brass utensil. The\nsilver utensils of which the _soroshes_ are made are afterwards cut and\nallotted to the Brahmins according to their worth or status in the\nrepublic of letters. The _Gooroo_ or spiritual guide, and the _Purrohit_\nor officiating priest, being the most interested parties, generally\ncarry off the lion's share. So great is their cupidity that the one\ndisputes the right of the other as to the amount of reward they are\nrespectively entitled to. As a matter of course, the _Gooroo_, from his\nspiritual ascendency, manages to carry off the highest prize. The\ndistribution of rewards among the Brahmins and Pundits of different\ndegrees of scholarly attainments, is a rather thankless task. In common\nwith other human beings, they are seldom satisfied, especially when the\nquestion is one of Rupees. Each sets a higher value on his own descent\nand learning, undervaluing the worth of his compeers. The voice of the\nPresident, who has many a knotty question to solve, decides their fate,\nbut it is seldom that a classification of this nature results in\nproducing general satisfaction. As these Pundits, or rather professors,\ncalled _Adhaypucks_, do not eat in the house of _Soodras_, in addition\nto their reward in money and kind, they, each of them, receive a small\nquantity of sweetmeats and sugar, say about two pounds in all in lieu of\n_achmany jalpan_ or fried and prepared food. On a _Shrad_ day in the\nafternoon one can see numbers of such Brahmins walk through the native\npart of the city, with an earthen plate of sweetmeats in one hand and a\nbrass pot in the other, the fruits of their day's labor. Such gains\nbeing quite precarious, and the prospect looming before them quite\ndiscouraging, the annual sum total they derive from this source is quite\ninadequate to their support, and that of the _chottoos-pattee_ or school\nthey keep. Hence many such institutions for the cultivation of Sanskrit\nhave been abandoned for want of sufficient encouragement, and as a\nnecessary consequence the sons and grandsons of these Brahmins have\ntaken to secular occupations, quite incompatible with the spirit of the\nShastra. In the halcyon days of Hindoo sovereignty, when Brahminical\nlearning was in the ascendant and rich religious endowments were freely\nmade for the support of the hierarchy,[124] as well from the influence\nof vanity as from the compunctions of a death-bed repentance, such\n_chottoos-pattees_ annually sent forth many a brilliant scholar,--the\npride of his professor and the ornament of his country. But the\nadvancement of English education--the only passport to honor and\nemoluments--has necessarily laid, as it were, an embargo on the\nextensive culture of Brahminical erudition. The University curriculum,\nhowever, under the present Government, embraces a system well calculated\nto remove the reproach.\n\nThe day following the funeral ceremony is spent in giving an\nentertainment to the Brahmins, without which a Hindoo cannot regain his\nformer purity. About twelve, they begin to assemble, and when the number\nreaches two or three hundred, _Koosasan_ or grass seats in long straight\nrows are arranged for them in the spacious court-yard, and as Hindoos\nuse nothing but green plantain leaves for plates on such grand\noccasions, each guest is provided with a cut piece on which are placed\nthe fruits of the season, ghee-fried _loochees_ and _kachoories_, and\nseveral sorts of sweetmeats in earthen plates for which there are no\nEnglish names. In spite of the utmost vigilance of door-keepers and\nothers, intruders in rather decent dress enter the premises and sit down\nto eat with the respectable Brahmins, but should such a character be\nfound out, steps are instantly taken to oust him. On a grand occasion,\nsome such unpleasant cases are sure to occur. There are loafers among\nHindoos as there are among Europeans. These men, whom misfortune or\ncrime has reduced to the last state of poverty, are prepared to put up\nwith any amount of insult so long as they have their fill. When a Hindoo\nmakes a calculation about the expenses of an entertainment at a _Shrad_\nor marriage (both grand occasions), he is constrained to double or\ntreble his quantum of supply that he may be enabled to meet such a\ncontingency without any inconvenience. The practice referred to is a\nmost disreputable one, and beseems a people not far above the level of a\nNomad tribe. Even some of the Brahmins[125] who are invited do not\nscruple to take a portion home, regardless of the contaminated touch of\na person of the lowest order, simply because the temptation is too\nstrong to be resisted. Before departure, each and every one of the\nBrahmins obtains one or two annas as _dakhinah_, a concession which is\nnot accorded to any other caste.\n\nThe next day, a similar entertainment is given to the Kayastas and other\nclasses, which is accompanied by the same noise, confusion and tumult\nthat characterised the entertainment given on the previous day. The\nsober and quiet enjoyments of life which have a tendency to enliven the\nmind can seldom be expected in a Hindoo house of _Shrad_, where all is\n_golemal_, confusion and disorder. When a dinner is announced, a regular\nscramble takes place, the rude and the uninvited occupy the _first_\nseats to the exclusion of the genteel and respectable, and when the\neatables are beginning to be served, the indecent cries of \"bring\n_loochee_, bring _kachoorie_, bring _tarkari_,\" and so on, are heard\nevery now and again, much to the disturbance of the polite and the\ndiscreet.\n\nThe day following is called the _neeumbhanga_, or the day on which the\nson is allowed to break the rules of mourning after one month. In the\nmorning the band of songsters previously retained come and treat the\nfamily to songs of Krishna, taking care to select pieces which are most\npathetic and heart-rending, befitting the mournful occasion of a very\nheavy domestic bereavement. The singing continues till twelve or one\no'clock, and some people seem to be so deeply affected that they\nactually shed tears, and forget for a while their worldly cares and\nanxieties. When the songs are finished, the son and his nearest\nrelatives, rubbing their bodies with oil and turmeric, remove the\n_brisakat_ on their shoulders from the house to a place near it. A hole\nis made, and the _brisakat_ (a painted log of wood about six feet high)\nwith an ox on the top, &c., is put into it; after this they all bathe\nand return home. The songsters are dismissed with presents of money,\nclothes and food.\n\nThe son then sits down to a dinner with his nearest blood relation, and\nthis is the _first_ day that he leaves his _habishee_ diet after a\nmonth's mourning, and takes to the use of fish and other Hindoo dishes.\nHe is also allowed to change his mourning dress and put on shoes, after\nhaving made a present of a pair to a Brahmin; he, moreover, sleeps with\nhis wife from this day as before, in fact he reverts to his former mode\nof living in every respect.\n\nAs the entertainment this time consists of _vojan_, made up of rice and\ncurries, and not _jalpan_, made up of _loochees_ and sweetmeats,\ncomparatively a smaller number of guests assemble on the occasion[126]\nand that of loafers and intruders exhibits a very diminished\nproportion. Even on such occasions, one can always tell from a distance\nthat there is a feast at such a house from the noise it is invariably\nattended with.\n\nHaving described above the details connected with the funeral ceremony,\nI will now endeavour to give an account of one or two of the most\ncelebrated _Shrads_ that took place in Bengal after the battle of\nPlassey, premising that every thing which shall be said on the subject\nis derived chiefly from hearsay, as no authentic historical records have\ncome down to us. The first and most celebrated _Shrad_ was that\nperformed by Dewan Gunga Gobind Set, on the occasion of his mother's\ndeath. It was performed on so large a scale that he caused reservoirs to\nbe made which were filled with ghee and oil, immense heaps of rice,\nflour and _dhall_ were piled on the ground. Several large rooms were\nquite filled with sweetmeats of all sorts. Mountains of earthen pots and\nfirewood were stacked on the Maidan. Hundreds of Brahmin cooks and\nconfectioners were constantly at work to provide victuals for the\nenormous concourse of people. Silver and brass utensils of all kinds\nwere arranged in pyramids. Hundreds of couches with bedding were placed\nbefore the _Sabha_, (assembly). Elephants richly caparisoned with silver\ntrappings formed presents to Brahmins. Tens of thousands of silver coins\nbearing the stamp of _Shah Allum_ were placed on massive silver plates.\nAnd to crown the whole, thousands of learned Pundits from all parts of\nthe country congregated together to impart a religious solemnity to the\nspectacle. All these preparations lent a grandeur to the scene, which\nwas in the highest degree imposing. Countless myriads of beggars from\nthe most distant parts of the Province assembled together, and they were\nnot only fed for weeks at the expense of the Dewan, but were dismissed\nwith presents of money, clothes and food, with the most enthusiastic\nhosannas on their lips. For more than two months the distribution of\nalms and presents lasted, and what was the most praiseworthy feature in\nthe affair was the Job-like patience of the Dewan, whose charity flowed\nlike the rushing flood-tide of the holy Ganges on the banks of which he\npresented offerings to the manes of his ancestors. Some of the\n_Adhapucks_ or Professors obtained as much as one thousand Rupees each\nin cash and gold and silver articles, or rather fragments of the same,\nto a considerable value. Besides these magnificent honorariums the whole\nof their travelling and lodging expenses were defrayed by the Dewan, who\nwas reputed to be so rich that like Croesus of old he did not know how\nmuch he was worth; hence there is still a current saying amongst the\nBengalees, which runs thus: \"If ever money were wanted, Gouri Set will\npay.\" Gouri Set was the son of Gunga Gobind Set. The expenses of the\n_Shrad_ have been variously estimated at between ten and twelve lacks of\nRupees. The result of this truly extravagant expenditure was wide-spread\nfame, and the name of the donor is still cherished with grateful\nremembrance. But as all human greatness is evanescent, the fame of the\nfamily for charity once unparalleled in the annals of Bengal has long\nsince dwindled into insignificance.\n\nThe next _Shrad_ of importance was that of Maharajah Nabkissen Bahadoor\nof Shobhabazar, Calcutta. His son Raja Rajkissen performed the _Shrad_,\nwhich, to this day, stands unrivalled in this city. Four sets of gold\nand sixty-four sets of silver utensils described before, amounting in\nvalue to near a lakh of Rupees, were given on the occasion. Such\nparaphernalia go by the name of _dansagor_ or \"gift like the sea.\"\nBesides these presents in money to Brahmins upwards of two lakhs of\nRupees were given to the poor.\n\nIf these immense sums of money had been invested for the permanent\nsupport of a Charitable Institution, it would have done incalculable\ngood to society. But then there was no regularly organised system of\nPublic Charity, nor had the people any idea of it. Such immense sums\nwere spent mostly for religious purposes according to the prevailing\nnotions of the age. Tanks, reservoirs, flights of steps on the banks of\nthe river,[127] fine rows of trees, every three miles stone buildings or\nchoultries for travellers, affording a grateful shelter throughout the\ncountry, were among the works of public utility constructed by the\ncharitably disposed.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[113] This means that he must soon die.\n\n[114] _Boyetarni_ is a river which must be crossed before one gets to\nheaven; the rite consists in distributing a certain amount of _cowries_\namong the Brahmins for guiding the soul through the Death Valley to the\nother side.\n\n[115] A Hindoo, especially a grown up man, if he die at home is branded\nas an unrighteous person; many a one otherwise esteemed righteous in his\nlife-time is denounced as a sinful being should he not expire on the\nbanks of the holy stream. In the _rari_, or inland provinces, through\nwhich the Ganges does not flow, people are constrained to breathe their\nlast on the banks of a neighbouring tank and are consequently precluded,\nfrom their geographical position, from securing the benefit of this\n_cheap_ mode of salvation. As a partial atonement for this natural\ndisadvantage, they bring the navel of the dead and throw it into the\nholy stream, which, in their supposition, is tantamount to the\npurification of the soul.\n\n[116] A few years back the Calcutta Municipality proposed to have the\nburning Ghaut removed to Dhappa, a notoriously unhealthy marshy swamp,\nsome six miles east of Calcutta, bordering on the Soonderbunds, because\nthe present site was considered a nuisance to the city. As must\nnaturally be expected, great sensation was produced among the Hindoo\npopulation, and memorials were submitted to the Government of Bengal,\nsigned by the most influential portion of the Hindoo community. In spite\nof solicitation and remonstrance, the Municipality were determined to\ncarry out their plan, but the _mighty_ Ramgopal Ghose, as the late Mr.\nJames Hume, the Editor of the \"_Eastern Star_,\" styled him, interposed\nand exerted his best, at great personal sacrifice, to nullify the\nproposal. The Hindoos called a meeting, and Ramgopal, moved by the\nentreaties of his countrymen, made an admirable speech at the Town Hall,\non which occasion no less than fifty thousand people assembled on the\n_maidan_ facing the Town Hall. In the speech he set forth, in a graphic\nmanner, the suitableness of the present site, and the distress and\nhardship of the people, as well as the shock to religious feeling which\nthe removal would involve. He eventually succeeded in prevailing on the\nauthorities to withdraw the proposal. When he came out of the Town Hall,\nhe was most enthusiastically cheered by thousands of people, Brahmins\nand Soodras, and loud cries of \"may he live long\" were heard on all\nsides.\n\n[117] Some forty years back these Brahmins and their whole crew of\n_murdur-farashassys_ were a regular set of ragamuffins whose sole\noccupation was to fleece their victims in the most extortionate manner\nimaginable; the Brahmin would not read the formula, nor his myrmidons\nput up the funeral pile, without having received nearly four times the\namount of the present cost. Great credit is due to Baboo Chunder Mohun\nChatterjee, the late Registrar, for his strenuous exertions in making\nthe Police frame a set of rules for regulating the funeral expenses at\nthe burning Ghaut. It is a public boon which cannot be too highly\nappreciated.\n\n[118] In the case of a daughter (married) the mourning lasts for three\ndays. On the morning of the fourth day she is enjoined to cut her nails,\nand perform the funeral ceremony of a departed father or mother. An\nentertainment is to be given to the Brahmins and friends. This is always\ndone on a comparatively small scale, and in most cases the husband is\nmade to bear all the expenses of the ceremony and the entertainment.\n\n[119] Apart from erroneous popular notions, which in this age of\ndepravity are corrupted by vanity, the Hindoo Shastra, be it mentioned\nto its credit, abounds in explicit injunctions on the subject of a\nfuneral ceremony in various ways according to the peculiar circumstances\nof parties. From an expenditure of lacks and lacks of Rupees to a mere\ntrifle, it can be performed with the ultimate prospect of equal merit.\nIt is stated in the holy Shastra that the god Ramchundra considered\nhimself purified (for a Hindoo under mourning is held unclean until the\nfuneral ceremony is performed) by offering to the manes of his ancestors\nsimple balls of sand, called _pindas_, on the bank of the holy stream.\nIn these days a poor man would be held sanctified or absolved from this\nreligious responsibility by making a _tilakanchan Shrad_, or offering a\nsmall quantity of rice, _teelseed_ and a few fruits, and feeding only\none Brahmin, all which would not cost more than four Rupees.\n\n[120] At the Shrad of Raja Nubkissen, Nemy Churn Mullick and Ramdoolal\nDey, very near 100,000 beggars were said to have assembled together;\nthis mode of charity is much discountenanced now and better systems are\nadopted for the ostensible gratification of generous propensities. The\nDistrict Charitable Society should have a preference in every case.\nInstead of making a great noise by sound of trumpet and raising an\nephemeral name from vainglorious motives, it is far wiser that a\npermanent provision should be made for the relief of suffering humanity.\n\n[121] The appearance of Brahmins on such occasions has the ludicrous\nadmixture of the learned and the ragged, exhibiting the insolence of\nhigh caste and the low cringe of poverty.\n\n[122] The Hindoos are so much accustomed to smoking that it has almost\nbecome a necessary of life. At a reception it is the first thing\nrequired. The practice is regulated by rules of etiquette, so that a\nyounger brother is not permitted to smoke in the presence of his elder\nbrother or his uncle. Even among the reformed Hindoos, I have seen two\nbrothers eat and drink together at the same table in European style, but\nwhen the dinner is over the younger brother would on no account smoke in\nthe presence of his elder brother, if he do, he would be instantly voted\na _bayadub_, or one wanting in the rules of good breeding. The\nobservance of this etiquette, however, is confined only to the high\ncaste people; among the lower orders, a son smokes before a father with\nthe same freedom as if he were taking his ordinary meal.\n\n[123] The following anecdote illustrating the very great honor shewn to\nfirst-class Koolins, will, I trust, not be considered out of place.\n\nWhen the late Rajah Rajkissen Bahadoor of Calcutta had to perform the\n_Shrad_ or funeral ceremony of his illustrious father, the late Moha\nRajah Nubkissen (the ceremony was said to have cost about five lacks of\nRupees or L50,000,) he had to invite almost all the celebrated Koolins\nof Bengal at considerable expense. On the day of the _Shrad_ those who\nwere invited assembled at his mansion in Sobha Bazar, when all eyes were\ndazzled at the unparalleled magnificence of the scene, displaying a\ngorgeous array of gold, silver and brass utensils for presents to\nBrahmins, exclusive of large sums of money, Cashmere shawls, broadcloth,\n&c. After the performance of the ceremony, as is usual on such\noccasions, the distribution of garlands and sandal paste had to be gone\nthrough; the whole of the splendid assemblage had been watching with\nintense anxiety as to who should get the _first_ garland--the highest\nrespect shewn, according to precedence of rank, to the _first_ Koolin\npresent. This is a very knotty point in a large assemblage to which all\norders of Koolins had been brought together. The honor was eagerly\ncontested and coveted by many, but at length a voice from a corner\nloudly proclaimed to the following effect: \"Put the garland on my\n_gode_,\" (elephantiasis) laying bare and stretching his right leg at the\nsame time and thus suiting the action to his words. The attention of the\nassembled multitude was immediately directed in that direction, and to\nthe amazement of all, the garland had to be put round the neck of the\nvery man who shouted from a corner, because by a general consensus he\nwas pronounced to be the _first_ Koolin then present. But such\nartificial and demoralising distinctions, built on the baseless fabric\nof quicksand, having no foundation in solid, sterling merit, are fast\nfalling, as they should, into disrepute.\n\n[124] Manu commands, \"Should the king be near his end, through some\nincurable disease, he must bestow on the priests all his riches\naccumulated from legal fines.\"\n\n[125] To preserve order and avoid such unseemly practices, a wealthy\nBaboo--the late Doorgaram Cor--when he invited a number of Brahmins\nallotted to each two separate rations, one on the plantain leaf for\neating on the spot, and another in an earthen _handy_ or pot for\ncarrying home for the absent members of the family. Even this excellent\narrangement failed to satisfy the greedy cravings of the voracious\nBrahmins. As a _dernier ressort_, he at last substituted _cash_ for\n_eatables_, which was certainly a queer mode of satisfying the _inner_\nman.\n\n[126] There is a vast difference between a _vojun_ and a _jalpan_\ndinner. If there be a thousand guests at the latter, at the most there\nwould be only three hundred at the former, as none but the nearest\nrelatives and friends will condescend to take rice (_vath_), which is\nalmost akin to one and the same clanship, whereas in a _jalpan_, not\nonly the members of the same caste but even those of the inferior order\nare tacitly permitted to partake of the same entertainment without\ntarnishing the honor of the aristocratic classes.\n\nThe following anecdote will, I hope, prove interesting:--\n\nAt the marriage procession of a washerman, confessedly very low in the\ncategory of caste, two _Kayastas_ (writer caste) joined it on the road\nin the hope of getting a hearty _Jalpan_ dinner; but lo! when, after the\nnuptial rites were over, rice and curries were brought out for the\nguests, the two _Kayastas_, who sat down with the rest of the company,\ntried to escape unnoticed, because if they ate rice at a washerman's\nthey were sure to lose their caste, but the host would not let them go\naway without dinner. They at last spoke the truth, asked forgiveness and\nwere then allowed to leave the house. To such disappointments\nunfortunate intruders are sometimes subjected.\n\n[127] In the sacred city of Benares vast sums of money have been sunk in\nbuilding Ghauts with magnificent flights of steps stretching from the\nbank to the very edge of the water at ebb-tide, affording great\nconvenience to the people both for religious and domestic purposes, but\nthe strong current of the stream in the months of August, September and\nOctober, has played a sad havoc with the masonry works. Scarcely a\nsingle Ghaut exists in a complete state of preservation.\n\n\n\n\nXXI.\n\nSUTTEE, OR THE IMMOLATION OF HINDOO WIDOWS.\n\n\nFifty years ago, when the British Government was endeavouring to\nconsolidate its power in the East, and when the religious prejudices of\nthe Natives were alike tolerated and respected, there arose a great man\nin Bengal who was destined by Providence to work a mighty revolution in\ntheir social, moral and intellectual condition. That great man was\nRammohun Roy, the pioneer of Hindoo enlightenment. Having early enriched\nhis mind with European and Eastern erudition, he soon rose, by his\nenergy, to a degree of eminence and usefulness which afterwards marked\nhis career as a distinguished reformer and a benevolent philanthropist.\nHe was emphatically an oasis in this sterile land--a solitary example of\na highly cultivated mind among many millions of men grovelling in\nignorance. To his indefatigable exertions we are indebted for the\nabolition of the inhuman practice of Suttee, the very name of which\nevokes a natural shrinking from the diabolical deed, which appallingly\nand suddenly expunged a tender life from the earth, and severed the\ndearest tie of humanity. It was the severest reflection on the satanic\ncharacter of a religion that ignores the first principle of divine law.\nWomen are of an impressionable nature, their enthusiasm is easily fanned\ninto intensity, and superstition and priestcraft took advantage of it.\n\nNot content with sending a sick man to the riverside to be suffocated\nand burnt to ashes, a narrow-minded hierarchy lent its sanction to the\ndestruction of a living creature, by burning the Hindoo widow with the\ndead body of her husband, the fire being kindled perhaps by the hand of\none whom she had nurtured and suckled in infancy. It is awful to\ncontemplate how the finest sensibilities of our nature are sometimes\nblunted by a false faith.\n\nMy apology for dwelling on this painful subject now that the primary\ncause of complaint has long since been removed by a wise Legislature, is\nno other than that I had been an eye-witness of a melancholy scene of\nthis nature, the dreadful atrocity of which it is impossible even at\nthis distance of time to call to mind without horror and dismay. As the\ntale I am going to relate is founded in real life its truthfulness can\nbe thoroughly relied upon.\n\nWhen I was a little boy reading in a _Patsala_ at home, my attention was\none morning roused by hearing from my mother that my aunt was \"going a\nSuttee.\" The word was then scarcely intelligible to me. I pondered and\nthought over and over again in my mind what could the word 'Suttee'\nmean. Being unable to solve the problem, I asked my mother for an\nexplanation; she, with tears in her eyes, told me that my aunt (living\nin the next house) \"was going to eat fire.\" Instantly I felt a strong\ncuriosity to see the thing with my own eyes, still laboring under a\nmisconception as to what the reality could be. I had then no distinct\nnotion that life would be at once annihilated. I never thought for a\nmoment that I was going to lose my dear aunt for ever. My mind was quite\nunsettled, and I felt an irresistible desire to look into the thing more\nminutely. I ran down to my aunt's room and what should I see there, but\na group of sombre complexioned women with my aunt in the middle. I have\nyet after fifty years, a vivid recollection of what I then saw in the\nroom. My aunt was dressed in a red silk _sari_ with all the ornaments on\nher person, her forehead daubed with a very thick coat of _sidoor_ or\nvermillion, her feet painted red with _alta_, she was chewing a mouthful\nof betel, and a bright lamp was burning before her. She was evidently\nwrapt in an ecstacy of devotion, earnest in all she did, quite calm and\ncomposed as if nothing important was to happen. In short, she was then\nat her matins, anxiously watching the hour when this mortal coil should\nbe put off. My uncle was lying a corpse in the adjoining room. It\nappeared to me that all the women assembled were admiring the virtues\nand fortitude of my aunt. Some licking the betel out of her mouth, some\ntouching her forehead in order to have a little of the _sidoor_ or\nvermillion, while not a few falling before her feet, expressed a fond\nhope that they might possess a small particle of her virtue. Amidst all\nthese surroundings, what surprised me most was my aunt's stretching out\none of her hands at the bidding of an old Brahmin woman and holding a\nfinger right over the wick of the burning lamp for a few seconds until\nit was scorched and forcibly withdrawn by the old lady who bade her do\nso, in order to have a foretaste of the unshaken firmness of her mind.\nThe perfect composure with which she underwent this fiery ordeal fully\nconvinced all that she was a real Suttee, fit to abide with her husband\nin _Boykonto_, paradise. Nobody could notice any change in her\ncountenance or resolution after she had gone through this painful trial.\n\nIt was about eleven o'clock when preparations were made for the removal\nof the corpse of my uncle to the Ghaut. It was a small mourning\nprocession, nearly thirty persons, all of respectable families,\nvolunteered to carry the dead body alternately on their shoulders. The\nbody was laid on a _charpoy_, my aunt followed it, not in a closed but\nan open Palkee. She was unveiled and regardless of the consequences of a\npublic exposure; she was, in a manner, dead to the external world. The\ndelicate sense of shame so characteristic of Hindoo females was entirely\nsuppressed in her bosom. In truth, she was evidently longing for the\nhour when her spirit and that of her husband should meet together and\ndwell in heaven. She had a _toolsee mala_ (string of basil beads) in\nher right hand which she was telling, and she seemed to enjoy the shouts\nof \"Hurree, Hurree bole\" with perfect serenity of mind. How can we\naccount for the strange phenomenon wherein a sentient being in a state\nof full consciousness was ready to surrender at the feet of \"Hurree\" the\nlast vital spark of life for ever, without a murmur, a sigh, or a tear?\nA deep, sincere religious faith, which serves as a sheet-anchor to the\nsoul amidst the storms of life, can only unriddle the enigma and disarm\ndeath of its terrors. We reached Nimtollah Ghaut about twelve, and after\nstaying ten or fifteen minutes, sprinkling the holy water on the dead\nbody, and all proceeded slowly to Kooltollah Ghaut, about three miles\nnorth of Nimtollah. On arriving at the destination which was the dreary\nabode of Hindoo undertakers, solitary and lonesome, the Police Darogah,\n(who was also a Hindoo) came to the spot and closely examined my aunt,\nin various ways attempting if possible, to induce her to change her\nmind, but she, like \"Joan of Arc,\" was resolute and determined, she gave\nan unequivocal reply, to the purport that \"such was her predestination,\nand that Hurree had summoned her and her husband into the Boykonto.\" The\nDarogah, amazed at the firmness of her mind, staid at the Ghaut to watch\nthe proceedings, while preparations were being made for a funeral pile,\nwhich consisted of dry firewood, faggots, pitch with a lot of sandal\nwood, ghee, &c. in it to impart a fragrant odour to the air. Half a\ndozen Bamboos or sticks were procured also, the use of which we\nafterwards understood and saw. We little boys were ordered to stand\naloof. The Brahmin undertaker came and read a few _mantras_ or\nincantations. The dead body wrapped in new clothes being placed on the\npyre, my aunt was desired to turn seven times round it, which she did\nwhile strewing a lot of flowers, cowries (shells) and parched rice on\nthe ground. It struck me at the time that at every successive\ncircumambulation, her strength and presence of mind failed, whereupon\nthe Darogah stepped forward once more and endeavoured even at the last\nmoment to deter her from her fatal determination, but she, at the very\nthreshold of ghastly death, in the last hour of expiring life, the fatal\ntorch of _Yama_ (Pluto) before her, calmly ascended the funeral pile and\nlying by the side of her husband with one hand under his head and\nanother on his breast, was heard to call, in voice half suppressed, on\n\"Hurree, Hurree,\"--a sign of firm belief in the reality of eternal\nbeatitude. When she had thus laid herself on the funeral pyre, she was\ninstantly covered or rather choked with dry wood, while some stout men\nheld and pressed down the pyre which was by this time burning fiercely\non all sides, with the Bamboos. A great shout of exultation then arose\nfrom the surrounding spectators, till both the dead and living bodies\nwere converted into a handful of dust and ashes. When the tragic scene\nwas brought to a close and the excitement of the moment subsided, men\nand women wept and sobbed, while cries and groans of sympathy filled the\nair.\n\nIf all religions be not regarded as \"splendid failures,\" that outlook\ninto the future, which sustains us amid the manifold griefs and agonies\nof a troublous life, holds out the sure hope of a blessed existence\nhereafter. My aunt, Bhuggobutty Dassee, though a victim of superstition,\nhad nevertheless a firm, unalterable faith in the merciful dispensations\nof Hurree which prompted her to renounce her life for the salvation of\nher own and her husband's souls, giving no heed whatever to the\nimportunity of her friends or the admonition of the world. The sincerity\nof her religious conviction immeasurably outweighed every other worldly\nconsideration, and no fear or temptation could deter her from her\nresolute purpose, despite its singularly shocking character. It was the\ndepth of a similar religious conviction and earnestness of purpose that\nled Joan of Arc to suffer martyrdom on a funeral pile. When asked by\nthe executioner if she believed in the reality of her mission, \"Yes,\"\nshe firmly replied, while the flames were ascending around her. \"My\nvoices were of God. All that I have done was by the command of God. No,\nmy voices did not deceive me. My revelations were of God.\" \"Nothing more\nwas heard from her but invocations to God, interrupted by her long drawn\nagony. So dense were the clouds of smoke that at one time, she could not\nbe seen. A sudden gust of wind turned the current of the whirlwind and\nJeanne was seen for a few moments. She gave one terrific cry, pronounced\nthe name of Jesus, bowed her head, and the spirit returned to God who\ngave it. Thus perished Jeanne, the maid of Orleans,\" and thus perished\nBhuggobutty Dassee, my aunt.\n\nAbout the year 1813, Rammohun Roy published a pamphlet in which he very\nclearly exposed the barbarous character of the rite of burning widows\nalive. He was unfortunately backed by few friends. The orthodox party\nwas then very strong, and included the most influential and wealthy\nportion of the Hindoo community. Maharajah Tejchunder Bahadoor of\nBurdwan, Rajahs Gopeemohun and Radhakanto Bahadoors, Promothnath Dey,\nBoystubchunder Mullick, Rammohun Mullick and, in fact, the entire\naristocracy of Calcutta were enlisted on the side of opposition. The\n\"Sumachar Chandrika,\" the recognised organ of the _Dhurmo Shabha_,\nedited by Bhowbany Churn Bonerjea, vilified Rammohun Roy, as an outcast\nand infidel and persecuted those who were bold enough to avow their\nsentiments in favour of the abolition of this inhuman practice. Rammohun\nRoy almost single-handed encountered this formidable opposition, he\nfought for a just and righteous but not a popular cause, regardless\nalike of the consequences of social persecution and the threats and\nscoffs of his orthodox countrymen. Patiently but steadily and\nconsistently he worked his way, until at last his appeal finding a\nresponsive echo in a Christian heart, that noble minded Governor\nGeneral--Lord William Bentinck--gradually put a stop to the practice.\nThat eminent statesman had many a conference with Rammohun Roy on the\npropriety or otherwise of abolishing this shocking practice. The\nanti-abolitionists presented a memorial to Government, urging therein\nits unjustifiable interference with the religious usages of the country.\nThat wise Governor General, who was very anxious to preserve in full\nintegrity the solemn pledge of government about a neutral policy in\nmatters of religion, consulted the distinguished Orientalist, Mr. H. H.\nWilson, on the subject, and finally came to the resolution of abolishing\nthis inhuman institution throughout the British dominion in the East.\nBut before giving effect to the resolution, he recorded in a Minute that\nthe authoritative abolition of the practice would be an outrageous\nviolation of the engagement of the Supreme Government. Accordingly his\nLordship observed: \"I must acknowledge that a similar opinion, as to the\nprobable excitation of a deep distrust of our future intentions, was\nmentioned to me in conversation by that enlightened Native, Rammohun\nRoy, a warm advocate for the abolition of Suttees, and of all other\nsuperstitions and corruptions engrafted on the Hindu religion, which he\nconsiders originally to have been a pure deism. It was his opinion that\nthe practice might be suppressed quietly and unobservedly by increasing\nthe difficulties, and by the indirect agency of the Police. He\napprehended that any public enactment would give rise to general\napprehension, that the reasoning would be, while the English were\ncontending for power, they deemed it politic to allow universal\ntoleration and to respect our religion; but having obtained the\nsupremacy, their first act is a violation of their professions and the\nnext will probably be, like Mahomedan conquerors to force upon us their\nown religion.\"\n\nThe argument urged by Government was as reasonable as its conduct was\ncompatible with its known policy. But it must be mentioned to the credit\nof an enlightened Government that its generous exertions have\neffectually healed one of the most shocking wounds inflicted by inhuman\nsuperstition upon our unhappy country.\n\n\n\n\nXXII.\n\nTHE ADMIRED STORY OF THE SABITRI BRATA,\n\nOR\n\nTHE WONDERFUL TRIUMPH OF EXALTED CHASTITY.\n\n\nIn the halcyon days of the Hindoo _Raj_, when religion was regarded as\nthe mortar of society, and righteousness the cement of domestic\nhappiness, when Judhistra the Just inculcated, by precept and example,\nthe inflexible rules of moral rectitude, there reigned in the country of\nMadra a very pious, truthful, wise and benevolent king named _Aswapati_.\nFor a long time he had no child, which made him extremely unhappy.\nSeeing that the evening of his life was drawing nearer every day and\nthere was no sign of the approach of the wished-for consummation, he\nundertook to perform a grand religious ceremony with the object of\nobtaining a son and heir, and daily made ten thousand offerings to\nplease the goddess, Sabitri, from whom the boon was expected.\n\nThus passed away several long and painful years, at the end of which it\ncame to pass that the goddess, Sabitri, one day suddenly appeared before\nhim in the shape of a beautiful woman, and told him that she was ready\nto grant him any boon he might ask for, because she was well pleased\nwith him for his austere asceticism, for the purity and sincerity of his\nheart, for the strict observance of his vow, and for his firm, unshaken\nfaith in her. As was to be expected, he prayed for a good number of\nsons, affirming that without offspring the life of man upon earth is but\na wilderness, obscuring the transitory sunshine of bliss into a chaotic\nmass of settled gloom.\n\nThe goddess said that foreknowing this to be his cherished desire, she\nhad gone to the Creator (Brahma) to consult him as to the best means for\nits realization, and through his mercy he would soon be blessed with a\nfemale child, in every way worthy of such a pious and virtuous father.\nHer beauty would shed a lustre around her name and the fame of her rare\ngifts of nature spread far and wide. She would be the cynosure of all\nprincely eyes, and her charms radiate in all directions. So saying, the\ngoddess disappeared and the king returned to his own capital.\n\nIn a short time, the eldest queen became pregnant and in due course of\ntime, gave birth to a daughter of matchless beauty. The king and his\nBrahmin friends called her Sabitri, after the name of the goddess who\ngranted the boon. Day by day, the princess grew fairer and fairer, and\nsoon passed from the incipient stage of smiling childhood to that of\nblooming youth. Every one that saw her chiselled features and\nprepossessing appearance believed that some angelic beauty,--the\nembodiment of loveliness itself--had descended upon earth in the shape\nof a lovely damsel. Indeed she was so surpassingly beautiful that no\nprince, how great or eminent he might be, dared seek her hand in\nmarriage lest his suit should be spurned.\n\nThe king, Aswapati, thought of marrying his only daughter, then in the\nfullness and freshness of youth, to some one worthy of the honor. For\nsome time no royal suitors ventured to solicit her hand for the reasons\nstated above. At length, Sabitri sought and obtained her father's\npermission to secure for herself a suitable match. In complying with her\nrequest, the father moreover allowed her to take in her travels some of\nthe wisest ministers of the state, whose experience and counsel would be\navailable to her in so momentous an affair. Mounted on a golden chariot\nand accompanied by a number of gray headed ministers, she left the\ncapital with the benedictions of the hereditary priests, and journeyed\nfar and wide through many a strange country, visiting on her way some of\nthe most delightful hermitages of the venerable old _Rishis_, who were\nabsorbed in meditation.\n\nSometime after, while the king was attending to the duties of the State\nand conversing with that renowned sage, Narada, Sabitri with the\nministers returned home from her peregrination. The princess, seeing her\nfather talking with the great Rishi, Narada, bowed her head down in\ntoken of due homage to the venerable Rishi and her respected father. The\nbustle consequent on the first interview after a long absence being\nover, Narada asked the king: \"O monarch, where did your daughter go?\nWhence is she now coming? It is high time that you should give her in\nmarriage to some noble prince worthy of her hand.\" The king replied, \"O\nrevered Rishi, I sent her abroad with some of my wisest ministers in\nquest of some noble prince, who, to a beautiful person should add all\nthe rarest gifts of wisdom, courage, piety and virtue; now hear from her\nown mouth, how far she has succeeded in her sacred mission.\" So saying,\nthe king desired Sabitri to tell them whom she had chosen for her\nhusband. Sabitri, in obedience to her esteemed father's behest, thus\nspoke in a tone becoming her age and sex. \"Father, a pious king named\nDyumutsen once ruled the kingdom of Sala. A few days after his accession\nhe lost both his eyes and became totally blind. At that time, his only\nchild was in his infancy, quite incapable of conducting the affairs of\nthe kingdom. His treacherous enemies, taking advantage of his blindness\nand the infancy of his child, invaded his kingdom and wrested it from\nhis hands. The dethroned king and his beloved queen with their infant\nchild betook themselves to a quiet life of contemplation in an adjacent\nwood, renouncing all the pleasures of a wicked, ungrateful world. For\nsome years they passed their days in the sequestered wood amidst the\nabodes of many revered sages, who took a special delight in imbuing the\nnascent mind of the boy with the germs of moral and religious\ninstruction, promising a full development in maturer years. He was in\nevery way my equal, and him have I chosen as my worthy husband. His name\nis Satyavana.\"\n\nHearing this, the hoary headed Rishi, Narada, thus addressed the\nmonarch. \"O monarch, I am grieved to say that your daughter has been\nunfortunate in her choice, in having thoughtlessly selected the virtuous\nSatyavana as her husband.\" The king feelingly enquired: \"O great Rishi,\nare the noble qualities of valour, prudence, forgiveness, piety,\ndevotion, generosity, filial love and affection to be found in\nSatyavana?\" Narada answered, \"Satyavana is Surya's (sun's) equal in\nmatchless glory, is wise as Vrihashpati himself, brave and warlike as\nIndra, mild and forgiving as Earth.\" The king asked: \"Is the prince a\nsincere worshipper of God, walking in the path of righteousness? Is he\nbeautiful, amiable and high-minded?\" Narada replied, \"O king, like\nRatideva, the son of Sankriti, the beautiful Satyavana, is generous;\nlike Sibi, the son of Usinara, he is a lover of God and Truth; and is as\nhigh-minded as Yayati; all the pious old Rishis and other good men\nbelieve that Satyavana is brave, mild, meek, truthful, faithful to his\nfriends, magnanimous, pious, and sincere in devotion and earnestness.\"\nThe king again asked: \"O venerable sage, you have named all the good\nqualities that can ennoble humanity; be kind enough to inform me in what\nhe is wanting.\" \"He has one great disqualification,\" said Narada, \"which\nis enough to outweigh all his virtues, his life upon earth is very\nshort, he is fated to live exactly one year from this day.\"\n\nHearing the fearful prophecy of Narada, the king tried his best to\ndissuade his daughter from the fatal alliance, but all his efforts\nproved unavailing. Sabitri, firm and constant in her plighted faith,\nfearlessly replied that, despite the ominous prediction which is\nsuggestive of the appalling horrors of premature widowhood to the mind\nof a Hindoo female, she could not retract her pledge and surrender her\nheart to any other being upon earth.\n\nNarada then exclaimed; \"O king, I see your daughter is true to her\npromise, firm in her faith and constant in her love and attachment to\nSatyavana. No one will be able to lead her astray from the path of\nrighteousness. Let the unrivalled pair, therefore, be united in the\nsacred bond of wedlock.\" The king replied, \"O great Rishi, unalterable\nare your words; what you have now said is just and right. As you are my\n_Gooroo_ (spiritual guide) I will do what you have ordered me to do.\"\n\"Heaven's choicest blessings be upon you all,\" said Narada, and\ndeparted.\n\nThe king now directed his attention to the solemnisation of the nuptials\nof his beloved daughter with becoming pomp and eclat.\n\nThe fair daughter of Aswapati was thus married in due form to Satyavana,\nthe son of the blind old king, Dyumutsen. For a while the happy pair\ncontinued to enjoy all the blessings of conjugal life in their blissful\nand retired cottage, remote from the busy throng of men and quite\ncongenial to religious meditation, though Sabitri knew full well, as\npredestined by Bidhata, that this short and transient happiness would be\nsoon followed by long and painful suffering which would very nigh\ndestroy them both.\n\nThus week after week and month after month rolled away, when at length\nthe prophetic day on which the terrible doom was to be pronounced upon\nSatyavana drew nearer and nearer, and when Sabitri saw that there\nremained only four days to complete the terrible year, perhaps the last\nyear of Satyavana's life, at the end of which the fatal torch of _Yama_\nwould appear before her beloved husband, her heart recoiled at the\nidea. To avert the dreadful doom she undertook the performance of an\naustere vow, which strictly enjoined three days of continuous fasting\nand prayer, pouring forth at the feet of the Almighty all the fervours\nof a devotional heart. Her father-in-law, Dyumutsen, though overwhelmed\nby the surging wave of grief, endeavoured to dissuade her from\nundertaking so trying a vow, but his admonition was quite ineffectual.\nShe persistently adhered to her resolution and calmly resigned herself\nto the dispensations of a wise, and merciful Providence.\n\nMental conflict, internal perturbation, and continuous fasting made her\nweak and emaciated, and the prophetic words of Narada incessantly\nhaunted her mind like some fatal vision. It is quite impossible to\ndescribe the violent struggles that passed within her when that terrible\nday at last arrived, and when the inevitable decree of fate by which her\ndear husband should for ever cease to live would be fulfilled. After\nbathing in the sacred stream she made burnt offerings to the gods and\nprostrated herself on the ground, as a mark of profound homage to the\nhonoured feet of the old Rishis, and those of her revered father-in-law\nand mother-in-law, who in return heartily pronounced their sincere\nbenedictions upon her. When the hour for dinner came, she was desired to\npartake of some refreshment, especially after three days' continuous\nfastings, but animated by a fervent spirit of devotion she declined to\ntake any food before sunset.\n\nPresently she saw her husband going to the forest with his axe and a\nbag, to procure fruits and dry wood. Sabitri begged to accompany him,\nbut from the prescience of imminent danger as well as from the warmth of\naffection he would fain keep her at home, being assured that her tender\nfeet were not fitted to wander in the \"brambly wilderness\" in her\npresent enfeebled state of body; but regardless of all admonition she\nthus exclaimed: \"O my beloved Lord, I am not at all weary with fasting,\nyour very presence is my strongest support. I can never be happy without\nyou, so do not turn a deaf ear to the earnest entreaty of an already\ndisconsolate wife, whose fate is bound with yours in a gordian knot\nwhich no earthly force can break or cut.\" Satyavana was at last\nconstrained to yield to her solicitations, and bade her take his father\nand mother's permission before her departure. It was with the greatest\nreluctance that their permission was given. Obtaining their benedictions\nand being armed with the panoply of divine grace, the unhappy pair\nquitted their sweet home for the dreary forest. On the way, Satyavana,\nhalf conscious of what would soon befall him, addressed his loving wife\nin the following affectionate words: \"O dear Sabitri, behold how nature\nsmiles in all her beauty, how the fields are adorned with fragrant\nflowers, shady groves, and a wide expanse of living verdure, how slowly\nand smoothly runs the murmuring brook with soothing melody, how the\nwarblers of the forest pour forth their wild but sweet notes without\nfear of molestation, how merrily the peacock is dancing, how cheerfully\nthe stag is frisking about, and above all, how the stillness of the\nscene invites the mind to contemplation.\"\n\nWhile Sabitri was attentively listening to her husband's descriptive\nillustration of nature, her heart swelled in her throat, but her eyes\nwere not sullied with even one tear-drop. She continued to follow her\nhusband as a faithful, obedient wife.\n\nAt length they entered the forest, and Satyavana after having filled his\nbag with various kinds of fruits began to cut with his axe the withered\nbranches of the trees. The effort soon overpowered him and he felt some\nuneasy sensation about his head. He slowly walked down to his dear wife\nand observed: \"O much beloved Sabitri, suddenly I feel an acute headache\nwhich, becoming more and more painful, makes me quite insensible and\nalmost breaks my heart. I cannot stand here any longer, but I trust by\nthe aid of balmy sleep, soon to regain my health and strength.\"\n\nOn hearing her husband's heart-rending words, she sat down upon the\nground and placed Satyavana's head upon her lap. But as fate had\nordained he soon became perfectly insensible. When Sabitri saw this, her\nwonted presence of mind did not fail her; trusting, however, in the\nboundless mercy of an overruling Providence, she calmly and composedly\nwaited for the ill-fated hour, when the shadow of death would hide for\never her beloved Satyavana--a doom she was herself prepared to share.\nSuddenly, after a short while, she believed she saw a grim figure,\nclothed in red and resplendent with lustre like the sun, slowly\napproaching her with a chain in his hand. This was not a figment of her\nimagination. The veritable _Yama_ stood beside Satyavana and looked\nsteadfastly upon him.\n\nNo sooner did Sabitri see him than she, taking her husband's head from\nher lap and placing it upon the ground, with trembling heart thus\naddressed him. \"God-like person, your heavenly form and majestic\nappearance bespeak unmistakably that you are a god among gods. Vouchsafe\nto unfold yourself and break your mind to me.\"\n\nYama replied; \"O Sabitri, thou art chaste and constant in thy devotion\nand meditation, I, therefore, feel no delicacy in satisfying your eager\ninquiry. I am Yama (Pluto), I am come here for the purpose of carrying\naway thy dead husband, as his days upon earth are numbered.\" To this,\nSabitri said, \"O king, I have heard that your imps carry away the dead\nbodies from the earth; why are you then come yourself?\"\n\nYama replied, \"O amiable Sabitri, while living, your excellent husband\npossessed many good qualities and was justly remarkable for his\nrighteousness. It was improper, therefore, to have sent my imps to carry\nhim away. With this view I am come myself.\" So saying Yama forcibly\ndrew out the finger-shaped soul from Satyavana's body. Being deprived of\nthe vital spirit, the dead body became motionless, pale and pallid; and\nYama went towards the South. The chaste Sabitri, in order to obtain the\nfruit of her vow, followed him with sad looks and a heavy heart. Seeing\nthis, Yama remonstrated with her and ordered her to return home and\nperform the funeral obsequies of her husband. Sabitri said she would go\nwherever her husband was carried, and that by her unceasing prayer to\nthe Almighty, by her firm faith in her spiritual guide, by the solemn\nfulfilment of her sacred vow, and by his (Yama's) grace, her course\nwould be free and unrestrained. \"O king of the infernal regions,\" said\nshe, \"kindly deign to lend a listening ear to a suppliant's prayer. He\nthat has not obtained a complete mastery over his senses should not come\nto the forest to lead there either a domestic life, or a student's life,\nor the life of a devotee. Those who have effectually controlled their\npassions are fit to fulfil the necessary conditions of the four\ndifferent modes of life. Of these four modes, the domestic life is\ndecidedly the best, being most favourable to the acquisition of\nknowledge and wisdom, and to the cultivation of piety and virtue.\nPersons like myself do not desire to lead any other than a domestic\nlife.\"\n\n\"Now return home, O fair Sabitri; I am much pleased with your wise\nobservations; I am willing to grant you any boon save the life of your\nhusband,\" exclaimed Yama. Sabitri replied, \"O king, be graciously\npleased to restore eyesight to my blind father-in-law, and make him\npowerful as the Sun or the Fire, that he may be enabled to regain his\nkingdom and rule it with vigour.\" Yama granted the boon, and directed\nher to return home after the fatiguing journey. Sabitri answering said,\n\"O virtuous king, I feel no trouble or fatigue while I am with my\nhusband, for a husband is the strength and stay of his wife, and the\nwife is the sharer of her husband's weal or woe:\n\n  The wife, where danger or dishonor lurks,\n  Safest and seemliest by her husband stays,\n  Who guards her, or with her the worst endures.\n\n\"Wherever, therefore, you carry my husband, my footsteps will dog you\nthither. Our very first intercourse with the good and the righteous\nleads to the growth of confidence and kindly feeling, which is always\nproductive of the most beneficial results.\" Whereupon Yama replied, \"O\nthoughtful lady, thy words are agreeable to my heart; they are fraught\nwith meaning and good sense. I shall willingly grant you another boon\nsave the life of your husband.\" \"Allow me, then, O virtuous king, to ask\nfor a hundred begotten sons to my father, who has no son,\" said Sabitri.\n\n\"I grant the boon,\" said Yama, \"now that all your wishes have been\nconsummated, do not continue to follow me any longer. You are far away\nfrom your father-in-law's cottage; return home at once.\"\n\nSabitri replied, \"O virtuous king, we are apt to repose more confidence\nin the righteous than in ourselves; their kindness amply requites our\nlove and regard.\" Yama said, \"I am very much satisfied with your\nedifying speech, and am disposed to grant you another boon.\" Sabitri\nfeeling grateful for the several boons granted unto her, presumed this\ntime to ask for the resurrection of her husband as well as for the birth\nfrom them of a hundred powerful, wise and virtuous sons, to be the glory\nof the country and the ornament of society.\n\n\"Be it so,\" said Yama cheerfully and disappeared.\n\nIt is obvious that the fertile imagination of the hereditary priests of\nHindoosthan, who, from their traditional mental abstraction, delighted\nmore in the concoction of legendary lore than of the solid, sober\nrealities of life, invented the above Brata or vow, mainly for the\nconsolation of ignorant females, to avert the hardships of widowhood,\nthan which a more unmitigated evil is not to be found in the domestic\neconomy of the Hindoos. The unhallowed institution of the immolation of\nwidows alive, was primarily traceable to the dread of this terrible\ncalamity, which preyed, as it were, on the vitals of humanity. Hence the\nperformance of this Brata is the culminating point of meritorious work\nin popular estimation, promising to the performer the perpetual\nenjoyment of connubial happiness, which is more valued by a Hindoo\nfemale than all the riches of Golconda.\n\nIt is annually celebrated in the Bengalee month of Joysto both by widows\nand by women whose husbands are alive, by the former, in the hope of\naverting the evil in another life, by the latter, in the expectation of\ncontinuing to enjoy conjugal bliss both in this world and the next.\n\nOn the celebration of this Brata on the fourteenth night of the decrease\nof the moon, the husband, being dressed in clean new clothes, is made to\nsit on a carpet, the wife, previously washing and drying his feet, puts\nround his neck a garland of flowers and worships him with sandal and\nflowers, wrestling hard in prayer for his prolonged life. This being\ndone, she provides for him a good dinner, consisting of different kinds\nof fruits, sweetmeats, sweet and sour milk and ghee-fried _loochees_,\n&c. It should be mentioned here that a widowed lady offers the same\nhomage to the god, Naraian, in the place of a husband.\n\nThe usual incantation is read by the priest, and she repeats it\ninaudibly, the substance being in harmony with her cherished desire. He\ngets his usual fee of two or four rupees and all the offerings in rice,\nfruits, sweetmeats, clothes, brass utensils, &c. If not dead, a woman\nhas to perform this Brata regularly for fourteen long years, at the end\nof which the expense is tenfold more, in clothes, beddings, brass\nutensils, and an entertainment to Brahmins, friends and neighbours, than\nin the ordinary previous years.\n\nBesides the Bratas described above, there are many others of more or\nless note, which are annually observed by vast numbers of females, who,\nfrom their early religious tendencies, seem to enjoy a monopoly of them.\nIt is, however, a singular fact that the primary object of all these\nreligious vows is the possession of all sorts of worldly happiness,\nseldom supplemented by a desire of endless blessedness hereafter. This\nis unquestionably a lamentable desideratum in the original conception\nand design of the popular Hindoo Shastras, clearly demonstrating its\nsuperficiality and poverty.\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX.\n\nNOTE A.\n\nOBSERVANCES AND RITES DURING PREGNANCY.\n\n\nFrom the period of conception a woman is enjoined by way of precaution,\nto live under certain rules and restrictions, the observance of which is\nto ensure a safe delivery as well as the safety of the offspring. She is\nnot allowed to put on clothes over which birds of the air have flown,\nlest their return might prolong the period of her delivery. She fastens\na knot to one end of the _Achal_ of her _Saree_[128] and keeps it tied\nabout her waist, and spits on her breast once a day before washing her\nbody, and is not allowed to sit or walk in the open compound in order to\navoid evil spirits; as a safeguard against their inroads, she constantly\nwears in the knot of her hair a slender reed five inches long.\n\nWhen in a state of pregnancy, a Hindoo female is treated with peculiar\ncare, tenderness and affection. She is generally brought from her\nfather-in-law's house to that of her father, where all the members of\nthe family shew her the greatest love lest she should not survive the\nthroes of childbirth. Indeed the first childbirth of a young Hindoo girl\nis justly considered a struggle between life and death. As a religious\nsafeguard and guarantee for safe delivery, she is made to wear round her\nneck a small _Madoolee_ (a very small casket made of gold, silver, or\ncopper), containing some flowers previously consecrated to _Baba\nThacoor_[129] and to drink daily until her delivery a few drops of holy\nwater after touching it with the _Madoolee_.\n\nIt is perhaps generally known that a Hindoo girl is married between 9\nand 12 years of age--an age when her European sister would not even\ndream of being united in the bonds of wedlock; and the natural\nconsequence is, she becomes a mother at thirteen or fourteen years. An\neminent writer who had studied the subject carefully thus remarks: \"Till\ntheir thirteenth year, they are stout and vigorous; but after that\nperiod, they alter much faster than the women in any of the nations of\nEurope.\" Her tender age, her sedentary life, her ignorance of the laws\nof hygiene, the common dread of childbirth, the want of proper midwives\nas well as of timely medical aid (should any be necessary), conspire\nsometimes to cause an untimely death. She must continue to observe many\nprecautions until her accouchement is completed.\n\nIn the fifth month of her pregnancy takes place her _Kacha Shad_.[130]\nThe day must be an auspicious one according to Hindoo astrologers, and\nshe is treated that day with special indulgence, inasmuch as all the\ndelicacies of the season are given to her without restriction. In the\nseventh month she is treated with _Bhaja Shad_, when she eats with a few\nother females (whose husbands and children are all alive) all sorts of\nparched peas and rice as well as _Methais_ and other sweetmeats; in the\nninth month, the _Paunchamrita_[131] ceremony is held, when she is made\nto wear a red-bordered _Akhanda_ Saree (a piece of cloth ten cubits long\nwith the edges uncut), which is preserved with the greatest care lest\nany jealous and mischievous woman who has lost her children, should\nclandestinely cut and take away a portion of the same, which is\nconsidered a very portentous omen for the preservation of the new born\nbabe.\n\nOn the celebration of _Paunchamrita_ above mentioned the officiating\npriest, after repeating the usual incantation, pours into her mouth a\nlittle of the delicacies, without the same coming in contact with her\nteeth. She is forbidden to eat anything else that day except fruits and\nsweetmeats; and then a good day is appointed for the celebration of the\ngrand final _Shad_, when all the female relatives and connections of the\nfamily are invited. In Calcutta, Hindoo females of respectability are\nnot permitted to be seen, much less to walk in the streets; they live in\na state of perfect seclusion, entirely apart from the male members of\nthe family, it being considered a very great disgrace should a\nrespectable female be in any way exposed to public gaze. The very\nconstruction of a Hindoo family dwelling house clearly indicates the\nprevalence of the close zenana system; the inmates must have an inner\nand an outer apartment, there must be an inclosed court-yard reached by\ntortuous passages, closed by low constructed doors, through which one\nhas to wriggle rather than to walk; the sun seldom shines into it; small\ncontracted staircases, foul confined air, no circulation or ventilation\nare the result: the noxious effluvia evaporating from this or that side\nof the house, especially from the lower floor, is a nuisance which the\ninmates put up with, with scarcely any complaint. The drainage and\nwater works have certainly effected considerable improvement towards the\npromotion of cleanliness, but still the dirty and filthy state of most\nof the family dwelling houses is a notorious fact. By a small door only\nthere exists a communication between the inner and outer apartment;\nshould the house be a small one, say from three to four _cottahs_, which\nis generally the case in such a crowded city as Calcutta, and should the\nwomen talk loud enough to be heard by men outside, they are not only\ninstantly checked but severely reprimanded for the liberty. The great\nprivacy of the close zenana system is, however, broken by females being\nobliged to travel in a Railway carriage: though Hindoos of rank,\nwhenever they have occasion to go on pilgrimage by Rail, generally\nengage a reserved compartment for the females, yet they cannot manage to\npreserve absolute privacy when going into or coming out of the carriage\nat the Railway Stations.\n\nTo return to the grand final _Shad_, on the day appointed an awning is\nput up over the court-yard of the house. _Palkees_ are sent to each of\nthe families invited; and the guests (nearest female relatives) begin to\ncome in from ten in the morning; a general spirit of hilarity prevails\non all sides, noise and bustle ensue, the women are busy in receiving\ntheir guests, preparations are being made for the grand feast, the men\noutside direct the _Palkee_ bearers where next to go, the little\nchildren have their own share of juvenile frolic, the young damsels and\nthe aged matrons are seen speaking to their respective friends with\nmutual love, affection and confidence; and signs of joviality and\nconviviality are seen every where. It is on such occasions that women\nunbosom themselves to each other, and freely and unreservedly\ncommunicate their feelings, their thoughts, their wishes, nay their\nsecrets to friends of congenial spirit and temper; their conversation\nknows no end, their amiable loveliness almost spontaneously developes\nitself; they unburden their minds of the heavy load of accumulated\nthoughts; their joys and sorrows, their happiness and misery, their\nsympathy and emotion, pleasurable or painful, have their full scope. If\nthey are naturally garrulous they become more so at such a jovial\nassemblage, so that one can dive deepest down into their hearts on such\nan occasion. Many a matrimonial match is proposed and matured at such\nmeetings, and to crown the whole, sisters of kindred spirit embrace each\nother with all the warmth of genuine love and affection. If their minds\nare contracted by reason of scanty culture, their hearts are full of\naffection, sympathy and susceptibility, which cannot fail to exercise a\nbeneficial influence on human nature.\n\nOn such occasions, females are allowed to have some amusement or\n_tamasha_, according to their liking, (but of course not such as betrays\na vitiated taste, overstepping the bounds of decorum, which was the case\nsome years back). Dancing girls and _Panchalleys_ are entertained, who\ncontribute not a little to the amusement of the assembled guests.\nImmured within the walls of a close zenana they are seldom suffered to\nenjoy such unrestrained liberty. Otto of roses, rose water out of gold\nor silver pots, nosegays, and _paun_ or betel are freely distributed\namong them. They sit on benches or chairs, or squat down barefooted on\n_forash bichana_ (a clean white sheet), and enjoy the _tamasha_ to their\nhearts' content. These amusements continue till evening, entertaining\nthe guests with songs on gods and goddesses (Doorga, Krishna and his\nmistress, Radha): those relating to Doorga have a reference to the ill\ntreatment she experienced at the hands of her parents, but those\npertaining to Krishna and Radha tell of his juvenile frolics with his\nmother and the milk-maids, and amorous songs on disappointed love,\nwhich, though they may appear harmless to their worshippers, have\nnevertheless a partial tendency to debase the minds of females. By way\nof encouragement, the singing and dancing girls receive, besides their\nhire, presents of money, clothes and shawls, according to the\ncircumstances of the parties retaining them. To do our women justice,\nhowever, it is pleasing to reflect that the progress of enlightenment\nhas of late years wrought a salutary change in their minds. Instead of\nthe former _Kabees_ (songs) which were shamefully characterised by the\nworst species of obscenity and immorality, they have imbibed a taste for\nmore sober and refined entertainments. Moral and intellectual\nimprovement amongst perfectly secluded females is a sure harbinger of\nnational regeneration. The young and the sprightly, as is naturally to\nbe expected, enjoy these amusements most; but the more elderly and\nthoughtful females make the best of the opportunity in conversation\nabout domestic affairs with those of their own age and kinship. They\nhave certainly no distaste for these frivolous entertainments, but the\nthoughts and cares of home press more heavily on their minds. Age and\nexperience have taught them to regard the enjoyment of unalloyed\ndomestic felicity as the chief end of life. A good Hindoo housewife is a\nmodel of moral excellence.\n\nAbout four o'clock in the afternoon, when almost all the guests are\nassembled together, long parallel rows of _pirays_, or wooden seats, the\none quite apart from the other--are arranged in straight lines in the\ncourt-yard, in the midst of which is placed the seat of the pregnant\ngirl, which, by way of distinction, is painted white with rice paste\n(_alpana_) with appropriate devices. Adorned with ornaments of\nglittering gold, bedecked with precious stones, and dressed in an\nembroidered Benares _Saree_, she walks gracefully towards her particular\nseat, which is a signal for others (widows excepted) to follow; they all\nsquat down on the wooden seats, before which are placed small pieces of\ngreen plantain leaves and a few little earthen plates and a cup, which\nare intended to serve the purposes of plates and glasses. Before her\nstands a light, a _conch_ is sounded, and a rupee with which her\nforehead is touched is kept for the gods, for safe delivery. Fruits of\ndifferent kinds, about fifteen or sixteen sorts of sweetmeats,\n_loochee_, _kachoory_, _papur_ (flour fried with ghee) in the shape of\n_chappatees_, vegetable curries of several kinds, sweet and sour milk,\nare provided for the guests, the female relatives of the girl serving as\nstewards. No adult male member of the family is allowed to assist in the\nfeast, because Hindoo females blush to eat before men. Being most\npre-eminent in point of caste, Brahmin women are served _first_. Here\nthe rules of caste are strictly observed, and no departure therefrom is\ntolerated. It is not uncommon that uninvited females, or more properly\nspeaking, intruders contrive by some means or other, to mix with the\ncompany; but they are soon singled out by the more shrewd and\nexperienced, and to their chagrin and disappointment, instantly removed\nfrom their seats. They do not, however, go away with curses on their\nlips, but receive a few things and are ordered to leave the house\nwithout a _Palkee_.[132]\n\nAfter the feast is over, the women, washing their hands and mouths,\nexpress their good wishes for the safe delivery of the girl, and make\npreparations for returning home. Here confusion and bustle ensue\nconsequent on the simultaneous desire of all to return home _first_, and\nas the sun begins to set, their anxiety becomes more intense to see the\nfaces of their absent children; laying aside their wonted modesty, some\nof them almost unblushingly make a rush and enter the _first Palkee_\nthat comes in their way, regardless alike of their sex and the rules of\ndecorum. If 100 families are invited, about ten _Palkees_ are retained.\nHackney carriages are sometimes substituted in place of _Palkees_, but\nwhatever arrangements are made it is next to impossible to satisfy at\nleast 200 people at one and the same time. The guests are never expected\nto find their own conveyances. Before coming, some of them keep the\nPalanquin waiting for an hour or so, while they are engaged at their\ntoilet and adorning their persons with divers ornaments. It is not\nunfrequently the case on such occasions that females in poor\ncircumstances borrow ornaments from their more prosperous friends, in\norder to appear in society to the best advantage. In the absence of\nmental accomplishments, Hindoo ladies necessarily set a high value on\nthe jewels about their persons. Some twenty years back, massive articles\nof gold were considered the most _recherche_ ornaments, so much so that\nsome rich ladies were adorned with gold articles alone to the weight of\n6 or 7 lbs.; to an English lady, this might appear incredible, but it is\na fact which does not admit of any contradiction. Hindoo females are\nreligiously forbidden to wear gold ornaments about their feet, it being\nconsidered a mark of disrespect to _Lukxmee_ (goddess of prosperity,)\nhence they put on pairs of solid massive silver _malls_ or anklets,\nweighing sometimes about 3 lbs.; though such massive articles are a\ngreat incumbrance to the free motion of the limbs, they are nevertheless\nused with great pleasure. Indeed it has been sarcastically remarked that\nwere a Hindoo lady offered a gold _grindstone_ to wear round her neck,\nweighing some 20 lbs. she would gladly accept the offer and go through\nthe ordeal. But as the spread of English education has improved the\nminds of the people, it has likewise improved their taste; instead of\nmassive gold ornaments, ladies of the present day prefer those of\ndelicate diamond cut workmanship, set with pearls and precious stones\nsuch as _chick_, _sittahaur_, _tarahaur_, _seetee_, _tabij_, _bajoo_,\n_jasum_, _nabaruttun taga_, bracelets of six or seven patterns, and\near-rings of three or four kinds, for which girls in very early youth\nperforate their ears in 8 or 10 places, as also their noses in two\nplaces. By their choice of the modern ornaments they shew their\npreference for elegance to mere weight. Brilliant Pearl necklaces[133]\nof from seven to nine rows, and costly bijouteries of modern style,\nhave superseded the old-fashioned solid gold _Bhawootees_ and _Taurs_. A\nrich lady is sometimes seen with jewellery worth 15,000 to 20,000 Rupees\nand upwards; as a matter of course, such a lady is the cynosure of all\neyes, and the rest of the company move as satellites round the primary\nplanet. Conscious of her superiority in this respect and puffed up with\nvanity she disdains to hold converse with her less fortunate sisters.\nShe is tramping, as it were, \"to the tinkling sound of the ornaments of\ngold and gems on her person.\" As the grand centre of attraction, her\ngait, her gestures, her movements form the subject of general criticism,\nand as an object of envy she continues to be talked of even after the\nreturn of the guests to their homes.\n\nIn the villages, however, silver ornaments are more in vogue than gold\nones, simply because the rural population have neither the taste nor the\nmeans of the people of the city. As a rule, the Hindoos invest their\nsavings in gold and silver which is turned to good account in times of\nneed and distress. Throughout Hindoosthan, the people have so great a\n_penchant_ for gold and silver ornaments that not only women but men\nalso adorn their persons with solid articles of sterling gold. I have\nseen Setts (shroffs) and Malgoozars go about with ornaments of\nconsiderable value; their dress, however, is generally exceedingly\ntawdry, and bears no correspondence to the worth of the articles of gold\nthey carry about. I once weighed a solid pure gold chain worn by a Sett\nround his waist, which the natives call _Gote_, weighing over 4 lbs.,\nworth about 3,000 Rupees.\n\nIn Bengal little children are seen with gold ornaments on their\npersons[134] till they are 6 years of age, but adults are entirely free\nfrom this passion. When a male child is born to a respectable Hindoo,\nthe heart of the mother irresistibly yearns to adorn its person with\nornaments, especially at the time of _vath_ (christening), _i. e._, at 6\nmonths of age for a male and 7 months for a female child.\n\nWhen the females return home after the entertainment, it is truly a\nscene of \"sorry to part, happy to meet again.\" It is seldom that such\nopportunities are afforded them to give free vent to their feelings,\nthoughts and wishes;--a human being always feels unhappy at living in a\nperfectly isolated state; he or she naturally longs for society, and\nthis longing is alike manifest in both sexes. The greater the restraint,\nas in the case of Hindoo ladies, the stronger the desire for social\nintercourse. Can a zenana Hindoo lady with her veiled modesty suppress\nthe impulse to look about through the shutters of a closed Palkee, with\nguards on both sides, in the light of day? The impulse is by no means a\ncriminal one but is prompted by the irresistible influence of nature.\nThe parting exclamation on such occasions is, \"Sister, when shall I have\nthe good fortune to see you again?\" \"Why, not before long,\" is the\ncommon reply. The consummation of the desire, if long deferred,\nnaturally produces feelings of discontent. A few days after the feast\nthe families that were invited, give a tangible proof of their regard\nfor the pregnant girl by making her presents of clothes and sweetmeats\naccording to their respective circumstances, as a matter of course the\nnearest relatives making the richest presents.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[128] A Saree is a piece of cloth, 5 yards long with colored borders.\n\n[129] A Hindoo god generally kept by the lower orders of the people,\nsuch as _Domes_, _Charals_ and _Bagthees_.\n\n[130] _Kacha_ means raw; the term _Shad_ is synonymous with desire. The\nceremony is so called from the female being allowed that day to eat all\nkinds of native pickles, preserves, sweetmeats, confectionery, several\nkinds of fruits then in season, sweet and sour milk, &c., but not rice\nor any sort of food grains. Her desire is gratified, lest the girl\nshould not survive the childbirth. It should be mentioned here that from\nthe second month of her pregnancy, she feels a great longing to eat\nPathkhola (a sort of half burnt very thin earthen cake) which pregnant\ngirls relish very much on account of its peculiar _sodha_ flavour.\n\n[131] _Paunchamrita_ means five kinds of delicacies, the food of the\ngods, consisting of milk ghee (clarified butter), dhahie (curded milk),\ncowdung and honey.\n\n[132] A rather contemptible practice still lurks in the Hindoo community\nat the time of dining on such public occasions. The females for the most\npart place a portion of the dinner aside for the sake of carrying it\nhome for their absent children; even a rich woman feels no hesitation or\nhumiliation in following the example of her less fortunate sisters. We\ncan only account for this unseemly practice on the supposition that the\nHindoo ladies do not like to partake of good things without sharing them\nwith their beloved children at home. The wish is not an unnatural one\nbut the practice most unquestionably _is_. In making provision for a\ngrand feast, the Hindoos are obliged to treble the quantity of food for\nthe number of guests invited, specially when it is a _pucca jalpan_,\nconsisting of _loochees_ and _sundeshes_ (sweetmeats). If they invite\n100 families they must provide for about 300 persons, for the reasons\nspecified above. It is a pity that in a matter of public entertainment\nboth males and females cannot resist the temptation of appropriating a\nportion of the food to other than the legitimate purpose. Here feminine\nmodesty is violated by infringing the ordinary rules of etiquette.\n\n[133] That the Hindoos have, for a long time, manifested a strong\npassion for ornaments, is a historical fact. Even so far back as the\nMahratta dynasty, it was said of Dowlut Rao Sindhia that \"his necklaces\nwere gorgeous, consisting of many rows of Pearls, as large as small\nmarbles, strung alternately with emeralds\". The Pearl (_moti_) was his\npassion and the necklace was constantly undergoing change whenever a\nfiner bead was found; the title of \"Lord of a hundred Provinces\" was far\nless esteemed by him than that of _motiwalla_ the \"Man of Pearls,\" by\nwhich he was commonly designated in his Camp. It was perhaps a sight of\nthis description that led Macaulay to say--\"Our plain English coats\ncommand more respect than all the gorgeous orient pearl of the East,\"\nindicating thereby the involuntary awe of savage for civilized life.\n\n[134] Such as _Bore_, _Komurpatta_, _Nimfull_, _Neyboofull_, _Ghoomur_\nround the waist, _Tabeej_, _Bajoo_, _Balla_, _Jasum_, _Taga_, &c. on the\nhands, pearl and gold necklaces of various sorts and gold mohurs or\nsovereigns strung together in the shape of a necklace.\n\n\n\n\nNOTE B.\n\nTHE GODDESS SOOBACHINEE.\n\n\nThe following is the story of this goddess:--In a certain village there\nlived a poor Brahmin boy, whose poverty was well-known throughout the\nneighbourhood. One day a fisherman came to sell some fish, on seeing\nwhich the boy began to cry for them. His mother, a poor aged widow,\nthough very desirous to satisfy the craving of her son, had\nunfortunately no means to buy them, whereupon the fisherwoman affected\nby the cries of the boy, offered to give her credit and said she would\ncome for the price on her way home. Meantime the mother cooked the fish;\nbut before her son had time to eat them, the fisherwoman, according to\nher promise, returned for the price. The old woman being still unable to\npay, the fish vendor demanded the return of the fish, which, though\ncooked, she was willing to take back. This being done, the boy, however,\nhad the advantage of tasting the soup made of the fishes and was so much\npleased with the taste of animal food that he could not resist the\ntemptation of stealing one day a _lame_ duck belonging to the king, and\neating it privately. Investigation being made, the theft was traced to\nthe poor Brahmin boy, who being summoned before the king, was tried,\nconvicted and sentenced to be imprisoned, at which the mother became\ninconsolable. Seeing her distress and despondency, the goddess Doorga,\nin the form of _Soobachinee_, appeared to her in a dream, and, giving\nher hopes of consolation and better luck for the future, eventually\nadvised her to perform the worship of the goddess _Soobachinee_. In\nobedience to the above injunction, she did as she was directed.\nSeventeen ducks made of rice-paste (sixteen with two perfect legs and\none with a lame leg) formed a part of the ceremony. After the\nperformance of the worship and the expiatory rite of _homa_ (burnt\noffering) which expiates all sin, the holy water being sprinkled on the\nfeathers of the stolen _lame_ duck, that were concealed under the ashes,\nthe devoured duck was at once restored to life and sent back to the\nking's poultry-yard. The miraculous resuscitation of the duck was\nbrought to the notice of the king, who immediately sent for the poor old\nwoman and questioned her how the dead _lame_ duck was made alive again;\nthe old woman, trembling through fear, related all the particulars about\nthe appearance of the goddess in a dream. The king, being satisfied as\nto the truth of the tale, ordered the captive boy to be released at once\nand brought to his presence, concluding that the goddess must have been\nvery propitious to the old woman and her son. Consulting his ministers\non the subject, he said within himself he could not have a better match\nfor his daughter, who was of marriageable age, than the late delinquent.\nSo the nuptials were duly solemnized with becoming pomp, and the poor\nBrahman family lived ever after in a state of great affluence and\nhappiness. Hindoo ladies of the orthodox school learn this tale almost\nin their nursery, and feel a peculiar delight in reciting it on certain\noccasions.\n\n\n\n\nNOTE C.\n\n\nThe writings of the ancient Hindoo sages, as handed down to us by\nhistory and tradition, incontestably prove that they were chiefly\ntheists; but as their religious ideas were supremely transcendental, ill\nsuited to the comprehension of the great mass of the people, and\nconsequently not adapted to bring joy, peace and rest to the mind, their\ndescendants learnt to modify those ideas and practically reduce them to\nthe level of the popular understanding. They gradually created a\nTrinity, _i. e._, the Creator, the Preserver, and the Destroyer. But as\nthis triad was not sufficiently attractive or intelligible to the\nunlettered mass, who wanted something in the shape of real, tangible\npersonification of the deity, in place of indistinct, invisible\nsupernatural beings, a designing priesthood subsequently attempted to\nsatisfy their wishes by foisting upon them a whole rabble of gods and\ngoddesses, which are almost as innumerable as the pebbles on the sea\nshore. In numerical strength the Pantheon of the Hindoos far surpasses\nthat of the Egyptians, Greeks, and the Romans. What ancient system of\nmythology contained so many as 330 million gods and goddesses? As in\nmythology, so in chronology, the Hindoos stand unrivalled. Their\npantheon is as capacious and extensive as their antiquity[135] is\nunfathomable and prehistoric. The origin of the Puranic mythology is to\nbe attributed to this national predilection; and the worship of the\nfemale deities with bloody sacrifices is intended to terrify the\nignorant populace into superstitious beliefs still grosser than were\nhabitual to them.\n\nThe antiquity of the Brahminical creed and of the religious systems\nincorporated into, and engrafted on it, has long been a subject of\ninteresting inquiry. It is not my intention to go into the subject more\ndeeply than merely to affirm that it is still a debatable point among\nthe most distinguished orientalists, whether or not the Egyptians and\nGreeks borrowed their system of mythology from that of the Hindoos, and\nafterwards improved on it by divesting it of the grosser excrescences.\nThe character of the Hindoo deities is more or less puerile, impure and\nungodly, not possessing any of the cardinal virtues, such as become the\nliving and true God. Desiring to steer clear of such deformities and\nimpurities, the Greeks and Romans consecrated separate temples to\n\"Virtue, Truth, Piety, Chastity, Clemency, Mercy, Justice, Faith, Hope\nand Liberty.\"\n\nIt is a remarkable fact, says Ward, that \"the sceptical part of mankind\nhave always been partial to heathenism. Voltaire, Gibbon, Hume &c. have\nbeen often charged with a strong partiality for the Grecian and Roman\nidolatries; and many Europeans in India are suspected of having made\nlarge strides towards heathenism. Even Sir William Jones, whose\nrecommendation of the Holy Scripture (found in his Bible after his\ndeath,) has been so often and so deservedly quoted, it is said, to\nplease his Pundit, was accustomed to study the Shastras with the image\nof a Hindoo god placed on his table; and his fine metrical translations\nof idolatrous hymns are known to every lover of verse. In the same\nspirit, we observe, that figures and allusions to the ancient idolatries\nare retained in almost all modern poetical compositions and even in some\nChristian writings.\"\n\nIt has been very wisely remarked by a philosophical traveller, Dr.\nClarke, that \"by a proper attention to the vestiges of ancient\nsuperstition, we are sometimes enabled to refer a whole people to their\noriginal ancestors, with as much, if not more certainty, than by\nobservations made upon their language; because the superstition is\nengrafted on the stock, but the language is liable to change.\" Writing\non the same subject, Sir William Jones remarks, \"if the festivals of the\nold Greeks, Persians, Romans, Egyptians and Goths, could be arranged\nwith exactness in the same form with the Indian, there would be found a\nstriking resemblance among them; and an attentive comparison of them\nall, might throw great light on the religion, and perhaps on the\nhistory, of the primitive world.\"\n\nThe Egyptians described the source of the Nile as flowing from Osiris;\nso the Hindoos represent the holy stream of the Ganges as flowing from\nthe head of Iswara, which Sir William Jones so beautifully describes in\nhis hymn to Ganga:\n\n  \"Above the reach of mortal ken,\n  On blest Coelasa's top, where every stem\n  Flowed with a vegetable gem,\n  Mahasa stood, the dread and joy of men;\n  While Parvati, to gain a boon,\n  Fixed on his locks a beamy moon,\n  And hid his frontal eye in jocund play,\n  With reluctant sweet delay;\n  All nature straight was locked in dim eclipse,\n  Till Brahmins pure, with hallowed lips\n  And warbled prayers restored the day,\n  When Ganga from his brow, with heavenly fingers free,\n  Sprang radiant, and descending, graced the caverns of the west.\"\n\nFor composing such fine metrical translations of idolatrous hymns, Mr.\nFoster finds fault with the conduct of Sir William Jones: he writes, \"I\ncould not help feeling a degree of regret, in reading lately the Memoirs\nof the admirable and estimable Sir William Jones. Some of his researches\nin Asia have no doubt incidentally served the cause of religion; but did\nhe think the least possible direct service had been rendered to\nChristianity, that his accomplished mind was left at leisure for hymns\nto the Hindoo gods? Was not this a violation even of neutrality, and an\noffence, not only against the gospel, but against theism itself? I know\nwhat may be said about personification, license of poetry, and so on,\nbut should not a worshipper of God hold himself under a solemn\nobligation to abjure all tolerance of even poetical figures that can\nseriously seem, in any way whatever, to recognise the pagan divinities\nor abominations, as the prophets of Jehovah would have called them? What\nwould Elijah have said to such an employment of talents? It would have\navailed little to have told him, that these divinities were only\npersonifications (with their appropriate representative idols) of\nobjects in nature, of elements, or of abstractions. He would have\nsternly replied--'And was not Baal, whose prophets I destroyed, the\nsame?'\"\n\nDr. Stiles, President of Yale College in North America, was so highly\nimpressed with the amazing antiquity of the Hindoo Shastras that he\nwrote to Sir William Jones, asking him to make a search among the\nHindoos for the Adamic books. Had he not been a sincere Christian, he\nwould have asked Sir William to send him a translation of a book written\nsome two or three millions of years ago.\n\nGeneral Stewart, who lived in Wood Street, Calcutta, was said to have\nmade a large collection of Hindoo idols, which he arranged in the\nportico of his house. He was so fond of them that, it was said, a\nBrahmin was engaged to perform the daily worship, while he himself led\nthe life of a Hindoo _rishi_ or saint, inasmuch as he totally abstained\nfrom the use of either wine or meat.\n\nSuch instances of partiality on the part of enlightened Christians\ntowards heathenism, we do not see in the present day. In the early times\nof the British settlement in India, there was a strong mania for\nexploring the untrodden field of Braminical learning, and the\nunfathomable antiquity in which it was imbedded. The philosophical\ntheories of the _Munees_ and _Rishis_, their sublime conceptions\nconcerning the origin of the world and the unity of God, their utter\nindifference to worldly concerns and sensual gratifications, their\nliving in sequestered _ashrums_, the practice of religious austerities,\nthe subjugation of passions, and above all, their pure, devotional\nspirit, lent an enchantment to their teachings, which was, in the\nhighest degree, fascinating. It was not an ordinary phenomenon in the\nannals of the human intellect that Europeans, possessing all the\nadvantages of modern civilization, should go so far as to entertain a\nsort of religious veneration for a system of polytheism, which even the\nnatives of the country now-a-days denounce as puerile and absurd. Deeper\nresearches have, however, subsequently dissipated the delusion, and\nthrown on the subject a great body of light, which the progress of\nWestern knowledge is daily increasing.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[135] Such as _Bore_, _Komurpatta_, _Nimfull_, _Neyboofull_, _Ghoomur_\nround the waist, _Tabeej_, _Bajoo_, _Balla_, _Jasum_, _Taga_, &c. on the\nhands, pearl and gold necklaces of various sorts and gold mohurs or\nsovereigns strung together in the shape of a necklace.\n\n\n\n\nNOTE D.\n\nTHE BAMACHAREE FOLLOWERS OF KALI.\n\n\nIn some parts of Bengal and Assam, there still exists a sect of Hindoos,\nknown by the name of _Bamacharees_, or the followers of the female\nenergy, who practise a series of _Poornabishaka_ orgies in the name of\nthis celestial goddess which are nothing less than abominable. The\nfollowing is a rough programme of the rite. The Brahmin who is to\nperform the ceremony sits upon a sham image of the goddess in a private\nroom, having beside him at the same time a quantity of flowers, red\nsandal paste, holy water, copper pans, plantain and other fruits, green\nplantain leaves, parched peas, cooked fish and flesh, and a certain\nquantity of spirituous liquor. When night approaches he takes the\ndisciple who is to be initiated into the room, with nine females and\nnine males of different castes, with one female for himself and another\nfor the disciple, and makes them all sit down on the floor. Taking up a\nsmall copper pan and a little of the holy water, he sprinkles it on all\npresent and then proceeds with closed eyes to repeat a solemn\nincantation to the following effect: \"O goddess, descend and vouchsafe\nthy blessings to Horomohun (the name of the devotee) who has hitherto\ngroped in the dark, not knowing what thou art; these offerings are all\nat thy service\"; saying this, he whispers in his ear the root of the\n_mantra_. From that time the goddess becomes his guardian deity. The\nBrahmin Gooroo then goes through divers other formulas, pausing for a\nwhile to serve and distribute liquor in a human skull or cocoanut shell\nto all the devotees, himself setting the example first. He next desires\nthe females to lay aside their clothes, and bids his new disciple adore\nthem as the living personifications of the goddess. Eating and drinking\nnow go on freely, the males taking what is left by the females. Towards\nthe close of the ceremony, the disciple, baptised in liquor, makes\npresents of clothes and money to the priest and all the men and women\npresent. It is easy to conceive what sort of devotional spirit is evoked\nby the performance of these abominable orgies. Happily for the interests\nof morality in this country, the sect is nearly extinct, except in the\nmost obscure parts of Assam and Bengal.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nTranscriber's Notes: Obvious printer errors have been corrected.\n\nMany words are not consistently accented, as in \"charpoy\" and \"charpoy\",\n\"Basarghur\" and \"Basurghur\", Shrad and Shrad. They have been left as is.\n\nBoth \"labour\" and \"labor\" appear.\n\nPage 300 right double quote supplied:  Even so far back as the\nMahratta dynasty, it was said of Dowlut Rao Sindhia that \"his necklaces\nwere gorgeous, consisting of many rows of Pearls, as large as small\nmarbles, strung alternately with emeralds.","title":"The Hindoos as They Are: A Description of the Manners, Customs and the Inner Life of Hindoo Society in Bengal","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":107024}