CHAPTER VII.

DOMESTIC LIFE, EDUCATION, ETC.

According to their ideas of good and bad, the Hindoos teach their children in their early days to love the former and shun the latter. They are taught to fear the gods, love their parents, respect the aged, and adhere to all the institutions of their ancestors, social or religious. As the result of such careful, regular training, a great many children do and say what they have no conception of, like the birds which the Hindoos teach to utter words. With a view to give some idea of this training, I would first notice the early days of the Hindoo children, but feel sorry that I have to begin with something quite ridiculous. It is the fear of the Vooths or devils,--the spirits of men, women, cows, &c., dying under peculiar circumstances. The number of these wicked spirits is immensely large in countries through which the sacred Gunga does not pass, because its sanctifying influences drive them a great way off. Again, as it is believed that those who breathe their last on the lap of their “Mother Gunga” with the consciousness of their approaching end, and say, “This is Gunga, and I am dying,” are conducted to heaven, almost all the sick persons are led thither to die. Hence there are only very few devils near the Gunga. The Hindoo mother sitting by the cradle of her baby sings the names of the demons as her lullaby. My dear mother had the following, which she was wont to sing when the children would cry and would not go to bed, or made any noise. “I am Ear-cutter, live on the palm-tree and cut the ears of the noisy children.” Such songs always have immediate effects; the little ones stop crying and hide their faces under the arms of their mother. As these grow older and are able to understand words, the lullaby turns to be a story of devils, tigers, lions, &c. After dark the mother, father, or the servants gather round them a youthful auditory, and tell them long stories of the devils,--how they wander about in the night, especially on dark nights; go from one to the other end of the village by a single step; encounter bad men in their nocturnal rounds, and require them to recite their prayers. The men or children who cannot say their prayers meet with very disagreeable experiences from their hands. These stories, too, have great influence upon the children; they learn their lessons, prayers, and hymns, by heart before they come across a devil, who is pretty sure to examine them as to their acquirements. The devils have their castes and orders; the spirit of a Brahmun is Doithó; of a woman, Patné; of low caste, in general, Vooths; of a miser, Joc; of a glutton, Pisha, etc.

The children learn the names of the male and female deities, and thank them when they go to bed. The mother takes her babe to the temple, and bends its head before the idols, if it be too young to show voluntary expressions of reverence. Often we find little boys or girls going to the temple with their parents, holding fruits in their hands.[6]

The discipline at the table is peculiar. The Hindoos do not use knives, forks, and spoons at their tables; but they teach their children to make good use of, and to handle delicately, the tools they have, viz. their fingers. The children must sit decently in their places, must not scoop away the contents of the plate at once, nor put their fingers into their mouths up to the whole length. To leave one’s seat before others have finished their eating is regarded as an insult to the party. It is not only an insult, but more than that, as the party would not eat any more and would leave their seats accordingly. The Brahmuns do not touch each other while at meals; if accidentally they should do so, the oldest of the party ceases to eat, but sits quietly until the end, when he leaves his seat with the rest, and does not eat any cooked food till evening. Anything left on the plate, whatever be its quality or quantity, is not taken into the kitchen or closet in order that it may be used again. Hence they take what they can eat, and the remainder is given to the servants, who are always from the low castes.

Discipline at the school is as follows. Love to the teacher, respect to his person, obedience to his commands, and attention to his teaching, are strictly insisted upon in our scholastic career. The Hindoo boys (for the girls are not sent to the schools or anywhere else for instruction, there being no such thing as female education) are taught first of all to regard, or, I might say, to idolize their teacher. To refuse him a service, or to speak a word before his face in the spirit of defiance, is a sin. Pupils really prostrate themselves before him, and offer prayer to him, as a personification of knowledge. So much confidence is put in him that the boys sometimes pay more attention to his words than they do to those of their parents. For obedience to and confidence in a teacher are preludes to scholastic success. Under any marked circumstances, for instance like the late school question in Boston about reading the commandments, in which the parents and the teacher were opposite parties, each demanding of the child submission, a Hindoo boy would obey the teacher while under his instruction, his sacred position awakening respect. I have known a boy who cared so much for the wants of his teacher, that he would not listen to the paltry excuses of his parents for not meeting them. The teacher had told him to bring his schooling fee, which he wished to remit to his family by a man who was to leave the place the next morning. The boy asked the money from his parents, but did not get it; they said, some time during the week they would forward it to the teacher. This did not satisfy the boy, who, in the absence of his parents, took away a heavy brazen jar, pawned it at a neighbor’s, and brought the money to his teacher. Being desired to give the reasons for his conduct, he replied, “The teacher ought to receive his fee when he needs it, and especially when he wants to send it home, and in due time; and that if they really wished to pay him during the week, they might just as well recover the jar then.” As most of their books are manuscripts, and liable to be torn, spoiled, or lost, the boys are taught to “love them as their friends, and watch and bind them as their prisoners.”

If, carelessly, a boy drops his book on the ground, he picks it up, dusts it with his cloth, bends his head before it, and kisses it with reverence. The judicious care which ought to be taken of books, writing-tools, etc. has grown into a superstition. When a boy touches his book, pen, or inkstand carelessly with his feet, he thanks Shores-shutty, and begs her pardon.

Duty is exacted towards all in the different domestic relations. Parents and all brothers and sisters are objects of reverence, and it is the first and great duty of a child to honor his parents by words, deeds, and affection, as by mouth, hand, and heart. The Hindoo children prostrate themselves before their parents, and, taking the dust of their feet by the hand, put it on their heads,--a way in which the Hindoos show their humiliation towards others. They do not take the names of their parents on their lips, unless it is for the information of others, and even then two or three respectful terms are used before and after each name. It is regarded impolite to inquire the name of a married woman. A separate term of honor is put before the name of a departed father, uncle, etc. To call a person by his name, who is older than one’s self, is an insult to him, as well as a sign of a want of good training in ourselves. In the family, the young boy does not address his older sister or brother as sister Mary, brother George, by their names, but uses, “First brother, First sister, Second brother, Second sister,” etc. A married woman does not, on _any account_, utter the names of her husband, his eldest brother, her father, and mother-in-law, etc., nor sound the very letter which begins their names. For instance, she whose husband’s is Shiba, uses F in the place of S, making _Fiba_. _Goguth_, being the name of a god, is a common name among the Hindoos, and thousands of women say, “Forguth-nauth” when they bow down to the celebrated Jugur-nauth. A man must not touch the person of his younger brother’s wife, unless compelled by some emergency. If he does so in seeming carelessness, he brings the world’s odium on his head. It is not respectful to laugh wildly, and make loose remarks, before father, mother, uncle, aunt, brothers, sisters, cousins, or, in short, before other grown-up persons. In conversation, to look or stare at the face of the person (especially if he or she be older) whom we speak to is very impolite; on the other hand, it does not look well to gaze at a person while he speaks to us.[7] Singing, or playing on any instrument, before grown up persons, especially if they are relations, is improper; hence, pianos or other musical instruments are not household furniture in Bengal. The music is made among persons of the same age, and where no father, uncle, or elder brother is present. This, however, is confined only to the males; Hindoo females do not sing to men or even to themselves. Occasionally, you will hear a girl singing, in a tone sweet yet so low that you will think she has just recovered from a dreadful fever; while her female hearers are on the look-out,--lending one ear to her song, and the other to catch the step of any one who might be coming. Proficiency in music or dancing is not an accomplishment to a Hindoo woman; her accomplishments consist in keeping silence before, and speaking gently to, her friends; in abstaining from wild laughter; in paying attention to the regulations for her sex; in offering due regard to others; in her familiarity with the art of cooking, and her reverence for all holy and pure things. Dancing is strictly forbidden among the males or females of any respectable standing whatever, and it is thought to be degrading, a savage practice, to move about or stretch the limbs with measured steps before an audience. In India, dancing men and women always belong to the disreputable class, who sell their services to the public. The Hindoos believe that the custom of dancing by both sexes originated among the savage people; although it is a main source of pleasure among the enlightened. A Hindoo father would rather see his children walk on crutches than waltz before anybody. Confined as the dancing is to the disreputable people, it is itself a difficult art; every one cannot dance according to rule, unless a systematic instruction is received. There are, I presume, more than forty different kinds of movements. When a girl dances, she imitates the sounds of the music, by means of the ornaments round her ankles. As she gently glides along before you, you will hear the low ringing noise of her ornaments, in perfect harmony with the sound of the music, and this designates the kind of the dancing. But it is to be observed here, that even the disreputable public people do not dance together, male and female leaning against each other’s bosom, and putting their arms round the waist. Among the high castes, any sport requiring the exertion of bodily strength is excluded.

The chess, cards, and other games, similar and superior to backgammon, are the prominent ones. But here, again, age and relation are to be considered. A gentleman does not play with his brother or children, or any nearest relation young or old; for it is impolite to play a game with or before grown-up friends; and, on the other hand, it is showing a shallow character to engage in a game with children. Again, the members of the low castes do not join in the sport with the Brahmun, lest they come so near his sacred person as to touch him with their foot, or to speak wildly to him in the heat of the action. Particular care is taken to teach young boys the art of writing letters to their friends. As each person is to be addressed by peculiar words, expressive of age, position, and relation, etc., there are some fixed rules which are consulted by the writer. In English, “My dear” answers almost every purpose, except in a lawyer’s letter. It is applicable to father, uncle, mother, brother, husband, wife, sister, brother-in-law, priest, children, friends, debtor, creditor, etc.; but in Bengalee the system is quite different. The writer must discriminate between a father and brother-in-law, by addressing each according to the relation he holds to the one who addresses him. In writing to father, mother, uncle, oldest brother and sister, father and mother-in-law, and priest, the address is “Right adorable,” and the writer’s name in all cases is used at the beginning. The address to those younger in years is, the “Object of blessing.” A man addresses the father or mother-in-law of his son or daughter by a distinct phrase, which _could not be_ applied to any other. Low castes observe these rules while writing among themselves; but in case they write to a Brahmun, young or old, the phrase, “Most adorable,” or, “Obedience to thee is my joy,” etc., is used. The following is a sample of a father’s letter to his son:--

“OBJECT OF BLESSING:--

“Know and accept my good wishes and blessing from this. For thy spiritual and temporal welfare I solicit the grace of God unceasingly, and in so doing consists my substantial joy,” etc.

In order to take a long or short journey, especially if undertaken for some important business, a “fortunate hour” is sought for, which the priests designate after consulting the day and its planet (each day, being named after the heavenly bodies, such as Sun, Moon, etc., has its attendant planet). Before starting on the journey, a man prostrates himself before his parents, bows to them reverently, bends his head also before the idols or pictures of the gods, asks their blessing, recites a prayer or two, which are always creed-like and authoritative, and finally bids “Farewell, I come then.” This is answered by, “Let success attend your steps,” “Gods be with you,” etc. If accidentally he should strike or touch his head against a door or wall, or if any one present should shout or sneeze, or if any one should speak to him, he would immediately take his seat for a few minutes. Such interruption is regarded a bad omen, and, if repeated, the journey is to be postponed.

In the streets, all the castes salute the Brahmuns as often as they meet them. The Hindoo would not let the priests go without his salutation. He folds his hands, holds them near his breast, and bends his head, saying, “Salutation to the feet of the Second Born,” at which the Brahmun gently raises his right hand a little, uttering, “Be victorious!” or “Live ever!” or “Blessing be thine!” Unless there be a deep interest or settled familiarity between the parties, they do not speak to each other in the street. Some persons inquire of their friends, “Well, I hope?” “All well at home?” and are responded with, “As you see,” or, “As you will,” etc. The low castes do not walk close by the Brahmuns, nor tread on their shadow, if they can help it. To whistle, sing, or smoke in the street, is ungentlemanly. The very lowest castes are found to do those things. A Hindoo gentleman would not eat anything between his meals in a car or in a carriage. So, in India, the cry of “Candy, sweet oranges, apples, Stewart’s gum-drops!” is not heard in railroad cars.

The tests of gentlemanliness are positive. From early years the children are guarded against falling into evil passion, fighting or quarrelling, etc. The grown-up, high-caste people _very_ rarely come to blows, or even lay hands upon one another. Our parents, sisters, wives, would feel ashamed of us in the extreme if they heard that their children, brothers, or husband were fighting-men. Indeed, it would bring shame upon the whole family if one member of it were found making use of a club, sword, or gun against his brother.

A Hindoo gentleman does not appear before any stranger without arranging his dress; again, _too much_ fixing is regarded foppish. He does not use unkind words to others.

The daily routine of the men is as follows. After washing their mouths, early in the morning, the castes attend to their respective business. The Brahmuns go first to gather flowers for worship, and afterwards attend to the idols at their own houses, as well as at those of their “parishioners.” A great many of them go to teach schools, or work in the courts, hospitals, or mercantile affairs, etc. But these are not all Brahminical. Other castes work until eleven or twelve; after that they bathe, offer prayers to the idols, and take their meals. In the afternoon they go to work again. The priests spend the afternoon in their studies, and in household affairs. Some of them occasionally meet, either in a parlor or in the open air, to play chess. The evening is spent in different ways. The good fathers gather their sons round them, inquire about the studies of the day, and give them instruction in parables and stories. Others go round visiting their friends, hearing music, or attending the meeting frequently held to consider local difficulties. At last, at nine or ten, comes the supper, which is served in their peculiar way.

As to the occupation of the females, I will speak only of the high-caste ones, as the head of the sex to which they belong. The first part of the morning is spent in attending to the sweeping of all the rooms, entries, yard, washing the kitchen, the marble or metallic plates which are used at late tea. These are done mostly by female servants, but as being of a different caste they are not allowed to come to that portion of the kitchen where the cooking-utensils are kept, or to the kitchen at all; the sweeping and washing here are done by the members of the family. The performance of the duties in the kitchen is a difficult one; for if anybody should touch a cooking-pan or a kettle before taking a bath, it would not be used any longer; so such things are placed beyond the reach of little folks. As the utensils are often liable to be touched, they are, however, mostly earthen-ware; so in case they are thrown out, as they often are, the loss is not great. After the sweeping has been done, the women get ready for the bath; anoint their bodies with oil common, or _foo lud_ perfumatory, as circumstances permit. I have seen a rich, handsome, but vain Brahmun woman rub her arms and face with _Kheer_ (thickly boiled milk), that a good fragrance might come from her person! They then go into the river or tank, where hundreds wash themselves together on some holiday. On their way home, the religious as well as elderly portion of them visit the idols in the temple; the young women, however religious, are not often suffered to go to the temple, lest they come into collision with young men who frequent them for this purpose. Reaching home, they help each other in the cooking. As the Hindoos do not set vegetables or fish whole on the table, and use highly seasoned and spiced dishes, great care is taken to dress fish, cut the vegetables, and grind spices. Widows do not eat anything touched by hands that have just dressed fish; so one takes care of vegetables, another of fish, a third grinds spices, and thus they pleasantly alleviate the labor which, if done by one, would be anything but easy, and of course would take more time. The Hindoo way of cooking things is really scientific; and it takes time and requires skill to do it. They do not think much of boiling, baking, frying; alleging, that only those who do not and cannot cook better feel satisfied with them.

Let a Bengalee woman prepare some common leaves or flowers, and, if you eat them, you will hardly know what you are eating. Out of _one_ kind of fish and two or three of vegetables, she would prepare ten different dishes, perhaps, each differing from the other in regard to flavor, taste, and richness. In fact, in some grand feasts, the number of _Ban-juns_, or curries, as called by foreigners, exceeds forty! In the legendary accounts we read of _fifty-four_ Ban-juns used by the gods. As there is no fixed time for taking meals, the men dine when they are ready, either together or separate, and the women afterwards. If there be a female visitor in the family, the newly married daughter-in-law would not eat anything before her, and to meet at the table with _men_ is out of the question. My lady friends, in this country, have often asked me, “Who presides at the table there?” “Who waits upon the gentlemen?” etc.

The mother or any other elderly female serves food to the men, but she does not partake of it with them. If there be only a young woman present to help her husband or his brother, she skilfully manages to look at the condition of the plates, and acts accordingly. Sometimes she gives them what they do not wish for, or more than they can eat. The married women do not sit close by the widows, lest they touch them or their plates; in either case the latter are required by the religious regulation of their order to stop eating. Very commonly the widows do not eat any food cooked by married women, even if they were their daughters.

Immediately after the meal they go to the tank, which is always within a few rods’ distance from the kitchen, for the purpose of washing their hands, mouth, and feet. Almost all young women go into the water and wash the dress they had on while at dinner. Now they use _meeshie_, a kind of black powder to clean their teeth a second time, which, as a national peculiarity, are bright and smooth as pearls. This powder is a preparation of three or four materials; and, although it is black, leaves no darkness on the teeth. It has also a fine taste. The little children, unable to resist the temptation, eat the powder while cleaning their teeth with it.

Then comes the toilet. The head is decorated, the hair fixed with much care and skill. One woman sits behind her friend to fix her hair, which is always dark, thick, flowing, and sometimes so long as to reach the knees. They do not use hair-pins or ribbons; some delicate stitches of thread made in braiding the waste hair are used to tie the _Kho-pă_, or knot, which, when properly made, looks “_splendid_,” as the girls call it. A gay dress is worn, ornaments are put in their proper places, some attar of rose is sprinkled over the dress, hair, &c., and after this the young lady is all right,--ready to receive callers, or to go to parties, if it were customary. But they must see and enjoy praise, comment upon and find fault with each other’s dress or personal accomplishments by themselves, as hardly any outsider, especially a male, gets any chance to see them. Sometimes the women living in houses adjoining assemble in one, where they spend the time in playing cards, telling stories, or feeding on gossip. The subjects of their conversation are the following, which they speak upon briskly, even within the space of a few minutes:--First, the dinner, how it was cooked, by whom, and of what it consisted. Now one regrets she could not succeed very well in cooking fish, and puts too much salt in it; another specifies every material of which the _Ban-jun_ consisted. Second, the ornaments, the price and quality of the gold and silver which they are made of. Third, husbands, their tempers, affections, liberality, and age, etc. Fourth, the property, the dress, ornaments, bodily and mental qualities of the neighbors, etc. In some of these I perceive that human nature is everywhere the same.

In this country the women do not regard it as useless talk, while busy in knitting or sewing, to inquire of the lady with the pink bonnet who made her dress, who cut the pattern, or to speculate upon the wealth of the man Sarah is engaged to, etc.

The Hindoo women have no sewing to do; there is simply a long piece of cloth worn round the body in a graceful manner, forming gown, sack, bonnet, and all. They now and then make fancy articles, such as small baskets covered with broadcloth, and elegantly set with shells of various description, flowers with wax, rags, or paper, hanging sleeves studded and fringed with shells and silk, etc. But these they cannot make money out of, as it would be a disgrace to a family to hold anything made by the gentle sex for sale.

Some poor high-caste woman, however, may dispose of her things privately among her nearest relations. The meeting of the young women in Bengal is often marred with sad incidents; it is quite certain that some one will go home with tears in her eyes, caused by jokes or unkind words of her comrades. Then the friends of the injured take the matter into consideration, and do not hesitate to commit vengeance with fourfold rash words and cursing. As they are not taught to read or write, the rest of their time is spent in telling or hearing legends of gods, stories of demons, tigers, etc.

Now Christian women, only think of the daily occupation of your sisters in Bengal! How would you like to be in your room all the time, to speak to only a few of your own sex, to take your meals in a solitary corner of the kitchen, to consume the golden time in telling or hearing nonsensical stories, worshipping idols made of “wood and stone,” and to die in ignorance and superstition? Would you be willing even for a day to lose the pleasure of reading your Adam Bede, Harper’s or Atlantic Monthlies, or be deprived of the privilege or power to investigate the contents of envelopes forwarded by parents, friends, and beaux? Having had the pleasure of spending a couple of years among you, the knowledge that I have of your condition, privileges, abilities, and culture, I know what answer you would make. Let us then pray to our God and their God that in his good time he would ennoble the condition of his daughters beyond Christendom, and raise noble, earnest souls as missionaries to work in His harvest!

BOOK SECOND.

INTRODUCTION.

The chief object of the following book will be to treat of the religion of the Hindoos.

By religion of the Hindoos, I do not mean the genuine Hindoo religion which was prevalent in India in remote ages,--not the Hindoo religion as it was, but as it is; not what the _Bathăs_ taught, or the _Rheeshies_ lived under, but what the Shastars, Poorans, and Tuntros teach, and the mass, both the Brahmuns and other castes, observe to-day, as the “life and light,” and the absolute way to reach _Goluck_ (pleroma of Krishto, Happiness). What mighty revolutions time achieves in the religious, moral, social, intellectual, and political conditions of men! Read the ancient Scripture of the Hindoos, observe the pure, sublime doctrines they inculcate, watch the Monees and Rheeshies in their cottages of light, attend the court of Ram, Kornos, or Joodhistres, and then come down to the Shastars and the Thejos of the present day. You will be surprised to see the spacious gulf of difference between them. A manifestation of sad change will greet your eyes wherever you cast them,--either on the religion, the language, the manners, or the customs of the people. This sad change has reached the very fibre and nerve of Hindoo life, both external and internal. A noble, large-minded Brahmun, the learned principal of the Government of the Sanscrith College, says in one of his books to this effect, that by careful examination we see the Hindoos of the present day appear quite different from those of ancient times, so much so, that they seem like a different race.

Look at the sad contrasts and corruptions. The ancients believed “_om ākŏ mabŏ thee te ung_;” in English, “there is _one_ God, without a second.” Now the people have hosts of gods whom they daily worship! There was no caste system, none such as we see now,--a system which forbids any close social relations between the members of separate castes. The Brahmuns often used to dine and intermarry with the Khatryas.

We read in the Hindoo religious books that the Brahmuns were often entertained by other castes, thus: Doorbāsha eats the food cooked by Throw-pothee; Krishto, in a Brahmun attire, demands hospitality from Koxmo. Ogusth dines at Hillol and Bathaw-bee’s; Sacoontola gives her hand to Doosh montha. Instances of a similar nature could be cited by hundreds, which would clearly show that the ancient Hindoos had no such religion, manners, and customs as those of the present day. The ancient Hindooism, though far inferior to Christianity, is superior to, and more rational than, the Egyptian, Grecian, or Roman paganisms. Yea, by careful examination, a candid man would see that even Judaism, just as it is, is inferior to the spirit of _Aurjā_.

As I compare carefully the instructions, the ceremonies, the mode of worship, the representation of the Almighty in those two ancient religions, I should suppose that modern Judaism was the corruption of primitive Hindooism, and that in falling into the hands of the nations round Judæa, who had comparatively a dark faith of their own, and on account of its being associated with Christianity, it became the object of their admiration. If the true worship is that which is free from forms, but is in spirit and in truth,--if neither this mountain nor the temple is strictly the seat of God or the place of worship,--if God does not care for sacrifices or incense, but chooses a true and contrite heart,--then the religion which prescribes such forms, no matter when, how, or under what circumstances, is not equal to one which is entirely free from any form or ceremonies. To bring this matter to the light, I would try to illustrate it with distinctness. There is a theory diametrically opposite in its substance to that which the Jews and the Hindoos receive of their respective religions. Even most Christians adhere to the theory, that in the world’s infancy, when the children of clay were not prepared to receive a revealed religion, to digest strong food, the All-wise Creator gave the Jews the law, commanded them to build Him a temple, an altar, to offer sacrifices and burn incense unto Him. But the Brahminical theory is different. It says that Hindoos, in the Sootojoog, or the age of truth, built no marble temple to God, but dedicated the pure, the contrite heart as the seat of Brohmo; used no material offering or incense, but faith, gratitude, and love, in their worship of their Creator.

But in course of time, impurity and injustice increased “with the increase of human population,” the mind of man learned to admire the things around him. His eyes were dazzled with the products of art in its various forms. The life of simplicity gave place to luxury; the pursuit of worldly pleasures so much occupied the attention of man that it seemed impossible for him to spend time in mere speculation concerning an invisible Deity. Shastars came forth to remedy these corruptions, by introducing substitutes for the lost faith. Temples of marble or of precious stone, altars covered with silver and gold, and dazzling images, filled up the length and breadth of the country.

* * * * *

The four great epochs, or the Zoogs, of the Hindoos, which show the peculiar features of the moral and religious condition of the people, have been treated of by several foreign writers. I would simply touch them in order to describe the changes therein. As I do not remember exactly the length of these Zoogs, how many years each contained, I would not dare to speak of them, but feel willing to bring out some leading points for our present use.

The first is called the Shorto, or the age of truth; the second is _Treta_, curiously called so, although it means “Third”; the third is Dwapur; and the fourth, or last, is Kolie, the age of darkness, sin, etc. In the Shorto Zoog, as we read in our ancient books, everything concerning the external or internal appearance of man indicated simplicity and peace. What we read of the simple, rural, righteous lives of Adam, Eve, and Abraham, was exactly so with the Hindoos of the first Age. Their dwelling stood upon peace, supported by pillars of brotherhood, and roofed by love. The inmates were simple in their dress, temperate in their food, childlike in their temper, pure in their affection, and strong in their faith towards God. The lion and the lamb met at the same crib in these cottages of love. No gods or goddesses were known or worshipped then except the Creator, “the Father of all.” They used to address each other by the terms _debŏ_, _dabe_, god and goddess, and to treat, regard, and recognize each other as the creations of Krishto, or by another word, the image of the same. All had the right to draw from out of the great source of spiritual comfort, the sacred Bāthos (Vedas). The loving Father, “Bisho Pitha,” the good spirit, “Porom Aut-on,” was alone worshipped, loved, held as sovereign, recognized everywhere and in every circumstance. Nothing was more earnestly and at first sought as the pearl of unspeakable worth, yea, more than that, as the true destiny, than the true manhood of piety, the path of righteousness, which leads men safely to the great terminus of our career,--the “Shorgo,” the Heaven of God. Other objects of life received but slight attention; the thought, What shall we eat, what shall we drink, and wherewithal shall we be clothed? did not overwhelm them, for they believed in their own proverb, “Those who walk in the path of righteousness get their bread even in midnight;” that is, they know no disappointment, and have hope and faith forever. It must be remembered here, that this proverb of the Hindoos is a parallel to, or at least conveys the same spirit, as that of Christ’s saying, “But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you.” They were not indolent, however; they did not wait until ready-made “manna” would fall from the sky, but attended to husbandry, developed and used their energies to help each other, and at the same time lived a pious, unspotted life.

The following anecdote gives a fair idea of the life of the people of that pure age. Krishto once sent his brother to seek out a poor Brahmun, that he might give him some alms. Accordingly he started on his sacred mission, and encountered a Brahmun in a rice-plantation. He was diligently engaged in picking up the stray grains of rice that had fallen down to the holes in the ground, by means of a stick with some glue on the end of it. Boloram, the brother of Krishto, watched his proceedings a few moments, advanced towards the Brahmun, and addressed him in the following words: “Deleō! (god!) may thy servant know the motive that leads thy hands to seek grains from the furrows in the ground, and not from the waving, golden stalks before thee!” “Child,” the sage replied, “with little labor I can gather these grains from the furrows, and so I do. These stalks, as you see, I have reserved for those warbling tenants of the air, the children of the Most High, whose short bills would not reach the stray grains in holes.” “Blessed sire,” Boloram rejoined, “it will take a long time to gather enough for your daily meal. My brother solicits the hands of a Brahmun, to put some gold into them. Should thy hands leave the things here, and thy feet tread his court, thy servants would deem it a great favor.” He looked towards heaven with deep reverence, and, turning his loving eyes towards Boloram, said: “Smile of Heaven, crown him who loves his fellow-creatures! Child, God has bountifully furnished me with all I need to earn my living. There are others who are not thus blessed. Go to them, child, and entertain them with your brother’s charity.” Krishto, having a curiosity to know more of this Brahmun,--his “piety at home,”--determined to visit him in his cottage. Late in the afternoon, filling his basket with rice, the Brahmun came home; his wife washed his feet, and then cooked the rice. The husband came out to see if there were any guest at the door, and, not finding any, went in, bade his wife to sit at meal, and thanked God for the mercy shown unto them. In the same moment, Krishto, in the disguise of an old Brahmun, appeared at the cottage door and blessed the inmates. They did not touch their food then, but left their seats, and, folding their arms, with reverence addressed their guest. “Joy sheds its charms upon us, this floor is holy at thy touch. Welcome to it! Thy servants, with all they possess, wait for thy command.” Krishto replied, “Peace be to your children!” It would please Brohmo to see us three dine together under this roof, and sing his praise.” “As it pleases our lord, be it so,” said the pious couple. They then divided the food equally among them, and partook of it with gratitude toward the Giver of all. Proceeding no further, I would stop here to speak of other _Zooga_.

The Zoogas that succeed Shorto present a different picture altogether. Men have in some measure departed from the state of simplicity, and have made the frolics of Krishto, with his sixteen hundred female friends, immortal by their genius. Like the Old Testament God he too chooses a favorite people, _Pandubas_, walks with them in their sojourn in the wilderness, brings them back to a land of their own, excites and helps them to fight with their enemies, etc. At one time he tries the faith of Korna, asking him to offer his only child of five years unto him, as did Jehovah of Abraham.

The present age is the Kolie. We who live in it know of course its leading aspect, the “house divided against itself,” the children rise against their parents; unnatural affections and disappointments come thereby; ambition, injustice, selfishness, disregard to holy things, have attained their full power. In the place of one God, the Hindoo worships millions; temples, pagodas, altars, are seen everywhere.

This is the dark age of the Hindoos. The following is an anecdote describing the transition between the Zoogas. In order to teach his favorite servant the knowledge of things, and store his mind with various experiences, Krishto accompanied him to take a survey over the world. They came to a farm where two men, apparently tired, begged them to stop for a moment and help them to adjust a matter that was troubling them very much. The one was a Brahmun, the owner of the farm, and the other a laborer hired to work upon it. As the latter was ploughing the ground, he accidentally turned out a large jar with pearls and jewels in it. Thanking God for his mercy, he ran to the Brahmun with the utmost speed, and informed him of the treasure. He came to the spot and saw the tale was true. The Brahmun told the workman to carry the wealth to his own house, for he saw it first; but he would not, fearing it would be a sin to take away the money found in another’s land. Thus both exhausted their logic in their attempts to convince each other as to his lawful right to the treasure; but to no purpose. Krishto did not mind their appeal, and proceeded on his journey. Shortly after, he returned, and saw both the Brahmun and the workman fighting and bruising each other. Each claimed the wealth. The Brahmun says it was found on his farm, therefore it belongs to him. The workman says he first found it, and it ought to be his. Krishto turned to his servant, and said, “Do you notice the change? It was just before the transition of the Zoogas that the man found the money. It was when _self_ was little regarded; now it is another age when _self_ becomes dominant and exercises absolute sway. The very man who refused the money then is fighting for it now. Look at the change, child.”

The purity, self-denial, innocence, that once graced their lives and homes, now seem restless, as if disgusted with their abodes, and ready to migrate to some more genial sphere. Here and there the banner of ambition floats on the palaces. Luxury succeeds; display and injustice dethrone charity. The heart ceases to be the temple of God. Its every corner is occupied by strange, unchaste, delusive propensities, found where nobler aspirations once dwelt. The altars are to be seen here and there, the offerings of beasts are dedicated unto the gods, ritualism takes the place of the worship in spirit. The great actors upon the stage are Rama and Rabōna, one a god and the other a monster. The conduct of Rabōna was such, that it filled the earth with fear. Both the Shoors and the Oshoors (gods or good men, and the monsters or cruel tyrants) trembled at his presence. The complaints against him grew universal; the gods solicited protection and the interposition of the great Rama, who alone had the power to check the tyrant Rabōna. Accordingly the incarnation of Bishto appears in the world to pour out a healing balm over its injured people. Now it was foretold that the age of Rama will be called Trita, the Third, but the condition of the world demanded his advent earlier, so the age he lived in, though second, being the immediate successor of the First, or Shoto, retained the name Trita, fulfilling the prophecy thereby. We are introduced to Dawpur now, which means the second. What the world sowed in the age previous is coming up luxuriantly in this, but the harvest is by and by. The Trita sows the seeds of confusion, injustice, impurity, ambition; the Dawpur waters them, and the Kolie gives the increase. Among others the chief actor on the stage is Krishto, another incarnation of Bishto. His mission in this is rather delicate in its nature. After the display of heroic deeds to relieve the world, which was groaning under the heavy yoke of Rabōna, he feels tired; perhaps comes to refresh himself, and spend his time in marriage, music, and romance. Handsome in person, a god in nature, active in movements, a good musician, he casts a net of charms around a host of young women, and draws them all out without breaking the net or sinking the vessel. Hindoo legends say that the prime object of his learning to play his Banay was to sing the praise of Radha, wife of Awe-an, and who is also his own wife from eternity.[8]

How much Christianity is needed to regenerate the Hindoos will be shown when I treat of their idolatrous worship, festivals, etc., in the following pages. The great mass of the people, properly speaking, have no idea of God, true humanity, and a future life. In this country, I notice the death of men does not excite so great a horror as it does among the Hindoos. A Christian mother calmly resigns herself to the decree of her God, and commits her treasures to His safe keeping; for she has hopes of meeting them again in her “Father’s mansion.” But I have seen Hindoo mothers who in their ignorance beat their breast, and curse their gods, at the death of their children! They believe that death breaks the chain of love and affection forever! My mother is in the habit (as is common with the Hindoo women) of weeping over the sad remembrance of her lost children and brother: and I used to comfort her by saying, there is a future state where they from the east, west, north, and south will meet in their common home. Indeed, Brahminism is dry, mysterious, sensual, contradictory in itself, and, with its various forms, pleases the senses, but does not meet the thirst of spirituality. It does not, or rather cannot, guide the mistaken, humble the proud, comfort the sorrowing, and teach us in all the vicissitudes of life to repose our trust in the saying, “_Thy will be done_.” It has sanctioned the worship of _thirty-three million_ of gods and goddesses, most of whom you will find in this world, and in the sky. Of course the Brahmuns say they do not worship these hand-made idols; these are only the representatives of the unseen deities; but the lower castes, the large portion of the people, take them for the gods themselves. I admit the Brahminical ordinances have some hidden beauty underlying them; but the time has come when everything which aims to promote the temporal or spiritual condition of man ought to be as clear as spring, as accessible as air, and as bright as the sun. Certainly the time has come for the dim lights, here and there, to be absorbed by the great salutary Light,--for the return of the erring children to their Father’s home, that they may bend their knees before the throne of Grace.

Being born and trained in a Brahmun family, I well know the magnitude of its superstitious life. Almost every day you will hear of the institution of a new mode of worship, and the discovery of some new idol. The people, especially the young men, are tired of these things. Being educated in the missionary and government schools, under the influence of European knowledge, these young men prove strong obstacles to the bigoted Hindoos in their discovery of new idols. I know hundreds who used to drag the images from their seats, and place them somewhere in the road, fields, or some dirty places. On my way to a friend’s house, with an image of Shalgram, I looked at it to see whether a trace of divinity or life could be seen in it or not; and finding but a round, smooth, black pebble, I dropped it on the ground. The poor senseless thing fell into a bush, and I had to hunt for it nearly ten minutes. Not only enlightened young men do such things, but some priests themselves place and replace idols for their own interest. In Krishto-poor, a village nearly twelve miles northwest of Calcutta, there is a stone image of Shiba, which they say is full of life, power, and compassion. Whether it is naturally so, or carved to signify this, I cannot tell. It has a rough, thorny surface. A story says that the “_mool-shun-ash_” (head votary) had been sick of small-pox for several days, and in the night before the Shun-ash, the god, took the small-pox in his own body, enabling thereby the sick man to join the festival. Some one, hoping to secure the living idol in his own hand, and to trouble its former priest, stole it away in the gloom of night, and it was not seen for years. They erected another in its stead, but lately the old fellow, tired of seclusion, lone and homesick, came again to his former place.

Now I will begin to treat of the Hindoo worship, religious festivals, and ceremonies; and, to aid the reader, I will describe the circumstances which gave rise to these things. Foreign writers describe them as they see them outwardly. Each of them has some meaning, good or bad, rational or foolish. To narrate these things in order and precision, I will begin from the month Bois-ak, April, which is the first month of the Hindoo year, and will describe the holidays, festivals, worships, etc., that come in the successive months. It ought to be said here, that, owing to the changes in the almanac, the increase or decrease of the days in the month, the holidays sometimes vary their time; thus the car of Juggernauth is drawn on the 27th of June, or sometimes early in July.