CHAPTER XII.

* * * * *

BOMBAY--(_Continued_).

* * * * *

The Climate of Bombay treacherous in the cold season--The land-wind

injurious to health--The Air freely admitted into Rooms--The

Climate of the Red Sea not injurious to Silk dresses--Advice to

lady-passengers on the subject of dress--The Shops of Bombay badly

provided--Speculations on the site of the City, should the seat of

Government be removed hither--The Esplanade--Exercise of Sailors

on Shore and on Ship-board--Mock-fight--Departure of Sir Henry

Fane--Visit to a fair in Mahim Wood--Prophecy--Shrine of Mugdooree

Sahib--Description of the Fair--Visit to the mansion of a

Moonshee--His Family--Crowds of Vehicles returning from the

Fair--Tanks--Festival of the _Duwallee_--Visit to a Parsee--Singular

ceremony--The Women of India impede the advance of improvement--They

oppose every departure from established rules--Effect of Education in

Bombay yet superficial--Cause of the backwardness of Native Education.

Every day's experience of the climate of Bombay assures me that, in

what is called the cold season, at least, it is the most treacherous

in the world; and that, moreover, its dangers are not sufficiently

guarded against by the inhabitants. Cold weather, such as takes place

during the period from November to March, in all parts of Bengal, is

not felt here, the days being more or less sultry, and tempered only

by cold, piercing winds.

The land-wind, which blows alternately with the sea-breezes, comes

fraught with all the influences most baneful to health; cramps,

rheumatic pains, even head-aches and indigestion, brought on by cold,

are the consequences to susceptible persons of exposure to this wind,

either during the day or the night: so severe and so manifold are

the pains and aches which attend it, that I feel strongly inclined to

believe that Bombay, and not "the vexed Bermoothes," was the island

of Prospero, and that the plagues showered upon Caliban still remain.

Though the progress of acclimation can scarcely fail to be attended by

danger to life or limb, the process, when completed, seems to be very

effectual, since little or no pains are taken by the old inhabitants

to guard against the evil.

Some of the withdrawing-rooms of Bombay are perfectly open at either

end, and though the effect is certainly beautiful--a charming living

landscape of wood and water, framed in by the pillars at the angles of

the chamber--yet it is enjoyed at too great a risk. Dining-rooms are

frequently nearly as much exposed, the aim of everybody apparently

being to admit as great a quantity of air as possible, no matter from

what point of the compass it blows. Strangers, therefore, however

guarded they may be in their own apartments, can never emerge from

them without incurring danger, and it is only by clothing themselves

more warmly than can be at all reconciled with comfort, that they can

escape from rheumatic or other painful attacks.

These land-winds are also very destructive to the goods and chattels

exposed to them; desks are warped and will not shut, leather gloves

and shoes become so dry that they shrink and divide, while all

unseasoned wood is speedily split across. It is said that the hot

weather is never so fierce in Bombay as in Bengal, the sea-breezes,

which sometimes blow very strongly, and are not so injurious as those

from the land, affording a daily relief.

It may be necessary, for the advantage of succeeding travellers,

to say that, in passing down the Red Sea, in the autumn and winter

months, no danger need be apprehended from the effects of the climate

upon coloured silks. It was not possible for me to burthen myself with

tin cases, and I was obliged to put my wearing apparel, ribbons, &c,

into portmanteaus, with no other precaution than a wrapper of brown

paper. Nothing, however, was injured, and satin dresses previously

worn came out as fresh as possible: a circumstance which never happens

in the voyage round the Cape.

And now, while upon the subject of dress, I will further say, that it

is advisable for ladies to bring out with them to Bombay every thing

they can possibly want, since the shops, excepting immediately after

the arrival of a ship, are very poorly provided, while the packs, for

few have attained to the dignity of tin boxes, brought about by the

hawkers, contain the most wretched assortment of goods imaginable. The

moment, therefore, that the cargo of a vessel hag been purchased

by the retail dealers, all that is really elegant or fashionable is

eagerly purchased, and the rejected articles, even should they be

equally excellent, when once consigned to the dingy precincts of

a Bombay shop, lose all their lustre. The most perfect bonnet that

Maradan ever produced, if once gibbeted in one of Muncherjee's

glass-cases, could never be worn by a lady of the slightest

pretensions. Goods to the amount of £300 were sold in one morning,

it is said, in the above-mentioned worthy's shop, and those who were

unable to pay it a visit on the day of the opening of the cases, must

either content themselves with the leavings, or wait the arrival of

another ship.

It is but justice to Miss Lyndsay, the English milliner, to say that

she always appears to be well provided; but as her establishment

is the only one of the kind in Bombay, there must necessarily be a

sameness in the patterns of the articles made up. The want of

variety is the evil most strongly felt in Anglo-Indian toilets; and,

therefore, in preparing investments, large numbers of the same pieces

of silk ribbons should be avoided, nobody liking to appear in a

general uniform, or livery.

The stoppage of the China trade has cut off one abundant source

of supply, of which the ladies of Bombay were wise enough to avail

themselves. It is difficult now to procure a morsel of China silk in

the shops, and there appears to be little chance of any goods of the

kind coming into the market, until the present differences between

Great Britain and the Celestial Empire shall be adjusted. With

the exception of the common and trifling articles brought about by

hawkers, every thing that is wanted for an Anglo-Indian establishment

must be sent for to the Fort, from which many of the houses are

situated, four, five, or six miles.

As there are populous villages at Bycullah, Mazagong, &c, it seems

strange that no European bazaars have been established at these

intermediate places for the convenience of the inhabitants, who, with

the exception of a few fowls, do not usually keep much in the way of

a farmyard. With an increase in the number of inhabitants, of course

shops would start up in the most eligible situations, and should

the anticipated change take place, and Bombay become the seat of the

Supreme Government, the demands of the new establishment would no

doubt be speedily supplied.

It is impossible, however idle the speculation may be, not to busy the

mind with fancies concerning the site of the city which it is supposed

would arise in the event of the Governor-general being instructed to

take up his abode at Bombay. The Esplanade has been mentioned as the

most probable place, although in building over this piece of ground

the island would, in a great measure, be deprived of its lungs, and

the enjoyment of that free circulation of air, which appears to be so

essential to the existence of Anglo-Indians, who seem to require the

whole expanse of heaven in order to breathe with freedom. The happy

medium between the want of air and its excess will not answer the

demand, and accordingly the Esplanade, no matter how strongly the

wind blows, is a favourite resort. Although its general features are

unattractive, it occasionally presents a very animated scene; the

review of the troops in the garrison is seen to great advantage, and

forms a spectacle always interesting and imposing.

This mustering of the troops is occasionally varied by military

exercises of a more novel nature. The sailors of the flag-ship are

brought on shore, for the purpose of perfecting themselves in the

manual and platoon exercise, and in the performance of such military

evolutions as would enable them to co-operate successfully with a land

force, or to act alone with greater efficiency upon any emergency.

Though not possessing much skill in military affairs, I was pleased

with the ease and precision with which they executed the different

movements, their steadiness in marching, and the promptness with which

the line was dressed. They brought field-pieces on shore with them,

which, according to my poor judgment, were admirably worked. These

parades were the more interesting, in consequence of the expected war

with China, a war in which the sailors of the _Wellesley_ will, no

doubt, be actively engaged.

I had also an opportunity of witnessing from the deck of that vessel,

when accompanying the Governor's party on board, the manoeuvring of

the ship's boats while landing a force. The mock fight was carried on

with great spirit, and the most beautiful effect; the flashing from

the guns in the bows of the boats and the musketry, amid the exquisite

blue smoke issuing from the smaller species of artillery, producing

fire-works which, in my opinion, could not be excelled by any of the

most elaborate construction. The features of the landscape, no doubt,

assisted to heighten the effect of the scene--a back-ground of lovely

purple islands--a sea, like glass, calmly, brightly, beautifully

blue--and the flotilla of boats, grouped as a painter would group

them, and carrying on a running fire, which added much to the

animation of their evolutions, the smoke occasionally enveloping the

whole in vapour, and then showing the eager forms of men, as it rolled

off in silvery clouds towards the distant hills.

As I gazed upon this armament, and upon the palm-woods that fringed

the shore, I could not help calling to mind the lawless doings of the

buccaneers of old, and the terror spread through towns and villages

by the appearance of a fleet of boats, manned by resolute crews, and

armed with the most deadly weapons of destruction. The sight realized

also the descriptions given in modern novels of the capture of towns,

and I could easily imagine the great excitement which would lead

daring men to the execution of deeds, almost incredible to those who

have never felt their spirits stirred and their arms nerved by danger,

close, imminent, and only to be mastered by the mightiest efforts.

When any _tamasha_, as the natives call it, is going on upon the

Esplanade, near the beach, they add very considerably to the effect of

the scene, by grouping themselves upon the bales of cotton, piled near

the wharf for exportation: those often appear to be a mass of human

beings, so thickly are they covered with eager gazers. Upon the

occasion of the departure of Sir Henry Fane to England, there appeared

to be a general turn-out of the whole of Bombay, and the effect was

impressive and striking. The road down to the Bunder, or place of

embarkation, was lined with soldiers, the bands of the different

regiments playing while the _cortège_ passed. All the ladies made

their appearance in open carriages, while the gentlemen mounted on

horseback, and joined the cavalcade. A large party of native gentlemen

assembled on foot at the Bunder, for the purpose of showing a last

mark of respect to a distinguished officer, about to leave the country

for ever.

Sir Henry, accompanied by his staff, but all in plain clothes, drove

down the road in a barouche, attended by an escort of cavalry, and

seemed to be much affected by the tokens of esteem which he received

on every hand. He left the shore amidst the waving of handkerchiefs,

and a salute of seventeen guns, and would have been greeted with

hearty cheers, did military discipline allow of such manifestation of

the feelings.

Sights and scenes like these will, of course, always attract numerous

spectators, while on the evenings in which the band plays, there is

a fair excuse for making the Esplanade the object of the drive; but

Bombay affords so many avenues possessing much greater beauty, that

I am always delighted when I can diversify the scene by a visit to

places not nearly so much in request, but which are to me infinitely

more interesting, as developing some charm of nature, or displaying

the habits and manners of the people of the country. With these

views and feelings, I was much pleased at receiving an invitation

to accompany some friends to a fair held in Mahim Wood--that sea of

palm-trees, which I had often looked down upon from Chintapootzlee

Hill with so much pleasure.

The fair was held, as is usual in oriental countries, in honour of

a saint, whose canonized bones rest beneath a tomb apparently of

no great antiquity, but which the people, who are not the best

chronologists in the world, fancy to be of very ancient date. The

name of the celebrated person thus enshrined was Mugdooree Sahib,

a devotee, who added the gift of prophecy to his other high

qualifications, and amongst other things has predicted that, when the

town shall join the wood, Bombay shall be no more. The accomplishment

of what in his days must have appeared very unlikely ever to take

place--namely, the junction of inhabited dwellings with the trees of

Mahim--seems to be in rapid course of fulfilment; the land has been

drained, many portions formerly impassable filled up, and rendered

solid ground, while the houses are extending so fast, that the Burruh

Bazaar will in no very long period, in all probability, extend to

Mahim. Those who attach some faith to the prophecy, yet are unwilling

to believe that evil and not good will befal the "rising presidency,"

are of opinion that some change of name will take place when it shall

be made the seat of the Supreme Government: thus the saint's credit

will be saved, and no misfortune happen to the good town of Bombay.

The superstitious of all persuasions, the Christians perhaps

excepted--though many of the Portuguese Christians have little more

than the name--unite in showing reverence to the shrine of the saint,

while Mugdooree Sahib is held quite as much in estimation by the

Hindus as by the followers of he own corrupted creed, the Mohammedans

of Bombay being by no means orthodox.

Many respectable natives have built houses for themselves at Mahim,

on purpose to have a place for their families during the time of the

fair, while others hire houses or lodgings, for which they will pay

as much as twenty rupees for the few days that it lasts. A delightful

drive brought us to the confines of the wood; the whole way along, we

passed one continuous string of bullock-carriages, filled with people

of all tribes and castes, while others, who could not afford this mode

of conveyance, were seen in groups, trudging on foot, leading their

elder children, and carrying their younger in their arms. The road

wound very prettily through the wood, which at every turn presented

some charming bits of forest scenery, shown to great advantage in the

crimson light of evening, which, as it faded, produced those wild,

shadowy illusions, which lend enchantment to every view. Parasitical

plants, climbing up the trunks of many of the trees, and flinging

themselves in rich garlands from bough to bough, relieved the monotony

of the tall, straight palm-trees, and produced delicious green

recesses, the dearest charm of woodland scenery.

I have frequently felt a strong desire to dwell under the shade of

forest boughs, for there is something in that sylvan kind of life so

redolent of the hunter's merry horn, the mating song of birds, and

the gurgling of secret rills, as to possess indescribable charms to a

lover of the picturesque. Now, however, experience in sober realities

having dispelled the illusions of romance, I should choose a cottage

in some cleared space by the wood-side, though at this dry season of

the year, and mid the perpetual sunshine of its skies, the heart of

Mahim Wood would form a very agreeable residence.

The first house we came to was very comfortable, and almost English

in its appearance; a small, neat mansion, with its little court-yard

before it, such as we should not be surprised to see in some

old-fashioned country village at home. Straggling huts on either side

brought us to the principal street of Mahim, and here we found the

houses lighted, and lamps suspended, in imitation of bunches of

grapes, before all that were ambitious of making a good appearance.

After passing the shops belonging to the village--the grain-sellers,

the pan-sellers, and other venders of articles in common demand--we

came to a series of booths, exactly resembling those used for the same

purpose in England, and well supplied with both native and foreign

products. The display was certainly much greater than any I had

expected to see. Some of the shops were filled with French, English,

and Dutch toys; others with China and glass ornaments; then came one

filled with coloured glass bangles, and every kind of native ornament

in talc and tinsel, all set off with a profusion of lights. Instead of

gingerbread, there were immense quantities of _metai_, or sweetmeats,

of different shapes and forms, and various hues; sugar rock-work,

pink, white, and yellow, with all sorts and descriptions of cakes.

The carriage moved slowly through the crowd, and at length, finding it

inconvenient to proceed farther in it, we alighted.

Our party had come to Mahim upon the invitation of a very respectable

moonshee, who had his country-house there, and who was anxious to do

the honours of the fair to the English strangers, my friends, like

myself, being rather new to Bombay. We met the old gentleman at an

opening in the village, leading to the tomb of the saint, and his

offer to conduct us to the sacred shrine formed a farther inducement

to leave the carriage, and venture through the crowd on foot.

The tomb, which was strongly illuminated, proved to be a white-washed

building, having a dome in the centre, and four minarets, one at each

angle, standing in a small enclosure, the walls of which were also

newly white-washed, and approached by a flight of steps, leading into

a portico. Upon either side of the avenue from the village were seated

multitudes of men and women, who, if not beggars by profession, made

no scruple to beg on this occasion.

I felt at first sorry that I had neglected to bring any money with

me, but when I saw the crowd of applicants, whom it would have been

impossible to satisfy, and recollected that my liberality would

doubtless have been attributed to faith in the virtues of the saint,

I no longer regretted the omission. The steps of the tomb were lined

with these beggars, all vociferating at once, while other religious

characters were singing with all the power of their lungs, and a

native band, stationed in the verandah of the tomb, were at the same

time making the most hideous discord by the help of all kinds of

diabolical instruments.

Having a magistrate of our party, we were well protected by the

police, who, without using any rudeness, kept the people off. So far

from being uncivil, the natives seemed pleased to see us at the fair,

and readily made way, until we came to the entrance of the chamber in

which, under a sarcophagus, the body of the saint was deposited. Here

we were told that we could proceed no farther, unless we consented to

take off our shoes, a ceremony with which we did not feel disposed

to comply, especially as we could see all that the chamber contained

through the open door, and had no intention to pay homage to the

saint. The sarcophagus, according to custom, was covered with a rich

pall, and the devout pressed forward to lay their offerings upon it.

These offerings consisted of money, cloths, grain, fruit, &c. nothing

coming amiss, the priests of the temple being quite ready to take the

gifts which the poorest could bestow. The beggars in the porch were

more clamorous than ever, the _maam sahibs_ being especially entreated

to bestow their charity.

Having satisfied my curiosity, I was glad to get away into the fair,

where I found many things more interesting. Convenient spaces in the

wood were filled with merry-go-rounds, swings, and other locomotive

machinery, of precisely the same description as those exhibited in

England, and which I had seen in Hyde Park at the fair held there, in

honour of Queen Victoria. Mahim Wood boasted no theatres or wild-beast

shows, neither were we treated with the sight of giants or dwarfs; but

there was no want of booths for the purpose of affording refreshment.

One of these _cafés_, the front of which was entirely open, was most

brilliantly illuminated, and filled with numerous tables, covered with

a multitude of good things. That it was expected to be the resort

of English guests was apparent, from an inscription painted in white

letters, rather askew, upon a black board, to the following effect:

"Tea, Coffee, and Pastry-House."

We were invited to enter this splendid establishment by the moonshee,

who had evidently ordered a refection to be prepared for the occasion.

Being unwilling to disappoint the old gentleman, we took the seats

offered to us, and ate the cakes, and drank the coffee, presented by

some respectable-looking Parsees, the owners of the shop, which they

had taken pains to set off in the European style. Although the natives

of India will not eat with us, as they know that we do not scruple

to partake of food prepared for their tables, they are mortified and

disappointed at any refusal to taste the good things set before us;

the more we eat, the greater being the compliment. I was consequently

obliged to convey away some of the cakes in my handkerchief, to avoid

the alternatives of making myself ill or of giving offence.

When we were sufficiently rested and refreshed, we followed the

moonshee to his mansion. The moon was at the full, and being at this

time well up, lighted us through the less thronged avenues of the

village, these tangled lanes, with the exception of a few candles,

having no other illumination. Here, seated in corners upon the ground,

were the more humble traders of the fair, venders of fruit, the larger

kind being divided into slices for the convenience of poor customers.

In one spot, a group of dissipated characters were assembled round

bottles and drinking-vessels (of which the contents bore neither the

colour nor the smell of sherbet), who were evidently determined to

make a night of it over the fermented juice of the palm. From what I

have seen, I am inclined to believe sobriety to be as rare a virtue

in Bombay as in London; toddy-shops appear to be greatly upon the

increase, and certainly in every direction there are already ample

means of gratifying a love of spirituous liquors. In other places, the

usual occupation of frying fish was going on, while a taste for sweet

things might be gratified by confectionary of an ordinary description

compared with that exhibited in the shops.

As we receded from the fair, the bright illumination in the distance,

the twinkling lights in the fore-ground, dimly revealing dusky figures

cowering round their fires, and the dark depths of the wood beyond,

with now and then a gleam of moonshine streaming on its tangled paths,

made up a landscape roll of scenic effects. Getting deeper and deeper

into the wood, we came at last to a small modest mansion, standing in

the corner of a garden, and shadowed by palm-trees, through which the

moon-beams chequered our path. We did not enter the house, contenting

ourselves with seats in the verandah, where the children of our host,

his wife or wives not making their appearance, were assembled. The

elder boys addressed us in very good English, and were, the moonshee

told us, well acquainted with the Guzerattee and Mahratta languages;

he had also bestowed an education upon his daughters, who were taught

to read in the vernacular.

The old man told us that he was born in Mahim Wood at the time of the

festival, and, though a Hindu, had had the name of Mugdooree, that

of the saint, bestowed upon him, for a good omen. Having a great

affection for his native place, he had, as soon as he could command

the means, built the house which we now saw, and in which he always

resided during the fair, which was called _oories_, or the Mugdooree

Sahib's _oories_, at Mahim. After sitting some time with the old man,

and admiring the effect of the moonlight among the palm-trees, we rose

to depart. In taking leave of the spot, I could not repress a wish to

see it under a different aspect, although it required very slight aid

from fancy to picture it as it would appear in the rains, with mildew

in the drip of those pendant palm branches, green stagnant pools in

every hollow, toads crawling over the garden paths, and snakes lurking

beneath every stone.

Returning to the place in which we had left the carriage, we found

the fair more crowded than ever, the numbers of children, if possible,

exceeding those to be seen at English places of resort of the same

nature. The upper rooms of the superior houses, many of which seemed

to be large and handsome, were well lighted and filled with company,

many of the most respectable amongst the Hindus, Mohammedans, and

Parsees, repairing to Mahim, to recreate themselves during the

festival. The shops had put on even a gayer appearance, and though

there was no rich merchandize to be seen, the character of the meeting

being merely that of a rustic fair, I was greatly surprised by

the elegance of some of the commodities, and the taste of their

arrangement.

It was evident that all the purchasers must be native, and

consequently I could not help feeling some astonishment at the large

quantities of expensive European toys with which whole booths were

filled. Dolls, which were to me a novelty in my late visit to Paris,

with real hair dressed in the newest fashion, were abundant; and so

were those excellent representations of animals from Germany, known by

the name of "Barking toys." The price of these things, demanded of our

party at least, was high. I had wished to possess myself of something

as a remembrance of this fair, but as the old moonshee was the only

individual amongst us who carried any money about him, I did not like

him to become my banker on this occasion, lest he should not permit me

to pay him again, and I should by this means add to the disbursements

already made upon our account.

Upon leaving the fair, we found some difficulty in steering our way

through the bullock-carriages which almost blocked up the road, and

as we drove along the grand thoroughfare towards Girgaum, a populous

portion of the native town, the visitants seemed to increase; cart

followed upon cart in quick succession, all the bullocks in Bombay,

numerous as they are, appearing to have been mustered for the

occasion.

In the different drives which I have taken through the island, I

have come upon several fine tanks, enclosed by solid masonry of

dark-coloured stone; but, with the exception, in some instances, of

one or two insignificant pillars or minarets, they are destitute of

those architectural ornaments which add so much splendour to the same

works in Bengal. The broad flights of steps, the richly decorated

temple, or the range of small pagodas, so frequently to be seen by

the side of the tanks and bowlies in other parts of India, are here

unknown; the more ancient native buildings which I have yet examined

being, comparatively speaking, of a mean and paltry description, while

all the handsome modern houses are built after the European manner.

There is one feature, however, with which I am greatly pleased--the

perpetual recurrence of seats and ledges made in the walls which

enclose gentlemen's gardens and grounds, or run along the roads, and

which seem to be intended as places of repose for the wayfarer, or as

a rest to his burthen.

It is always agreeable to see needful accommodation afforded to

the poor and to the stranger; public benefits, however trifling,

displaying liberality of mind in those who can give consideration to

the wants and feelings of multitudes from whom they can hope for

no return. These seats frequently occur close to the gate of some

spacious dwelling, and may be supposed to be intended for the servants

and dependants of the great man, or those who wait humbly on the

outside of his mansion; but they as frequently are found upon the high

roads, or by the side of wells and tanks.

The festival of the _Duwallee_ has taken place since my arrival

in Bombay, and though I have seen it celebrated before, and more

splendidly in one particular--namely, the illuminations--I never had

the same opportunity of witnessing other circumstances connected with

ceremonies performed at the opening of the new year of the Hindus.

When I speak of the superiority of the illuminations, I allude to

their taste and effect; there were plenty of lights in Bombay, but

they were differently disposed, and did not mark the outline of the

buildings in the beautiful manner which prevails upon the other side

of India, every person lighting up his own house according to his

fancy. Upon the eve of the new year, while driving through the bazaar,

we saw preparations for the approaching festival; many of the houses

were well garnished with lamps, the shops were swept and put into

order, and the horns of the bullocks were garlanded with flowers,

while fire-works, and squibs and crackers, were going off in all

directions.

On the following evening, I went with a party of friends, by

invitation, to the house of a native gentleman, a Parsee merchant of

old family and great respectability, and as we reached the steps of

his door, a party of men came up with sticks in their hands, answering

to our old English morice-dancers. These men were well clad in white

dresses, with flowers stuck in their turbans; they formed a circle

somewhat resembling the figure of _moulinet_, but without joining

hands, the inner party striking their sticks as they danced round

against those on the outer ring, and all joining in a rude but not

unmusical chorus. The gestures of these men, though wild, were neither

awkward nor uncouth, the sticks keeping excellent time with the song

and with the action of their feet. After performing sundry evolutions,

and becoming nearly out of breath, they desisted, and called upon the

spectators to reward their exertions. Having received a present, they

went into the court-yard of the next mansion, which belonged to one of

the richest native merchants in Bombay, and there renewed their dance.

We found in the drawing-room of our host's house a large company

assembled. The upper end was covered with a white cloth, and all

round, seated on the floor against the walls, were grave-looking

Parsees, many being of advanced years. They had their books and

ledgers open before them, the ceremony about to be commenced

consisting of the blessing or consecration of the account-books,

in order to secure prosperity for the ensuing year. The officiating

priests were brahmins, the custom and the festival--of which Lacshmee,

the goddess of wealth, is the patroness--being purely Hindu.

The Parsees of India, sole remnant of the ancient fire-worshippers,

have sadly degenerated from that pure faith held by their forefathers,

and for which they became fugitives and exiles. What persecution

failed to accomplish, kindness has effected, and their religion has

been corrupted by the taint of Hinduism, in consequence of their long

and friendly intercourse with the people, who permitted them to dwell

in their land, and to take their daughters in marriage. Incense was

burning on a tripod placed upon the floor, and the priests muttering

prayers, which sounded very like incantations, ever and anon threw

some new perfume upon the charcoal, which produced what our friend

Dousterswivel would call a "suffumigation." These preliminaries over,

they caused each person to write a few words in the open book before

him, and then threw upon the leaves a portion of grain. After this had

been distributed, they made the circle again, and threw gold leaf upon

the volumes; then came spices and betel-nut, cut in small pieces,

and lastly flowers, and a profusion of the red powder (_abeer_) so

lavishly employed in Hindu festivals. More incense was burned, and

the ceremony concluded, the merchants rising and congratulating

each other. Formerly, when our host was a more wealthy man than, in

consequence of sundry misfortunes, he is at present, he was in the

habit of disbursing Rs. 10,000 in gifts upon this day: everybody that

came to the house receiving something.

The custom of blessing the books, after the Hindu manner, will in all

probability shortly decline among the Parsees, the younger portion

being already of opinion that it is a vain and foolish ceremony,

borrowed from strangers; and, indeed, the elders of the party were

at some pains to convince me that they merely complied with it in

consequence of a stipulation entered into with the Hindus, when

they granted them an asylum, to observe certain forms and ceremonies

connected with their customs, assuring me that they did not place any

reliance upon the favour of the goddess, looking only for the blessing

of God to prosper their undertakings.

This declaration, however, was somewhat in contradiction to one

circumstance, which I omitted to mention, namely, that before the

assembled Parsees rose from the floor, they permitted the officiating

brahmins to mark their foreheads with the symbol of the goddess, thus

virtually admitting her supremacy. The lamps were then lighted, and

we were presented with the usual offering of bouquets of roses,

plentifully bedewed with _goolabee pánee_, or the distilled tears of

the flower, to speak poetically; and having admired the children of

the family, who were brought out in their best dresses and jewels,

took our leave. The ladies, the married daughters and daughters-in-law

of our host, did not make their appearance upon this occasion; for,

though not objecting to be seen in public, they are not fond of

presenting themselves in their own houses before strangers.

It is the women of India who are at this moment impeding the advance

of improvement; they have hitherto been so ill-educated, their minds

left so entirely uncultivated, that they have had nothing to amuse

or interest them excepting the ceremonies of their religion, and the

customs with which it is encumbered. These, notwithstanding that many

are inconvenient, and others entail much suffering, they are unwilling

to relinquish. Every departure from established rule, which their

male relatives deem expedient, they resolutely oppose, employing the

influence which women, however contemned as the weaker vessel, always

do possess, and always will exert, in perpetuating all the evils

resulting from ignorance. The sex will ever be found active either

in advancing or retarding great changes, and whether this activity be

employed for good or for evil, depends upon the manner in which their

intellectual faculties have been trained and cultivated.

It appears to me that, although education is making great progress in

Bombay, all it has yet accomplished of good appears upon the surface,

it not having yet wrought any radical change in the feelings and

opinions of the people, or, excepting in few instances, directing

their pursuits to new objects. I give this opinion, however, with

great diffidence--merely as an impression which a longer residence

in Bombay may remove; meanwhile, I lose no opportunity of acquainting

myself with the native community, and I hope to gather some

interesting information relative to the probable effects of the system

now adopting at the different national schools.

As far as I can judge, a little of Uncle Jonathan's fervour in

progressing is wanting here; neither the Anglo-Indian or native

residents seem to manifest the slightest inclination to "go ahead;"

and while they complain loudly of the apathy evinced at home to all

that concerns their advantage and prosperity, are quite content to

drowze over their old _dustoors_ (customs), and make no attempt to

direct the public attention in England to subjects of real importance.

Though unwilling to indulge in premature remarks, these are pressed

upon me by the general complaints which I hear upon all sides; but

though everybody seems to lament the evil, no one exerts himself to

effect a remedy, and while much is talked of individually, little is

done by common consent. One great bar to improvement consists, I am

told, of the voluminous nature of the reports upon all subjects, which

are heaped together until they become so hopelessly bulky, that nobody

can be prevailed upon to wade through them. In England, at all public

meetings, a great deal of time and breath are wasted in superfluous

harangues; but these can only effect the remote mischief threatened by

Mr. Babbage, and produce earthquakes and other convulsions in distant

lands, in distant centuries; whereas the foolscap is a present and a

weighty evil, and has probably swamped more systems of improvement,

and more promising institutions, than any other enemy, however active.

The intellectual community of India seems yet to have to learn the

advantage of placing all that relates to it in a clear, succinct, and

popular form, and of bringing works before the British public which

will entertain as well as instruct, and lead those who are employed

in legislating for our Eastern territories to inquire more deeply into

those subjects which so materially affect its political, moral, and

commercial prosperity.

FINIS.

Notes of an Overland Journey Through France and Egypt to Bombay · 第 12 / 12 章