* * * * *
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.