Bengal is blessed with a mild climate and a fertile soil. Provisions
are consequently cheap; and as neither substantial houses nor
expensive clothing is there essential to comfort, we might naturally
expect to see less of misery and destitution than in this country.
Such, however, is not the case. Our severe winter engenders habits
of industry and forethought, which are unknown in India. The ease
with which in most cases their few wants are supplied, renders the
inhabitants of that country in the highest degree improvident; and
nowhere do we see a greater number of beggars, and misery and
destitution paraded through the streets in more revolting forms.
There are no poor-laws in any part of India. Relief, however, is not
withheld, nor indeed sparingly bestowed. Many can afford to give a
little; and where nothing is exacted, many give willingly. Little
charity is bestowed by Europeans in the streets, as they generally
ride in palanquins or carriages, and as, besides, they feel the
weight even of a purse too much on a hot day. However, let it not be
supposed that they, like Dives, wallow in wealth, and close their
ears to the importunities of the heathen. The Baboo or Sircar gives
weekly or monthly pensions to some patronised beggars; and on a
Saturday in some large towns, the blind, lame, and halt come to the
gates of the grandees, and receive from the trusty _durwan_ or
doorkeeper a handful of cowries and coarse rice, of which one, two,
or three rupees' worth are mixed up, according to the circumstances
of the master. But it is not to ordinary beggars I now propose to
draw the attention of the reader--the infirm or the lazy, with whom
we are all tolerably familiar. But in India there is another class
of beggars--_religious_ and _professional_ beggars--who are proud of
their calling. I do not mean that there are no religious mendicants
to be found at home; but although the object to be attained in both
countries may be similar, the agents employed in the East are so
different, that a description of them will to many European readers
have all the gloss of novelty.
The two principal sects in Bengal are known as _Soneeassees_ and
_Byrâgees_. The former _exclusively_ worship Mahado. 'They are not
to inhabit houses or temples,' say their scriptures; 'but to live in
woods and forests, under the wide expanse of heaven, _there_ to
meditate upon the greatness of the Creator, and contemplate his
beautiful works.' An infant who is to become a Soneeassee has from
his birth the badge of Sheva upon him: no razor ever touches his
hair, and his locks are matted and dishevelled, when other
children's are neatly combed and anointed. When he approaches
manhood, he takes the vow of celibacy, he receives from the hand of
the Brahmin the _muntra_ or mystical creed, the dried skin of an
antelope, and a piece of coarse, unbleached cotton, stained yellow
with ochre, which he can use as a plaid, it being seven feet long;
upon the skin he is supposed to sit and sleep, and the cloth
overshadows the shoulders of the young enthusiast. Even after these
are worn out, as it is supposed that the devotee is pretty well
broken in to the hardships of his situation, they on no account may
be renewed. These Soneeassees seldom adhere to the letter of their
religion in the present day, although it is said that in times gone
by some of their class have sat absorbed and abstracted until their
spirit held communion with the great god--their bodies wasting away
from neglect, and their nails growing like claws. In the present
day, prayer and meditation are given to the winds, and they may be
seen fat and sleek, perambulating the streets of the towns and
villages, smeared over with ashes and ochre, and great coils of
matted hair, which some tastefully wind like a turban round their
head. They take care also to display, in glaring red and white
paint, upon their foreheads and arms, the various insignia or marks
of Sheva, such as the trident. Occasionally one also flourishes
about a _steel_ trident, which the figure of Mahado always wields in
his hand, and which is also placed on the summit of his temple. The
Soneeassees are the most impudent and importunate of beggars. There
came under my notice a band of three, who used regularly to visit
the town twice a week. These men had made a vow to collect a certain
number of rupees to build a temple, and for this purpose infested
the doors of the wealthiest of the Hindoo community, and followed
and persecuted them even in their drives with continued cries. It is
astonishing how soon superstition enabled them to fulfil their vow,
and how the extortioners were allowed to escape the punishment their
impudence deserved.
The Byrâgees are not so intrusive a sect. They frequently live in
the open air, though not prohibited from seeking other shelter.
Their heads are differently treated from those of the Soneeassees,
for both men and women have the crown shaved quite smooth. Both
sexes wear a piece of cloth checked like shepherd's plaid. They have
great strings of wooden beads, or _malâhs_, turned out of the stalks
of the holy toolsie, round their necks; and they generally collect
their rice and cowries in a dried gourd-shell. Persons of this sect
at their death are placed in an upright position in a deep grave,
and so consumed with fire. In former times, the widows used to burn
themselves with their lords. The Byrâgees, when they attain years of
discretion, may choose their wives from any caste they please. Some
of the Byragins, therefore, are said to be far cleverer than the
everyday Hindoo women, having been selected from a class which are
looked down upon by the others, but who are taught high
accomplishments, and are devoted to the temples of the gods. In his
begging excursions the Byrâgee carries a pair of cymbals or a small
gong; and singing the songs of Krishna, and his courtships among the
milkmaids, he delights the hearts of his Hindoo hearers, and makes
them lavish of their gifts.
The English reader perhaps has never heard of a beggar such as I
shall now depict. One may happen to be in a reflective mood, and
aroused from his meditations by what he supposes to be a cow lowing
close to his ear. He starts up and goes to the window, but instead
of that quadruped he finds a man standing with a rope round his
neck, and a woful countenance, holding out his palms, indicating
that he wants charity. This man has had the misfortune to lose his
cow; and as it died tethered, his religion imposes on him the
penalty of begging from door to door without speaking, but imitating
the cow, till he has realised enough to purchase one of these sacred
animals, and to give something besides in charity to the Brahmins.
This provision was perhaps made by the religion of the country in
favour of the cow, to preserve so useful an animal from
ill-treatment; and it is astonishing to see how implicitly the
Hindoo submits himself to a mere convention, which he might easily
evade.