CHAPTER VII.

Hindoo Treatment of the Sick.--Pundit's House Defiled.--Its

Purification.--Short Sketch of the Different Races and of the

Origin of Castes and Creeds among the Peoples of Hindostan.

The Hindoo treatment of the sick is quite peculiar, and I once had an

opportunity to witness some of its curious features during the illness

of my Sanskrit teacher, the pundit Govind. I was fortunate in this,

since only exceptional circumstances permit a European to pollute with

his presence the dwelling of a high-caste Brahman. Every one knows that

caste still holds the Hindoos under an iron rule, but it is difficult

for us of the Western World to realize, without actual experience, the

tenacity with which its mandates are obeyed even in an extremity.

For several days Govind had not presented himself to give his usual

morning lesson at the "Aviary." I feared he was ill, but did not venture

to visit him, lest my very shadow might pollute his dwelling and place

him in an unpleasant dilemma with the rest of his high-caste friends. I

began to be alarmed, however, on the third morning of Govind's absence,

and was on the point of starting off to his house, when I observed a

native woman coming toward the "Aviary," her scarlet saree fluttering in

the breeze and making quite a pretty picture in the distance.

I hastened to the doorstep to meet the stranger. She salââmed to me, but

positively declined to enter the house. As she did so she flung back her

scarf or covering, and from the sectarian mark on her forehead I knew

that she was a high-caste Brahmanee. She stood for a few minutes

breathless and silent, and I do not remember ever having seen a more

delicate and sensitive-looking girl. The saree, which was a scarlet

muslin cloth of Indian manufacture, and decorated with a handsome

border, covered her person from head to foot, leaving the left arm and

shoulder bare. I noticed that she had sandals on her feet and a number

of bangles round her arms and ankles. Her shining black hair was tied in

a massive knot behind and fastened by a gold pin, which also served to

secure the end of her saree as a veil and covering for her head. Her

features, form, arms, hands, and feet were of the most exquisite type,

and her complexion of a rich chocolate-brown.

She at length lifted her dark eyes brimming with tears, and with a

slightly quivering voice said, "Beebee saihib torâ douva daoh kuda ka

wasta; Govind ka jahn jata hai" ("Lady, for God's sake give me a little

medicine; Govind's life is passing away").

I inquired the nature of his complaint, but all I could learn from the

young woman was that Govind's stomach and legs had gone away, and that

his head was fast following his heels, which is the Oriental phraseology

for extreme prostration.

I seized a small bottle of brandy, a physician's mixture at hand for

cholera morbus, and some quinine, and started with the Brahmanee for the

home of Govind the pundit. In less than half an hour we stood before a

mean, wretched-looking bamboo dwelling, the walls of which were

plastered with mud and covered over with an attap[27] roof. It stood in

the middle of a small patch of ground neatly smeared over with

cowordure. In the centre of this yard was a flourishing plant growing

out of a large earthen pot buried in the ground--the Indian

"mehndee"[28] (sacred to the goddess Bhawanee), called _Lawsonia_ by

English botanists. It was in full blossom, with small delicate, fragrant

flowers resembling the clematis.

The sky was very much overcast, portending soon a shower or

thunderstorm; the air was hot and sultry. I stood for a moment or two

before the half-open door of the little hut, whence proceeded a low,

faint, tremulous sound which I recognized as the voice of Govind, my

teacher, enfeebled by his illness. As I stood there hesitating to enter,

the pretty little Brahmanee dropped on her knees before the door, and,

having saluted the presiding genius of the dwelling three times,

advanced, creeping softly in on her knees. At length I summoned courage

enough to walk in, but I did so in my stockings, leaving my shoes on the

doorsill. Even this was, as I afterward learned, desecration to the

Brahman's household.

On a low charpie, or native cot, standing apart within an enclosure

formed by a mud wall a few inches in height, lay the pundit, his eyes

closed, his features shrunk and wasted. The little woman, who I divined

was his wife, had already taken her place at his feet, which she kept

rubbing in a listless way, the sad expression deepening on her dark but

beautiful face, the great tears brimming her eyes and coursing one after

another all unheeded down her cheeks.

The dwelling consisted of two apartments. Through a doorway to which

there was no door I saw an old woman seated by a rude fire on the floor

in the adjoining room cooking some rice in an earthen pot, and before

her on the floor were a board and a rolling-pin, with which she had been

rolling out some wheaten cakes, piled, already baked, in a copper

platter by the fire. The moment I entered the hut she turned her

shrivelled features, and, seeing a white woman, she gave a shrill cry;

then, stretching out her bare, bony arms, implored me in piteous tones

to begone. "But, lady," said I, trying to appease her, "I cannot go

away. Govind is very ill, and I have some medicine here that may cure

him."

Hearing her still entreating me to begone, Bhawanee begged her to let me

stay and give the medicine to Govind; at which the poor old woman,

shuddering, retreated to the inner apartment, resumed for a time her

cries, uttering them in a loud voice and in a tone at once piercing and

imperious, "You dare not come in here! you dare not! What reason have

you for daring to give my son medicine? I want you hateful Injrage

(English) to know that I would rather have him die, rather have him die,

than be polluted by your vile drinks, made of devils' blood and pig's

flesh; I would rather have him die." Rocking herself to and fro, she

kept her strange glittering, dark eyes fixed upon me, and repeated,

lowering her voice more and more gradually, "I would rather have him

die," till she seemed to be talking to herself. I really thought she was

delirious or perhaps out of her mind; but Bhawanee whispered to me, "She

is very old and very cross, and sometimes possessed of a devil."

All the noise made by the old woman did not seem to disturb her son, who

was in a deep sleep, his respiration so heavy and labored, and his

pallor so death-like, that I almost feared he was dying. But at the end

of half an hour he stirred and made a vain attempt to turn on his side;

failing, he gave a look toward the foot of the bed, where his

sorrow-stricken wife sat still and mute. Meeting his gaze, she crept to

the head of the bed, and, taking his hand tenderly in hers, sobbed out

in broken accents, "Govind duva piuh, tora duva piuh" ("Govind, drink

some medicine--just a little of the medicine").

The pundit opened wide his half-closed eyes, looked full and inquiringly

into his wife's face, and then turned them upon me. If I had been the

very lowest wretch on the face of the earth, he could not have been more

startled and horrified than he seemed at my presence. He almost sprang

up, but in another second fell back on the bed, and, putting his hands

before his face, cried feebly to his wife, "Wife, wife, what have you

done?"

There was deep sympathy in the voice of the poor young woman as she

exclaimed, "Oh, Govind, I thought you were dying. I did not know what

else to do, and Doorah has been gone since morning, and is not yet

returned. Oh, please take the lady's medicine. Never mind about caste;

we can do 'puja' for it, and be restored;" and the poor woman began to

sob as if her heart would break.

"What are my sufferings and death, that you should create so much

disturbance about them?" feebly moaned Govind. "Let me die, oh, let me

die quietly!" and again the deadly pallor overspread his face.

"Govind," said I in a very energetic tone, "drink this." I had already

poured out a little brandy into an earthen lota or cup, which his wife

handed me, and giving it back to her said, "Put it to his lips; he will

be better as soon as he has swallowed a little of it."

Poor Bhawanee, nervous and trembling from head to foot, tried, and tried

in vain, to persuade her husband to take even a mouthful of the

medicine. Each time that she presented the lota to his lips he would put

it aside, and turn away his face, muttering, "Better to die than pollute

myself with what I am forbidden to touch."

The old woman, who had never taken her eyes off me, hearing his voice,

began to moan, "Oh, beloved son, die, die, but do not touch their unholy

drinks."

I did not know what to do, but, inspired by poor Bhawanee's entreating

look, which, though she said not a word, plainly urged me to persevere,

I once more endeavored to get the patient to swallow a little of the

brandy. "Govind," said I, "do get over your scruples, which are well

enough in health, but absurd in your fast-failing condition. Drink a

mouthful of this; it will help to revive you until your doctor comes. No

one need ever know that you have tasted brandy; I promise you to keep it

a profound secret."

"Do, oh do!" urged his wife--"eke gutta piuh--take only one gulp."

"Much or little, a drop or a whole bottle, are all the same to me,"

groaned the poor pundit. "You may not speak of it, lady, and no one, no

one may know it, but how can I conceal the fact from myself?"

I felt it was useless to persuade the patient to try the remedies I had

brought with me.

At this moment we not only heard the sound of approaching feet, but a

sudden clap of thunder, preceded by a flash of lightning, almost blinded

us as we sat in the hut, and down came a deluging rain. Bhawanee rose,

and in a state of great agitation begged me to retire by the back door;

but, casting her eyes on my stocking feet, and apprehending that my

European shoes on the threshold of her dwelling had already betrayed my

presence to her friends, she begged me to keep my place, when in

walked, all dripping, three strange-looking men, accompanied by Doorah,

her sister, who had been despatched in the early morning in search of a

doctor, a priest, and a soothsayer.

Bhawanee rose and bowed before them, and so did the old woman from her

place in the inner room. It was comforting to see the poor woman's

expression, which till now had been full of despair, replaced by a look

of child-like confidence and trust, though I doubted whether the Hindoo

priest, doctor, or soothsayer could do much toward helping the sick man.

The doctor, who was a tall, dark, and rather handsome high-caste Hindoo,

placed himself near the bedside of Govind and proceeded to feel his

skin, pulse, and chest and to examine the condition of his tongue, eyes,

and nails.

Meanwhile, the Brahman priest requested a pitcher of water and an empty

bowl. Furnished with these by Doorah, Bhawanee's sister, he sat himself

down in the middle of the room and began to transfer the water from the

jar into the empty bowl, drop by drop, repeating over each drop the

"Gayatree," the holiest text of the Vèdas, the most sacred and effacious

prayer of the Brahmans, and thought by them to be absolutely necessary

to salvation, while the soothsayer sat apart waiting his turn to perform

certain magical enchantments for the benefit of the poor sick man. The

latter opened his eyes once more and looked at his Guru,[29] or priest,

and said solemnly, "I am dying."

"Dying? you are not dying," said the doctor. "I will soon make you

well," whereupon he opened a bag and drew out of it some pieces of iron,

which he placed on a charcoal fire. While these were being heated he

took out various roots and dried herbs and began to rub them on a small

stone, occasionally moistening the stone with a little water. Having

compounded several queer, dark-looking doses, he, to my utter

astonishment, deliberately began pinching, thumping, and slapping poor

Govind--now on his back, anon on the soles of his feet. His sides,

palms, shoulders, elbows, knee-joints were all slapped and beaten. This

done, he branded with the hot pieces of iron the poor patient on the pit

of his stomach, the inside of his arms, and the calves of his legs; then

administered his queer-looking doses, which the unhappy-looking Govind

swallowed without a sign of remonstrance; and, finally covering him from

head to foot with a thick quilt, the Hindoo physician beckoned to the

soothsayer to complete the cure.

The soothsayer robed himself in a dress covered with strange designs of

men exorcising fiends, put on a cap to which was attached two or three

long cords, at the end of which hung little brooms made of kusah-grass

(a grass sacred to the Hindoo gods). He then took up the pan of burning

coals and scattered them over the quilt which covered the patient; these

he brushed off as rapidly as possible with the sacred brooms hanging

from his cap. This was to dispossess the sick man of some extraordinary

but invisible devil, which he then drove out at the door, running after

the spirit and howling terrific invectives on it for having dared to

enter the "divine precincts occupied by the _liver_ of a Brahman." All

this while the Guru, or priest, prayed, chanting in a monotonous tone,

over each drop of water that passed from the pitcher to the bowl, and

each of which was supposed to carry off with it the cholera of the sick

man.

Strange to say, violent and absurd as were the remedies administered to

poor Govind, he not only bore them patiently, but seemed better; a

profuse perspiration having broken out upon him, it was looked upon as a

most hopeful sign and an especial interposition of Brahm.

In another hour the rain ceased; Govind had fallen into a peaceful

sleep; Bhawanee's face was irradiated with smiles; the old woman was

setting out their mid-day repast on a mat in the adjoining apartment. I

returned home, promising to call and see Bhawanee on the following day.

The next day, when I started off, I fully expected to hear that Govind

had passed away; but when I reached the outer gate of the yard enclosing

Govind's dwelling I found the pundit, although looking weak and feeble

enough, seated on a small stone holding in his left hand three blades of

kusah-grass. The old woman, who was in the act of tying up the lock of

sacred hair on his head in some mystical form, shouted to me to keep

off. I stood at a distance and looked on. He was evidently undergoing

the purification ceremony. Bhawanee, who smiled sweetly at me, was

holding before her husband a bowl of water, which he first sipped, then

flung a little of it toward the horizon, and washed his hands, ears,

breast, eyes, nose, shoulders, and feet, repeating over each member a

prayer. His wife then brought him a stick of lighted wood from the

household fire; he breathed over it, repeating the mystic word "Aum," "O

divine Spirit, resplendent Fire, purify me from all uncleanliness." He

then placed the sacred grass on his right ear (Gunga, the sacred river,

is supposed to have its source in the right ear of Brahm, the

sacrificial fire (or life) in Brahm's nostrils, so that when the pundit

touched these members of his person with fire and water all the

impurity entailed by my visit to his house on the previous day passed

away). Finally he took some sacred mud out of a pot which was handed to

him by his wife, and made the holy mark, the circle and the cross of his

caste and race, on his brow.

Meanwhile, Doorah, the sister, had been purifying the hut. First it was

sprinkled all over with holy water, smeared with cow-ordure, and lastly

fumigated with certain gums--a very sensible proceeding in a hot, moist

climate like that of Bombay.

And at length the poor pundit, restored to his normal condition of

holiness, was once more assisted into his bed by his tender and loving

wife. I smiled at them from a distance, and went my way regretting more

keenly than ever we were _so_ separated from one another that the

simplest act of kind interest on my part should entail on the whole

household a series of purificatory rites to last for seven days.

As long as there exist in social life certain laws, manners, and customs

by which the civilized man is distinguished from the savage, the

gentleman from the cowherd, the high-born dame from her lowly maid, so

long will caste, which is nothing more or less than social grades,

complicate the lives and destinies not only of the races of the East,

but of the West. The three great problems which yet remain to be solved

by the British in India are to do away with the degradation of man by

caste, the bondage of woman by custom, and the deterioration of

childhood through the influence of the one and the other.

Caste on Indian soil was not in its beginning an entirely arbitrary

institution; it was at first the natural expression of a high-bred and

highly-sensitive race toward an inferior and savage population among

which they had settled. It took centuries before caste was established

on Indian soil, and nearly a thousand years before it became

incorporated in the sacred books of the Brahmans in its present form.

But the moment that divine authority was claimed for it, that moment it

became to the God-fearing races of the East a law so subtle, so

intricate, and yet so absolute, that the most daring as well as the most

abject could not hope to escape its iron rule.

From the remotest times there has been a ceaseless march of tribes and

races into the vast peninsula called Hindostan, from which there is no

easy outlet, east or west, north or south; all points are equally

difficult and impassable--mountain-barriers on the north, with ranges of

mountains and circling seas on every other side. Nevertheless, pouring

across the Indus and straggling down the narrow defiles and passes of

the Himalayas, came wave after wave of immigration, pushing the earlier

populations farther and farther into the hills and forest-boundaries of

the occupied land. Each wave, borne down by the later arrival,

disappeared or retreated deeper and deeper into the heart of the country

till the whole of India was over-flooded by the great Aryan invasion.

In no part of the world are there found so many remains of distinct

tribes and races of men as in Hindostan proper. Everywhere in the

forests, in the most inaccessible mountain-regions of the peninsula, and

all along the sea-coast, are tribes and races who seem to have been

hemmed in where we now find them. The vast plains of the regions of the

Indus and the Ganges afforded no place of refuge to the retreating

barbarians. Hence, with the exception of some few who were absorbed into

the population of Lower Bengal, the Aryans drove all before them, even

the Tamuls, a partly-civilized people, who, having swept the earlier

inhabitants southward, were in their turn forced south.

From the latitude of the Vindhyan chain down to Cape Comorin, and in

the forests of Ceylon, the aboriginal populations of India are still to

be met with, living in detached communities, distinct in physical

appearance, manners, customs, and religions, not only from the Hindoos,

Tamuls, Moslems, and Parsees, but from one another.

Nothing annoyed our pundit so much as when he heard me call my bhistee,

or water-man, "a Hindoo:" "Hindoo nay, maim sahib, whoo jungly-wallah

hai" ("Not Hindoo-man, but a savage of the forest"). And, to tell the

truth, one could not fail to notice between the Hindoo pundit and the

coolie-bhistee as marked a difference as one sees between a high-bred

American gentleman of the Anglo-Saxon race and the newly-emancipated

American negro.

In crossing the Indus one comes upon the relics of ancient races in the

dark-complexioned, diminutive, but powerfully athletic natives of

Guzerat, many of whom are now the coolies or porters of Bombay. Again,

scattered over the Vindhyan and Satpurah mountains and the banks of the

Nerbudda and Tapti are other tribes of a very peculiar race called

Bheels or Bhils, probably from the Sanskrit word "bhil," which signifies

"separate" or "outcasts." The legends of these tribes, one and all,

trace their origin to the union of the god Mahadèo with a beautiful

woman met by him in a forest. From this union sprang a sort of giant

distinguished by his ugliness and vice, who, after having perpetrated a

series of horrible crimes, killed the sacred Brahmanic bull of the god,

and was banished to the wilderness of Jodhpoor. The history of the

Rajpoot princes of Jodhpoor and Odhpoor corroborates this account of the

Bhil emigration. The Bhats,[30] or minstrels, of the Bhils still reside

in Rajpootana, and make yearly visits to the countries of the various

Bhil tribes to celebrate festal seasons with music and song. The

celebrated Nádir Singh, a Bhilahah (that is, one sprung from the

marriage of a Rajpoot with a Bhil woman), was one of the most formidable

freebooters of his time until the establishment of an English settlement

at Mhau,[31] when he was compelled to discharge his foreign adherents

and renounce plundering.[32]

The Bhils are short in stature, thick-set, almost black, with wiry hair

and beard, but extraordinarily active and capable of enduring great

fatigue, delighting in flesh of all kinds and intoxicating drinks, with

which no Brahman will ever pollute his sacred lips. The chiefs of the

Bhils are called Bhomiyahs, and are generally of the Bhilalah or mixed

race. They exercise the most absolute power over their subjects; each

chief is styled a "dhani," or lord, and the most atrocious crimes are

often committed at his bidding. In order to limit this absolute power,

however, there are certain religious officers called "tarwis," or heads

of tribes, whose counsel must be attended to by the chiefs. The worship

of the Bhils is paid to Mahadèo, the high god, and Dèvi his consort, the

goddess of small-pox. A great number of infernal deities are also

propitiated by yearly offerings and pilgrimages to their respective

shrines.

While the Bhil men are brutal, cruel, and drunken, it is a remarkable

fact that the Bhil women are chaste, gentle, and almost always very

good-looking.[33]

Driven southward by the conquering Rajpoots, numbers of the Bhils

adopted the savage life of freebooters and robbers, which they still

retain, and the more wealthy settled in Guzerat and Candeish, where most

richly-ornamented temples and rock-shrines are to be found to-day, and

such as remained with the Rajpoots became hardy cultivators of the soil

or the bravest of watchmen when employed as guards.

In character they are sensitive on points of honor among themselves, but

desperate foes, revenging themselves, sometimes years after, for any

grievance perpetrated against one of their tribe. I remember an incident

related to me by my mother which is characteristic of the Bhil

freebooters and robbers. My stepfather was appointed to survey the

public road newly opened from Cambay to the confines of the great and

then almost unknown province of Guzerat. She had decided to accompany

him on his long and hazardous journey. Having acquired a fair knowledge

of the Guzerati language, she proved, as he had hoped, an invaluable aid

in settling disputes about payments of money for work done, and in

directing and instructing such of the Bhils, Khands, and other tribes as

were employed on the roads. Furnished with a sepoy guard and a large

amount of government money to defray the expenses of the road repairs,

they travelled for some time unmolested through the strange country. On

one occasion, however, they had pitched their tents in the village of

Balmere, and had retired for the night. My stepfather, fatigued with a

hard day's ride over the roads, slept soundly. The guards patrolled the

little encampment, which consisted of three tents, two for the servants

and sepoys on duty, and the other, a double-poled tent, consisting of

two rooms with a double wall of canvas around it, for the family. The

tumbril which conveyed the government money from place to place stood in

the corner of the room, near the cot on which my mother slept. My

stepfather occupied the adjoining room. A small lamp stood burning on

the tumbril, and the key had been carelessly left in the treasure-box.

About midnight my mother was suddenly aroused by a slight shuffling

noise. She raised her head, and, looking toward the spot whence the

sound proceeded, was horrified at seeing the shadows of the nude figures

of several men passing between the outer and inner walls of the tent.

Presently a gang of Bhil robbers opened the tent-door and stood before

her, confronting her, armed with bows and poisoned arrows. There were

six men in all, with nothing on their persons but _langoutis_[34] of

straw round their loins, and their bodies highly greased, so as to slip

away from the grasp of any person who attempted to seize and hold them.

Divining that their object was to rob the tumbril, the brave lady,

without uttering a single cry, sprang to her feet, standing erect and

seemingly fearless, and gazed defiantly at them. For a moment or two the

foremost robbers seemed to hesitate. Then the one of the gang nearest

her addressed her in Guzerati, and said, "Woman, we do not desire to

hurt you; we only mean to possess ourselves of what we need, the money

in that cart there;" saying which, he attempted to advance toward the

tumbril. To scream for help would imperil her own and her husband's

life, for these freebooters would at once use their poisoned arrows; but

to permit them quietly to rob the government treasury would be almost as

fatal, entailing on them endless delay, trouble, and perhaps even unjust

suspicion at head-quarters. The intrepid wife suddenly remembered that

the Bhils had a superstitious reverence for the person of woman, and

before they had time to reach the tumbril she flung herself on her face

and hands across their path, and said solemnly in Guzerati, "Only by

stepping over a woman's body can you obtain possession of what is

entrusted to the care of her husband." There she lay, not daring to

utter another word, trembling from head to foot, and anticipating

momentary death from their cruel arrows.

Minute after minute passed away, but she still did not dare to open her

eyes or even turn her head toward them. After lying there for nearly

half an hour, which seemed almost an eternity of agonizing suspense, and

unable to endure it any longer, she ventured timidly to glance in the

direction of the robbers, and, lo! their places were empty; the

tent-door was closed. The Bhil freebooters, hearing this strange being

address them in their own language, hurling at them one of their most

formidable threats, had vanished as softly as they had entered the tent,

vanquished by the presence of mind shown by a delicate woman.

On another occasion the military chaplain at Desa, a British station in

Guzerat, was on his way to seek change of air at Mount Aboo. At dusk one

evening he found himself surrounded by a gang of Bhil robbers; his

travelling-wagon was stopped, his driver took to his heels and fled; his

servants too had gone on ahead. Not knowing what to do, he addressed

them in Guzerati, and said, "I am not a rich man; I am a poor servant of

God, a Christian priest in search of health." Immediately the chief of

the gang gave orders that he should not be hurt. They stripped him,

however, and divided among themselves whatever they could find. Two of

the gang, presenting their short daggers to the poor clergyman, made him

march before them in his shirt for some distance. Every time that he

turned to remonstrate with the robbers they pricked him slightly with

their pointed daggers, till at length he resolved to take no further

notice of them. On and on he went. A great darkness had overtaken him;

almost fainting from fatigue, he sank to the ground unable to take

another step, when, to his surprise, he found that the robbers had

departed, leaving him to pursue his way through a wild jungle. He spent

an anxious night in the forest, retraced his steps to the village, and

by complaining to the headman was at once furnished with a guard and

every facility to pursue his journey, the law here being that if robbery

or murder is perpetrated in the vicinity of a village, the headman is

obliged to make ample restitution; and he has the power to levy a fine

on the community to indemnify himself for all the expenses that such

acts entail on him as patèl, or governor, of the village. The reverend

clergyman always maintained that his escape from death on this occasion

was owing to the fact of his being able to address the robbers in their

own tongue.

South of the Nerbudda, and in the very heart of the Vindhyan chain, are

the Gonds,[35] so called from their habitual nudity--a race of the

lowest type, jet-black skin, stunted, thick-lipped, and with small,

deep-set eyes. This race is often called by the Hindoos Angorees--_i.

e._ cannibals. They live in miserable huts, surrounded by swine,

poultry, buffaloes, and dogs, without any industries, literature, or

priesthood, and with few ceremonials of any kind whatever--worshippers

of serpents, demons, or anything, in fact, that inspires them with

dread, to whom they sometimes sacrifice their children or captives taken

in war. Such religious rites as prevail among them are conducted by the

aged and honored members of their tribe, both male and female.

Verging on the Gondwana[36] are the hilly provinces of Orissa, inhabited

by the Khands, no doubt a tribe slightly in advance in physical type and

civilization of their neighbors, the Gonds, the Thugs, and Sourahs. They

regard the earth-spirit as in rebellion against the Supreme Deity. To

the earth-spirit they direct their prayers, and seek to propitiate her

by human sacrifices. Their victims are called "Meriah"[37] by the

Oriyahs, and Kudatee by the Khands. These victims must not belong to

their tribes nor to the Brahman caste. They are purchased, or more

generally kidnapped, from the surrounding districts by persons called

Panwhas, who are attached to their villages for these and other peculiar

offices. They may be either male or female, and as consecrated persons

are treated with great kindness. To the "Meriah" youth or maiden a

portion of land is assigned, with farming stock. He or she is also

permitted to marry and bear children, who in turn become victims. If a

"Meriah" youth form an attachment to the daughter or even wife of a

Khand, the relatives indulge him in his wishes, regarding it as an

especial favor. These sacrifices take place annually, when the sun is in

his highest point in the heavens. The victim is selected by casting of

lots. The ceremony lasts three days, and is always attended by a large

concourse of people of both sexes. The first day of the approaching

sacrifice is spent in feasting, merriment, and prayers, which go hand in

hand with wild revelry of all kinds. On the second morning the victim

who is to propitiate the earth-goddess is washed, attired in a flowing

white robe, and conducted, with music, beating of drums, blowing of

horns and rude reed instruments, to the sacred groves preserved for

these rites. Here the assembled community implore the earth-goddess Tari

(called Pennu by the Shanars and Davee by the Rajpoots, who have in

great measure been tainted by their contact with these hill-tribes) to

accept the sacrifice about to be offered, and to bless their land with

increase of corn, wine, cattle, and so forth. After the offering up of

prayer the victim, whether male or female, stands up before the

assembly, draws forth his glittering knife, and passes his hand three

times over its sharp edge. He then deliberately steps up to the rude

altar of Tari, lays down his knife upon it, and, bowing his head,

worships the insatiable earth-goddess; then snatching up the knife, he

cries, "Drink of my blood and be appeased, O Tari," etc., etc. He waves

it aloft three times and plunges it into his side. Leaning toward the

earth, which he desires to propitiate in behalf of his fellow-men, he

slowly draws out the knife, pours his life-blood out upon her parched

and thirsty soil, and expires at the foot of the dreaded altar raised to

her name. Honored as no other creature in the land, reared for death,

the "Meriah," or doomed one, exults in the performance of this

self-sacrifice with a consciousness of being a savior of the country,

and has never been known to evade or escape the doom in store for him.

After this horrible sacrifice the human victim is cut into small pieces,

and each head of a Khand or Gond family obtains a shred or infinitesimal

portion of the body, which he buries in his field to please the spirit

of the earth. This is believed to aid not a little in rendering the soil

rich and fertile.

The Thugs, or "stranglers," are not unlike the Gonds in physical

appearance and natural characteristics. They live by robbery and murder,

and are banded together by certain vows which they religiously follow.

One sect of Thugs are called Phansigars, or "throttlers." It is their

practice to strangle wayfarers, whence their name, and appropriate such

spoils as may fall to their lot in these onslaughts. Efforts have been

made, through the British government, to put a stop to both these

religious atrocities of the Meriah and the Thugs, and in some parts of

the country with great success.

The Jadejas are a branch of the great Samma tribe once so powerful in

Sindh; they assumed this title from a celebrated chief named Jada. Their

arrival in Guzerat dates from 800 A. D. The remarkable characteristic of

this tribe is their systematic murder of all their female children.

Another branch of the Jadejas settled in Kach, or Cutch. These differ

materially from their brethren in Guzerat. They are half Musulmans and

half Hindoos, believe in the Kuran, worship Mohammedan saints, swear by

Allah, eat, drink, and smoke with the followers of the Prophet. But, on

the other hand, they do not undergo circumcision, and adore all kinds of

images of wood and stone. In appearance they are fine, tall men,

light-complexioned, handsome-featured, and have singularly long

whiskers, which are often allowed to come down to the breast. They owe

their good looks to their mothers, who are either bought or kidnapped

from other tribes; no females of their own are ever reared.

The Kalhis (another curious tribe) are evidently a northern race; they

are tall, well-formed, with regular features, aquiline nose, blue or

gray eyes, and soft dark-brown hair. The sun is their chief deity. On

the Mandevan Hills, near Thau, is a temple to the sun, said to have been

erected by the Kalhis on their first arrival in Guzerat. In this temple

there is a huge image of the Sun-god with a halo round its head. The

symbol of the sun with the words, "Sri suryagni shakh" ("the witness of

the holy sun") is affixed to all official documents and deeds of

property.

A number of tribes may be found in the district of Bilaspoor, which

forms the upper half of the basin of the river Maha-Nadi--the Gonds,

already mentioned, the Kanwars, Bhumias, Bingwars, and Dhanwars--all

differing among themselves in physical characteristics, customs,

manners, and certain religious observances. Among the Hindoos here are

two tribes which deserve particular mention--the Chamars, or

Chamar-wallahs, and the Pankhas. The former take their name from their

dealing in "chamar," or "leather." They are the shoemaker and

leather-trading castes of the Hindoo communities, and have always been

held in great contempt by the high-class Brahmans and Hindoos. About

sixty years ago a religious movement was inaugurated by one of the

Chamars named Ghasi-Dhas. He represented himself as a messenger from God

sent to teach men the unity of God and the equality of men. He was the

means of liberating his tribe from the trammels of caste; he prohibited

the worship of idols or images, and enjoined that prayers should be

offered up to the Supreme Being, whose spirit should be ever present to

their minds without any visible sign or representation. The followers of

the new faith call themselves "Satmanes" or the "worshippers of Satyan,

the truth." Ghasi-Dhas was their first high priest; he died 1850. His

son succeeded him, but was assassinated by some Hindoo fanatic, but his

grandson is the present high priest of the Chamars.

The "Pankhas," or weavers, are also deists of a very high order; they

are the followers of a religious reformer named Kahbir, who flourished

about the fifteenth century. There is very little difference between the

Kahbir-Pankhas and the Satmanes-Chamars in their worship and religion.

The province of Sindh derives its name from the Sanskrit word "Sindhu,"

"ocean or flood," which name the Aryans of the Vèdic period who were

settled about the sixth century B. C. in the Panjaub and along the Indus

gave to that river. In the third "Ashtaka" and the sixth "Adhyáya" there

appears to be a distinct mention of the Indus River in the twelfth

verse, which runs as follows: "Thou hast spread abroad upon the earth by

thy power the swollen Sindhu when arrested (on its course)."[38] The

Indus is still called Sindhu throughout its course from Kalabágh to

Atâk; it is sometimes locally termed Atâk. From Kalabágh to Bâhkhar is

the upper Indus, and from Bâhkhar to the sea the lower Indus. It begins

to rise in March and falls in September, but, unlike the Ganges and the

Mississippi, it does not submerge its delta or inundate the valley

through which it passes to any great extent. Its floods are irregular

and partial, pouring sometimes for years on the right bank, and then on

the left, so that even at the height of the freshets the Persian wheel

may be seen at work watering the fields on either bank.

The principal tribes of Sindh are the Beluchis and the Jâts, or Sindhis,

once Hindoos, but converted to Islam under the Khalifs[39] of the house

Ommayyah. The Sindhis are taller, stronger, more robust, and muscular

than the natives of India; they belong chiefly to the Hanifah sect of

Mohammedans. Their language is a strange mixture of Arabic and Sanskrit

words, the noun being borrowed from the Sanskrit, and the verb from the

Persian or Arabic grammar. The Beluchis are a mountain-tribe; they are

superior to the Jâts or Sindhs, fairer, more powerfully formed, very

hardy, not deficient in courage under brave leaders, and extremely

temperate. The Beluchi women are remarkably faithful and devoted as

wives, and those of the Mari tribe often follow their husbands to

battle.

One of the peculiarities of the Hindoos of Sindh is that they have no

outcast tribes among them, like the Parwaris, or Pariahs, Pasis, and

Khandalas of Hindostan; and many of the Musulmans of Sindh are

followers of Nanak[40] and Govind his disciple.

Farther north, in the Afghan districts, numerous warlike tribes are

found. Afghans, properly so called, distinguish themselves from the

aboriginal populations. The chief clans or tribes of the Afghans are the

Duranis, south-west of the Afghan plateau; the Ghilzais, the strongest

and most warlike of the Afghans, occupying the highlands north of

Kandhar (this tribe is noted for its deep-rooted hostility to

foreigners, and especially to the British); the Yusufzais, north of

Peshwar; and the Khakars, who are chiefly the highlanders of this

region. Of the non-Afghan tribes very little is known; those that have

come under the notice of the British officers are no doubt mostly a

mixed race, descendants of the Aryans and Turanians. The purest of these

are the Parsivans, the Kizibashes, the Hindikis, and the Jâts, all more

or less closely allied to the Persians and Hindoos in language, manners,

and customs. The Eimâk, the Hazaras, Tajiks, and the Khohistans are

semi-nomadic tribes--Mohammedans; some are of the Shiah[41] and others

of the Sunni sect.

As a race, the Afghans are a very handsome, athletic people, with fair

complexion, aquiline nose, and flowing black, brown, and sometimes even

red, hair, which the men wear long, falling in soft curls over the

shoulders. The women are beautiful, and often of fair rosy complexion,

dark eyes and hair, which they wear under a skull-cap, with two long

braids falling to the waist behind, finished off with silk tassels.

Since the Mohammedan conquest the custom of excluding women from the

society of the male members of the family has been introduced into

Afghanistan, and is now rigidly enforced.

In the very apex of India, the hilly districts of Southern Madras, are

numerous early races and tribes, distinct and peculiar to themselves, of

whom the Tudas and Cholas are most worthy of notice. The former is as

superior in type to the latter as the Caucasian is to the Mongolian. The

Tudas are chiefly found in the Nilgherry Hills; they are tall, athletic,

and well-formed. Their women, though dark, are singularly pleasing when

young. The comparatively treeless character of these hills indicates

that in former times large spaces were cleared and cultivated, though at

present the Tudas seem to prefer roaming about the hills and leading a

nomadic life.

In the Dhendigal and neighboring Wynadd Hills appear other tribes,

apparently the oldest of all the primitive races of India, and of the

lowest type of humanity. They are called Shanars, and are clothed, if at

all, with the bark of trees, using bows and arrows, and subsisting

chiefly on roots, wild honey, and reptiles. Short in stature and agile

as monkeys, living without habitations among trees, they penetrate the

jungle with marvellous speed, and seem only a step removed from the

orang-outang of Borneo and Sumatra. There is no doubt that these wild

people, if not indigenous to the soil, occupied at one time a large

portion of this country, and are the remains of that "monkey race" whom

the first Aryan invaders met with, and who, with their leader Hanuman,

figure so largely in the old poems as the allies of Rama in his conquest

of Ceylon.

Among these numerous but isolated relics of aboriginal populations there

is another and superior race, divided into several distinct

nationalities, such as the Tamuls, Telingus, and Canarese, who people

the greater part of Southern India. Nevertheless, between them and those

still later Aryans the difference, both mental and physical, is plainly

seen.

There are still current in Southern India a number of languages and

dialects, which, though largely intermixed with Sanskrit terms in

consequence of Aryan conquest and civilization, belong to distinct

families of languages. The most comprehensive of these are the Tamul,

Telingu, and Carnatic, showing the existence of separate nations at the

time of the Aryan conquest. The Tamul language has no inconsiderable

literature of its own.

The Mahrattas, whose chief seat is in the Deccan, belong to still

another race, although there is now among them a larger infusion of

Aryan blood than is to be found farther south in India.

In the van of Aryan immigration settling along the plains of the Ganges

from Hurdwar down to the eastern frontier of Oude and the Raj-Mahal

Hills were the Brahmans, founders of the great cities Hastinapoora

("abode of elephants"), Indraspatha, Delhi, Canouge on the Doab, Ayodhya

(Oude), Benares, and Palibothra (Patna). They concentrated themselves in

the upper part of the Ganges valley, but did not attempt to pass into

Lower Bengal, as may be seen to-day by the physical and mental

inferiority of the Bengalees to the populations of Northern Hindostan.

All travellers and historians agree in stating that the early Aryan

settlers in the valley of the Ganges closely resembled the Hellenic race

in Greece in almost every feature of their military, domestic, and

social life. They were split up into a number of small states or

communities. The Kshatryas, though originating in their military

profession, and not in a single family, were not unlike the Heraclidæ,

who became the royal race of the Peloponnesus. But in process of time

these Kshatryas were absorbed into the Rajpoots, who are supposed to

have arrived in India about the time of Alexander's invasion of the

Panjaub. They settled where we find them to-day, in the neighborhood of

Rohilcund and Bundelcund, and shortly after them came the Jâts, another

branch of the Indo-European or Aryan family, thus completing the four

great waves of the so-named Pandya, or white-faced, immigration--the

Brahmans, Kshatryas, the Rajpoots, and the Jâts. It was the Brahmans who

founded the celebrated Pandhya kingdom, so called from their white

skins, and established the "Meerassee" system--_i. e._ an aristocracy of

equality among the four conquering races. They shared the land equally

among themselves, and regarded all others as servants or subjects.

In this primitive village-system the Brahman, or priest and poet, the

Pundit, or schoolmaster, the Vakeel, or pleader, were as essential as

food and drink to the community. Priest, teacher, and pleader by virtue

of their high functions enjoyed peculiar and unquestioned privileges:

land free of all tax was religiously assigned to them, and servants to

cultivate it for their use were attached to the grant.

In each and every Hindoo village or town which has retained its old form

the children even to-day are able to read, write, and cipher. But

wherever the village-system has been swept away by foreign and other

influences there the village school has also disappeared with it. A

trial by jury, called "punchayet," was also a part of the primitive

system of self-government instituted by the early Brahmans: each party

named two or more arbitrators, and the judge one; the jury could not in

any case be composed of less than five persons, whence the name

"punchayet"--five just ones. In difficult cases the influence of the

heads and elders of the village was brought to bear upon the contending

parties, and the administration of justice was so pure in those days

that the saying "In the punchayet is God" became proverbial.

Out of these marked mental and physical differences grew up the

monstrous and extraordinary system of caste in India. Not that caste

does not exist in some degree everywhere throughout the world. In the

British Isles it is as fixed and absolute as a Medo-Persic law, and even

among Americans a marked social inequality exists. Caste naturally

sprang up with the first mingling of the conquering and conquered races

on Indian soil. At first the distinctions of class and rank were no more

marked than that of an English peasant and the lord of a domain, or that

of the negro girl and her mistress in the United States to-day. But the

proud, white-skinned Brahmans, in order to guard the purity of their own

"blue blood," and to rivet their own ascendency, invented at length a

distinct and most binding code of laws, and then claimed for them the

divine authority of the Vèdas.

Of the four great castes that we read so much about, three only were

fixed--Brahmans, Kshatryas, and the Vaisyas. This last was the common

Aryan people, and they were not separated from their superiors by any

harsh distinctions. But the Sudras, "the threefold black men," among

whom the Aryan population established themselves, all the non-Aryan

races and tribes of the peninsula of Hindostan, were kept off by a wide

gulf and the most galling marks of inferiority. The Sudra could not read

the Vèdas nor join in their religious meetings. He could not cook their

food, or even serve in their houses; he was unclean, gross, sensual,

irreligious, and therefore an abomination to the noble white-faced

Aryan.

The code of Manu, with all its "unparalleled arrogance" toward the

Sudra, was founded rather upon what a high-bred Brahman ought to be than

with any deliberate intent to degrade the Sudra. But with its practice

came that inevitable deterioration to the moral character of the

Brahmans themselves, who forgot that the humblest man has a right to the

same sanctity of life and character as the highest. The lower the

Brahman sank in his spiritual and moral nature, the more he tried to

hedge himself about with artificial claims to the reverence of the

peoples around him, until finally the code of Manu swelled into minute

details. Reaching the unborn child of Aryan parents, it directed its

nursing in the cradle, it shaped the training of the youth, and

regulated the actions of his perfect manhood as son, husband, and

father. Food, raiment, exercise, religious and social duties, must be

brought into subjection to its sovereign voice, and in the course of

time it was inseparably interwoven with every domestic usage, every

personal and social habit. From the cradle to the grave it undertakes to

regulate and control every desire, every inclination, every movement, of

the inner and outer man. Such is the code of Manu.

In spite of these laws, however, there flourished Sudra kings and Sudra

communities, influenced though not absorbed by the Aryan population.

Sudra kings were invited to the court of the great _Yudishthira_[42] and

treated with marked respect and courtesy; indeed, this word "Kiriya" or

"Kritya" (courtesy) was held to be the distinguishing mark of a

high-bred Brahman. The Sudras in their turn soon caught the infection of

caste feeling, and were not slow in adopting the same distinctions among

themselves.

From being at first a sign of superiority of race, it gradually took

form and extended to every branch and profession. Priest, teacher,

soldier, sailor, tinker, tailor, robber, murderer, and beggar, was each

one fixed immovably and for ever in his place and grade, and no earthly

power could draw him into any other. Every one piqued himself on his

particular caste; each man confined himself sternly to his own perfect

circle. There was hope for every man who belonged to a caste, so that

even those fallen from caste bound themselves together in a brotherhood

and called themselves Pariahs, "outcasts," which in time became a large

and distinct caste. "Even in the lowest depths they found a lower

still."

So monstrous and deteriorating was this system that in the course of

time, losing sight of its original purpose, it separated the Aryans

themselves, for whose especial preservation and union it was designed,

by distinctions and restrictions almost as galling as those it had

formerly imposed only on the Sudras.

Nevertheless, it had its noble features, and did good work for a time.

The high advancement to which the Indo-European art, literature,

painting, music, and architecture attained was due to the leadership of

the Brahman civilization. It was an aristocracy to rule and educate the

masses, which everywhere exhibited a uniform inferiority. But even with

all the help of caste and the inflexible code of Manu to preserve them

on every side, the proud white-faced Aryans did not long escape the

deteriorating influences both of the climate in which they had settled

and the debasing usages of the non-Aryan populations around them.

The most degrading practice that sprang up in time on Indian soil was

asceticism. The amount and the terrible nature of this self-imposed

penance practised by the Hindoos exceed anything known in the world, and

are almost inconceivable to any ordinary European, whose first instinct

is self-preservation. Ablutions and commands of personal cleanliness,

which formed a part of the code of Manu, have increased in number, and

also the penalties attached to their violation to such a degree that

now-a-days a Brahman or Hindoo is defiled by the most trifling accident

of place or touch. To eat with the left hand, to sneeze when he is

praying, to gape in the presence of the sacrificial fire, to touch one

of a low caste, are all pollutions. In fact, the very shadow of an

Englishman or a Sudra falling on his cooking-pot renders it obligatory

on him to bury his meal in the earth and to throw away his pot if

earthen; if not, it must undergo seven purifications before it is in a

sufficiently holy condition to boil the rice sacred to the Brahman. The

simple contact with pig's fat in the cartridges made the sepoys, who

believed they were thus lost to caste and to heaven, willing and

terrible tools in the hands of the arch-enemy of British power in the

East. Nana Sahib, or, more properly speaking, Dundoo Punt, who, in order

to revenge a private wrong--the lapse to the East Indian Company, on the

death of his uncle and royal father by adoption, of a large territory

bequeathed to him--worked upon the caste-prejudices of the sepoys until

he maddened them into committing the most fiendish acts ever recorded in

Indian history. But the original code does not so regard the eating of

pork. If a Brahman purposely eat pork he shall be degraded, but if he

has partaken of it involuntarily or through another's connivance, a

penance and purification are sufficient for full atonement.

Thus, injunctions originally designed as rules of pure living and

high-breeding, cleanliness, abstinence, kindliness, charity, and

courtesy, have been so multiplied and distorted that it is now difficult

even for the most precise and devout Brahman to carry them all

faithfully into practice. And if Christian teachers and reformers were

seriously minded to overthrow this vast system of caste in India, they

could successfully do so by quoting the Vèdas and the code of Manu,

which prescribe no such arbitrary rules of life as now exist in India.

It is our want of knowledge, and that of most of the modern Brahmans,

which still holds them in their old fetters, rendering the efforts to

free them of little avail, for we know not how nor where to begin the

attack on such a strong fortress as caste and custom are to these blind

followers of law and order.

Centuries after the consolidation of the Brahman power and system of

caste there arose a strong-souled Aryan, a prince By birth, a republican

at heart, and a reformer by nature, called Sakya Suddarthà, who no

sooner became of age than he suddenly began to deny the inspiration of

the Vèdas, the divine right of Brahmans to the priesthood, and the

obligations of caste. He offered equality of birthright and of spiritual

office alike to all men and women. Sudra, Pariah, Khandala, bond or

free, were of one and the same great family. He went about declaring all

men brothers. This was the strong point of Buddhism. The new religion

spread at once. It ravished the hearts and kindled the imaginations of

many Aryans, but chiefly the non-Aryan nations. Everywhere it was

received with enthusiasm. Brahmanism and caste received their first

great shock, from which they have never wholly recovered.

[Illustration: BUDDHIST PRIEST PREACHING AT THE DOOR OF A TEMPLE.]

Monastic orders first arose among the Buddhists, and as caste was

abolished the monasteries were open to all men, and even to women, who

were bound over to celibacy and self-renunciation. These Buddhist

priests went about preaching their new religion to the common people,

and found ready acceptance with them. Barefooted, with shaven heads,

eyebrows, and chins, wearing a yellow dress instead of the pure white

robes of the Brahmans, they seemed indeed lower than the lowest Pariahs.

They built lowly chapels, and had regular services in them, chanting a

prescribed liturgy, offering harmless sacrifices of incense, lighted

tapers, rice, wine, oil, and flowers, and taking the lily instead of the

Brahmanic lotos as the emblem of the purity of their faith.

Buddhism spread with amazing rapidity, and flourished for some time on

Indian soil. During the reign of the celebrated Indian king Asoka, three

centuries more or less before Christ, it was the dominant religion of

India, about which time it was also introduced by Buddhist missionaries

into Ceylon, China, and the Japanese Archipelago. At length, the

Brahmans, recovering from the lethargy that seemed to have overtaken

them, joined all their forces, and, rising _en masse_ everywhere against

these dissenters from the Vèdas and from the old code of Manu, drove out

of Hindostan proper those whom they could not put to death. The

Buddhists finally found refuge in Guzerat and ready acceptance among the

early primitive races; and here the new religion reached its highest

prosperity, but began to decline in the eighth or ninth century after

Christ. At this juncture a new sect arose under the leadership of one

Jaina, or saint, a man of great purity of character, who undertook to

correct the many errors which had crept into Buddhism. Veneration and

worship of deified men, confined by the Buddhists some to five and

others to seven saints, were extended by the Jains to twenty-four, of

whom colossal statues in black or white marble were set up in their

temples. Tenderness and respect for animal life they carried to an

extreme point, which has led to the establishment of the hospitals for

infirm aged animals in different parts of India. In its essence Jainism

agrees with Buddhism. It rejects the inspiration of the Vèdas, has no

animal sacrifices, pays no respect to fire. But in order to escape the

unremitting persecution of the Brahman priesthood it admits _caste_, and

even the worship of the chief Hindoo gods. Thus Jainism secured that

toleration on Indian soil which was never extended to Buddhism, the very

birthplace of Buddha having been rendered a wilderness and untenanted by

man through the rage and fury of Brahmanic persecution.

Brahmanism, finding itself once more in the ascendency, proceeded with

great tact to incorporate into its ritual all the divinities, the rites,

and the ceremonies peculiar to the non-Aryan populations. In Southern

India Vishnoo is worshipped under the name and character of Jaggernath

(or Juggernaut), "Lord of the universe;" but in Northern Hindostan this

worship is mingled with that of Rama and Krishna, two Aryan heroes, whom

the Brahmans with great political adroitness represent as later

incarnations of both Vishnoo and Jaggernath. The pre-Aryan Mahrattas and

Marwhars were brought to believe their supreme deities, Cando-ba, and

Virabudra, as incarnations of Siva, and so on, until at length every

god, hero, or saint belonging to the pre-historic inhabitants of Asia

found a place in the Brahmanic calendar of incarnations of gods and

goddesses.

Monotheism and polytheism exist side by side; purity and vice are only

different expressions of a system as complex as life itself. Through

all manners, acts, and usages, the most trivial or the most momentous,

the Brahman religion flows in perpetual symbolism and stamps everything

with its seal and mark. The pure Hindoos live in a network of

observances, the smallest infraction of which involves the most terrible

social degradation and loss of caste. They are bound by observances for

rising, for sitting, for eating, drinking, sleeping, bathing; for birth,

marriage, and death; for the sites of their homes and even the positions

of their doors and windows.

The dwellings of Hindoos vary according to their means. The poorer have

only one apartment, which must be smeared over once a week with a

solution of the ordure of the cow. The better classes always have a

courtyard and a verandah, where strangers, and even Europeans, may be

received without risk of contamination. Very often the walls of the

dwellings are covered with frescoes and paintings. The entrance to the

dwelling is always placed, out of respect to the sun, facing the east,

but a little to one side. Every morning at an early hour the Hindoo wife

or mother of the home may be seen cleansing her house and her utensils

for cooking, eating, and drinking. This done, she will wash or smear

with cow-ordure the space about her dwelling. After this purification

the wife will proceed to ornament the front of the door, which in itself

is held sacred to the Brahman, with the form of a lotos-flower. This she

makes out of a solution of lime or chalk, and imprints it on the door

and on the space in front of it. This flower is emblematic of the name

of God, too pure to be uttered, but supposed to bestow a magical charm

on the dwelling on which it is inscribed.[43]

No one is so scrupulous with regard to personal neatness, purity, and

cleanliness as the true Hindoo woman. The Hindoo sacraments are ten in

number, with five daily duties that are as obligatory on the Brahman as

are the sacraments in the Roman Catholic Church. The first sacrament

begins with the unborn babe; it is the conceptional sacrament. Attended

by the mother of a large family, the young wife repairs to a temple with

a peculiar cake made of rice, sugar, and ghee (clarified butter), and

with a fresh cocoanut. The goddess invoked on such occasions is

Lakshina, the consort of Indra. They first offer up a prayer before her

shrine, meditate on her glorious progeny of gods and heroes, then

implore her kindly interposition in behalf of the young woman who is to

become a mother; after which the elder matron breaks the cocoanut and

pours the liquid out as an offering to the goddess, and part of the cake

and cocoanut is brought home and distributed among the members of the

family.

The next ceremony is a very profound one, and has an especial reference

to the quickening of life in the babe. The mother, shrouded in pure

white from head to foot, accompanied by an elder female and mother of a

large family, with her husband and father repair to the temple. One or

more Brahman priests are invited to preside on this occasion. Oil,

flowers, and lighted tapers are offered to Mahadèo the Great God. The

priest pours the oil presented on a lighted lamp, then performs a

wave-offering over the head of the expectant mother, praying, "O thou

who art light, thou art also life and seed. Accept our sacrifice and

make the new life thou hast created in secret visible in beauty and

strength and power of intellect." After which offerings according to the

wealth of the parties are made to the priests. There is one more

important ceremony, similar in character to the others. All these

sacraments are performed only in the case of the first child.

The birth ceremony takes place on the birth of every child. On this

occasion a Brahman priest and an astrologer are invited. The mother of a

large family and the grandmother are generally present. Before dividing

the umbilical cord fire is waved over the child, a drop of honey and

butter out of a golden spoon is put on his lips, after which the cord is

severed. This is a very sacred ceremony, called "Jahu Karan"

("introduction to life"), and is performed with prayer, indicating that

as the child's life is now severed from the parent life, so is all life

at some time or other parted from the Central Life, but yet dependent on

that as the infant is on the tender care of a mother. The father then

draws near and looks upon the face of his son or daughter for the first

time, at which he must take a piece of gold in his hand, offer a

sacrifice to Brahma, and anoint the forehead of the child with ghee

which has first been presented to Brahma. A string of nine threads of

cotton, with five blades of durba-grass, must be bound by the father

round the wrist of the child, indicating that the life matured by nine

months is to be made perfect by the five daily sacraments or duties.

This done, the astrologer casts the horoscope of the child, which is

carefully written down, whether good or evil, and is confided to the

father. This paper is generally burned with the person at death.

When the infant is a month old, and the new moon is first seen, he is

presented to it as his progenitor with a solemn prayer. After which the

naming takes place. The child's nearest relatives are invited. A Brahman

priest waves over it a lamp, then sprinkles holy water, and calls aloud

its name as he anoints the ears, eyes, nose, and breast of the child

with clarified butter. This done, a little dress prepared for the child

is put on for the first time.

When the teeth begin to appear a grand religious service takes place,

and its first food of milk and rice is given to it after it has been

consecrated by the priest. At three years of age the prescribed

religious ceremony connected with the shaving off of the boy's hair

takes place, and the consecration of the single lock left on the top of

the head. Next comes the investiture of the sacred thread, performed

only in the case of the male child.

Between the ages of fourteen and sixteen the youth formally presents

himself before the temple to be admitted to the order to which he

belongs. He is placed on a stone near a sacred tank in the precincts of

a Hindoo temple; he is then washed in pure water by the priests robed in

spotless white garments; the holy "Gayatri" is repeated in his right ear

by one priest, while the other breathes over him the mystic trisyllable

of "Aum, Aum, Aum," after which he is invested with a new sacred thread.

Marriage is also a sacrament. The male may be married at any time after

the "mung," or investiture of the sacred thread; the time for this

ceremony varies among the different castes. The female, however, must

not be under ten years of age, and as she is obliged to be several years

younger than the male, he is generally from sixteen to eighteen at the

time of marriage.

Particular rules are laid down to be observed in the choice of a wife.

She must not have any physical or moral defects; she must have an

agreeable voice, sweet-sounding name, graceful proportions, elegant

movements, fine teeth, hair, and eyes. Deformity inherited or

constitutional delicacy, or disease of any kind, weak eyes, imperfect

digestion, an inauspicious name, or lack of respectable lineage, always

operate as strong impediments to marriage. Once the choice is made by

the parents, then the particular months and junctions of the planets are

consulted by the joshis or Hindoo astrologers: the birth-papers of both

parties are first examined, followed by a profound study of the stars,

which sometimes takes a year to be completed, after which a writing

called the Lagan-patrika is prepared, in which the day, the hour, the

names of the parties, and the position of the planets are put down, and

one of the eight different kinds of marriages mentioned in the Shastras

prescribed as the most fitting in view of the astral relations of

husband and wife. These eight different kinds of marriages, however, are

more or less similar, and vary only when the different castes intermarry

one with the other. This intermarriage is always attended with loss of

caste. The ceremony observed by the Brahmanic caste is the most

interesting, and is called "_Brahma_," from the sacredness attached to

the rite. The bridegroom is obliged to prepare himself by certain

prayers and ablutions before he can be presented to his future wife,

whom he often sees for the first time, but of whose charms, graces of

person, and character he is fully informed beforehand. Robed in pure

white, anointed with holy oil, and wearing garlands of fresh flowers

around his neck, he goes in procession, accompanied by his friends and

relatives, to the bride's house, where he and his friends are welcomed

as guests by the bride's father. The future wife is allowed to appear,

and is generally veiled, so that even then the young couple do not see

very much of each other.

On the afternoon of the day appointed for the wedding company to

assemble at the house of the bride's father a raised platform is placed

at one end of the hall; here the bridegroom takes his place, surrounded

by the priests. Presently the bride enters the room accompanied by her

father, who does homage to his future son and places his daughter at his

right hand. After this a young priest enters bearing a large censer

containing a charcoal fire, which is placed at their feet, and is

emblematic of their warm affection. Two priests stand before them

holding each a lighted torch in his hands, reciting some very beautiful

prayers; meanwhile the bride rises and treads three times on a stone and

_muller_[44] placed beside her, and which is meant to indicate that the

cares and duties she is now about to assume as a married woman will be

carefully observed. The bridegroom then makes an oblation of oil and

frankincense to the fire, as typical of his gratitude to the gods for

the blessing which is now about to crown his life; this done, the priest

hands him a torch, which he takes and waves three times around the

person of his bride, signifying that his love will always surround and

brighten her existence; he then drops it into the pan or censer at their

feet. The bride now scatters a handful of rice and a little oil as an

oblation to the gods. The chant having ceased, the father steps up, and,

taking a new upper and a lower garment, clothes the person of his

daughter; he then fastens the end of her dress to the skirts of her

lover's robe, and, taking the bride's hand, he places it in that of the

bridegroom, binding them together with a mystic cord which is made of

their sacred grass, typifying the delicacy of the marriage-tie, the

strength and solidity of which depends not so much on the fragile cord

which binds them, as on the individual will and resolution not to break

it asunder. Then, conducted by the bridegroom, the young bride steps

seven times around the sacred fire, repeating the marriage vows, the

priests chant the nuptial hymn, and the marriage is consummated.

Every act of the Brahmanic ritual is symbolic. Thus in the evening of

the same day, after sunset, the bridegroom sees his blushing little

bride alone for the first time; he takes her by the hand, seats her on a

bull's hide, which in its turn is symbolic of several spiritual and

physical facts, one of which points to his power to support and protect

her. Seated side by side, they quietly watch the rising of the polar

star; pointing it out to her, he repeats, "Let us be steady, stable,

serene, for ever abiding in each other's love, as that immovable and

deathless star." Having sat in silent contemplation, they partake of

their first meal together. The bridegroom remains three days at the

house of the bride's father; on the fourth day he conducts his wife to

his own, or, as it sometimes happens, to his father's house, in solemn

procession. The Hindoo women are remarkably devoted as wives and

mothers: instances of conjugal infidelity among the high caste are

unknown, and extremely rare even among the lower castes of the Hindoo

women.

The ceremonies attending the dead are worthy of brief notice here. The

last moments of a Brahman are generally made very impressive by the

prayers and recitations that take place around his dying pillow, the

chief aim of which is to concentrate the thoughts of the departing soul

on the fact that life is the _master_ of death. "The sun rises out of

life and sets into life; so does the soul of a pure Brahman. Life sways

to-day, and it will sway tomorrow, O Brahman! Life is immortal; death

but conceals the fact as the garment covers the body. Hasten, O soul, to

the Unseen, for unseen he sees, unheard he hears, unknown he knows. As

by footprints one finds cattle, so may thy soul, O Sadhwan (pure one),

find the indestructible Soul," etc., etc.

The moment life is fled the high priest bends over the corpse with his

hands folded on his breast and repeats a prayer. After which the near

female relatives indulge in the most dismal howls and shrieks as

expressions of their grief and lamentation. The body is then bathed by

the priests, perfumed, decked with flowers, and placed on a temporary

bier or litter. This is borne along through the chief thoroughfares,

preceded by men who carpet with certain pieces of cloth the entire way;

women follow, howling and weeping and casting dust on their heads. The

funeral pyre, formed of dried wood, is three or four feet high and over

six feet long; the corpse is laid on it, and over it is poured oil,

clarified butter, and flowers made of fragrant woods. The priests stand

around, sprinkle the body with holy water, and repeat a number of

prayers which very clearly point to the mystery which enfolds all

animate and inanimate life, within and without, and express earnest

hopes that the body now about to be consumed may not draw down the soul

to enter another body again. The nearest relative then applies the fire

and the body is consumed. They who watch the fire repeat to themselves

long passages from the Shastras and the Puranas on the vanity of human

life and the deathless nature of the soul, after which they purify

themselves before returning home. Eleven days after death the Shrada, or

purificatory ceremonies, are performed by the heir, and in his absence

the next nearest relative; then every month for a year, and lastly on

the anniversary of his death.

Brahmans are held unclean for ten days after the death of a relative,

the military caste for twelve, the mercantile for fifteen, and the Sudra

for thirty. Among the Hindoos the body is burnt, except only in case of

infants under two years, when it is buried. The "Shrada" is a ceremony

very much like mass performed in the Roman Catholic Church for the souls

of the dead who are in purgatory. Prayers are offered by the high priest

and the nearest relatives, accompanied with gifts and offerings of rice,

flowers, oil, and water, in order to free the deceased soul from a

purificatory abode in which it is held, and to enable it to ascend to

the heaven where its progenitors are thought to be united to the

universal Soul.

The worship of the Brahmans and the high-caste Hindoos, though

complicated by trivialities, is in its essence very simple and pure. The

Brahmans do not themselves worship the idols in the temples, although

they encourage the inferior castes and races to do so. Every act of a

Brahman's life is stamped with a religious character, even as every

breath that he draws is held to be a part of that "Divine Soul" that

exists in the heart of all beings.

As the Brahman priests accommodated their religious beliefs to suit the

popular mind, so have the Roman Catholic missionaries and priests

effected a compromise between Hindooism and Christianity in India, and

Eastern Christianity has assumed features as foreign to the sublime

teachings of Christ as demon- and serpent-worship are foreign to the

pure and natural religion of the Vèdas.

It is only by examining the existences of all the different races and

layers of populations, and the mingling of so many and such conflicting

religions, that we can rightly understand the India of to-day with her

hydra-headed creeds, dogmas, and castes.

FOOTNOTES:

[27] A species of palm-leaf dried and stitched together, much used all

over Hindostan in roofing houses and sheds.

[28] Most of the high-caste Hindoo women cultivate this plant for the

purpose of dyeing their nails and finger-tips. The dye is prepared by

bruising the leaves and moistening them with a little lime-water. This

mixture is then applied to the nails, tips of the fingers, palms of the

hands, and sometimes even to the soles of the feet, which in a short

time become dyed of a reddish-orange color. The stain remains on the

skin until it wears off.

[29] A "Guru" is a spiritual guide, a Brahman ecclesiastic, invested

with the power of attending births, deathbeds, marriages, and settling

all such questions as effect Hindoo caste and all its duties and

obligations. A Guru is generally an ascetic of peculiar sanctity, and is

often worshipped as an incarnate deity. This office descends from father

to son. The Gurus comprise a very large and influential body of men,

occupying the chief cities of India, wielding a despotic power over the

people, as their curse is dreaded by all ranks and conditions of people.

[30] The Bhats and Charans, the bards and genealogists of these tribes,

are remarkable for their power of reciting from memory whole epics

describing the birth, exploits, and death of the various Bhil chiefs.

They will also devote themselves to death or to receive the most cruel

mutilations in order to keep a promise, accomplish a vow, recover a

debt, or to obtain any end which might be secured by inspiring others

with superstitious reverence and dread. A Bhat of Viramghaw in 1806 put

his little daughter, a beautiful girl of seven years old, to death by

decapitation, and with her blood, which he carried in an earthen vessel,

he sprinkled the gate of the Malliah Rajah's castle, and thus compelled

him to pay a debt to the Gaikwar for which he had become security.

[31] The British established in 1825 a Bhil agency in Central India, and

organized a Bhil corps in order to utilize the warlike instincts of the

various Bhil tribes. This brave body of men, who have distinguished

themselves in war, have recently done good service in aiding to put down

the predatory habits of their countrymen. They are slowly becoming

cultivators of the soil, though still unwilling to rent land and thus

bind themselves to fixed habits for any length of time.

[32] A remarkable account of a residence with Nádir, and of some of his

murderous exploits, will be found in the _Autobiography of Lutfullah_.

[33] The great reforms which have been effected in many of these tribes

have been very materially assisted by the influence of the Bhil women.

[34] A strip of cloth worn by the lower population of India around the

loins.

[35] The Gonds are supposed to be the aborigines of the Sagar and

Nagpoor provinces, and have much in common with the Khandsor Khands,

another tribe of North Sarkar. They have dialects peculiar to

themselves, and which have no affinity whatever with the Sanskrit, but

probably are akin to that of the Dravidian stock. They kept up their old

religious custom of human sacrifice until 1835-45, when the strong arm

of the English interfered and has almost put a stop to it.

[36] Gondwana has been thought by some Oriental scholars to be the

ancient Chèdi, which was ruled by the great Sisupal, who is said to have

governed India about the time of the appearance of Krishna (the last of

the incarnations of Brahm) on earth. They identify Chanderi, his ancient

capital, with the modern Chanda, a city in British India in the Nagpoor

division of the Central Provinces, and abounding in fine remains of huge

reservoirs for water, cave-temples, and the curious tombs of the

aboriginal Gond kings.

[37] Meriah means "death-doomed," and Kudatee, "dedicated to the god."

[38] See _Introduction to the Second Book of the Rig-Veda_, by H. H.

Wilson, p. xvii.

[39] Khalif, or Caliph, successor or vicar of Mohammed, from Khalifah,

an Arabic title given to the acknowledged successors of Mohammed, who

were regarded as invested with supreme dignity and power in all matters

relating to religion and civil polity.

[40] A Mohammedan reformer and founder of the Sikh religion. He preached

about the fourteenth century against the abuses of the Mohammedan

religion, and inaugurated the spiritual worship of God alone. One day,

when Nanak lay on the ground absorbed in devotion, with his feet toward

Mecca, a Moslem priest, seeing him, cried, "Base infidel! how darest

thou turn thy feet toward the house of Allah?" Nanak answered, "And

thou, turn them if thou canst toward any spot where the awful house of

God is not."

[41] The Shiahs and Sunnis are the two most important Mohammedan sects.

The Sunnis hold the "Sunnat," or traditions of Mohammed, as of nearly

equal authority to the Kuran, and they revere equally the four

successors of the Prophet, Abu-Bahkr, Omar, Usman, and Ali. The Shiahs,

on the other hand, reject the traditions, and do not acknowledge the

successors of the Prophet as Khalifahs.

[42] One of the greatest of Aryan kings mentioned in the Mahabharata.

[43] The sectarian marks of the Hindoos vary with their caste and the

deity to whom they attach themselves. The high-caste Brahman makes only

a circular mark with a little sacred mud of the Ganges, and mixed with

water, on his forehead. This is symbolic of the mystic word "Aum." The

followers of Vishnoo, a second grade of Brahmans, use a species of clay

brought from a pool, Dhwaiaka, in which the seven shepherdesses, who are

always represented with Krishna, are supposed to have drowned themselves

on hearing of the death of their favorite hero. This mark is a circle

with a straight line passing through, symbolizing the regenerative

powers of nature. The Mahadèo sect wear two straight lines on the brow;

the one on the right stands for God, the one on the left for man, a

transverse streak of red lime: a preparation of turmeric and lime is

used; it means God and man united. A great many wear the mark of

Vishnoo's weapon with which he is supposed to have killed the

sea-monster to rescue from destruction the three Vèdas. The followers of

Siva, one of the four great sects of Hindoos, wear a complex mark of

circle and cross combined, made with the ashes of burnt cow-ordure,

symbolizing the destruction of all sin and the beatitude in store for

the pure and holy.

[44] A mill or grinder, used for grinding rice and wheat.