the investiture of the _poita_, the sacred thread of a Brahmin, on the
strength of which he assumes the highest ecclesiastical honors and
privileges. According to the Hindoo almanac, an auspicious day is fixed
for this important ceremonial, which opens a new chapter in the life of
a Brahmin especially intended to ensure him all the rare benefits of a
full-blown _Dwija_, or the twice-born. In celebrating the rite,
particular regard is had to the state of the weather; should any
atmospheric disturbance occur, the ceremony is postponed to the next
clear day. The age assigned for the investiture is between nine and
fifteen years. The occasion is accompanied in many cases by the
preparation of _ananunda naru_, a kind of sweetmeat made of powdered
rice, treacle, cocoanut and gingelly seeds rolled up into small round
balls and fried in mustard oil. This particular sort of Hindoo
confectionery, evidently a relic of primitive preparations, is
manufactured on all occasions indicative of domestic rejoicing, hence
the significance of the name given above. Before the appointed day, the
boy is enjoined to abstain from the use of fish and oil, and on the
morning of the ceremony, having been shaved, he is made to bathe, and
put on red clothes, and when the rite of investiture commences wears a
conical shaped tinsel hat, while the priest reads certain incantations
and worships Narayan or Vishnoo, represented by a small round stone
called _Saligram Sulu_, the ordinary household god of all Hindoos. A
piece of cloth is held over his head, that he may not see or be seen by
any of the non Brahminical caste. He then assumes the _dunda_, or the
staff of an ascetical mendicant, which is represented by the branch of a
_vilwa_ tree held in his right hand, at the top of which is tied a knot
with a bit of dyed cloth. An initiatory _poita_ made of twisted _khoosh_
grass, to which is fastened a piece of deer's skin, is next placed over
the boy's left shoulder during the repetition of the prescribed
incantations. The father then repeats to his son, in a low voice, lest a
Soodra should hear, the sacred _gayutree_ three times, which he tries
his best to commit to memory. The _khoosh_ grass _poita_ is here
removed, and a real thread _poita_ spun by Brahmin women[92] which he
is to wear ever afterwards, is substituted in its place. The boy now
puts on his shoes and holds an umbrella in his hand while the priest
reads and the father repeats the usual incantations, tending to awaken
in the boy a sense of the grave responsibility he assumes. Thus dressed
as a _Brahmacharee_ (a religious mendicant), with a staff upon his
shoulder and a beggar's wallet hanging by his side, he goes to his
mother, father and other relatives and begs alms, repeating at the same
time a certain word in Sanskrit. They give him each a small quantity of
rice, a few _poitas_ and a few Rupees, amounting in some cases to two or
three hundred. The boy then squats down while the father offers a burnt
sacrifice and repeats the customary incantations. After the performance
of these ceremonies, the boy in his _Brahmacharee_ attire suddenly rises
up in a fit of pretended ecstacy and declares before the company that he
is determined in future to lead the life of a religious mendicant. The
announcement of this resolution instantly evokes the sympathy of the
father, mother and other relatives, and they all persuade him to change
his mind and adopt a secular life, citing instances that that life is
favourable to the cultivation and growth of domestic and social
affections as well as religious principles of the highest order. The
holy Shastra expressly inculcates that a clean heart and a righteous
spirit make men happy even amid the sorrows of earth, and that the
sackcloth of mendicancy is not essential to righteousness if we
earnestly and sincerely ask God to give us His true riches. Thus
admonished, he with apparent reluctance abandons his pre-concerted
design, which is a mere sham, and assumes the _role_ of secularism.
Certain formulas are now repeated, after which the boy leaves his
_vilwa_ staff, and takes in hand a thin Bamboo staff, which he throws
over his shoulder. Other ritualistic rites are then performed, at the
close of which the priest receives his fee for the trouble and departs
home with the offerings. The boy next walks into a room, a woman pouring
out water as he goes. He is then taught to commit to memory his daily
service, called _sundhya_, after the repetition of which he eats the
_charu_ made of milk, sugar and rice boiled together.
For three days after being investited with the _poita_ the boy is
enjoined to sleep either on a carpet or a deer's skin, without a
mattress or a musquito curtain. His food consists of boiled rice, ghee,
milk and sugar, etc., only once a day, without oil and salt. He is
strictly prohibited to see the sun or the face of a soodra, and is
constantly employed in learning the sacred _gayutree_ and the forms of
the daily service which should be repeated thrice in a day. On the
morning of the fourth day, he goes to the sacred stream of the Ganges,
throws the two staves into the water, bathes, repeats his prayers,
returns home, and again enters on the performance of his ordinary
secular duties. During the day, a few Brahmins are fed according to the
circumstances of the family. Thus the ceremony of investiture is closed,
and the boy being purified and regenerated is elevated to the rank of a
_Dwija_ or twice born. How easily does the Brahminical Shastra make a
change for the better in a religious sense in a youth quite incapable of
forming adequate conceptions of a spiritual regeneration by the mere
administration of a single rite!
Having endeavoured to give thus a short account of the ceremonies
connected with the investiture of the sacred thread of a Brahmin, it
remains to be seen how far his present position, character and conduct
harmonise with the reputed sanctity of his regenerated nature. Great
blame is laid at the door of the British Government, because it does not
accord that high respect to the sacerdotal class which their own Rajahs
had shewn them in the halcyon days of Hindooism. Before the advent of
the British to India, the doctrines of the Brahminical creed, as
indicated above, were in full force. Every Hindoo king used to enforce
on all classes of the people high or low, a strict observance of the
idolatrous ceremonies prescribed in the Hindoo Shastra. In the dark ages
scarcely any nation in the world was hemmed in by such a close ring of
religious ceremonials as the people of this country. Almost every
commonplace occurrence had its peculiar rites which required the
interposition of the sacerdotal class. On occasions of prosperity or
adversity, of rejoicing or calamity, their ministration was alike
needed. These formed their ordinary sources of gain, but the greatest
means of support consisted in the grants of lands, including sometimes
houses, tanks, gardens, etc., given in perpetuity to gods or the
priests. These grants are called, as I have already stated, the
_Debatras_ and _Brahmatras_. Among others, the Rajahs of Burdwan,
Kishnaghur, and Tipperah made the greatest gifts, and their names are
still remembered with gratitude by many a Brahmin in Bengal. But the Law
authorizing the resumption of rent-free tenures has, as must naturally
be expected, made the English Government obnoxious, and it is denounced
in no measured terms for the sacrilegious act. If Manu were to visit
Bengal now, his indignation and amazement would know no bounds in
witnessing the sacerdotal class reduced to the humiliating position of a
servile, cringing and mercenary crowd of men. Their original prestige
has suffered a total shipwreck. Generally speaking, a Brahmin of the
present day is practically a Soodra (the most inferior class) of the
past age, irretrievably sunk in honor and dignity. Indeed it was one of
the curses of the Vedic period that to be a Brahmin of the present _Kali
yagu_ would be an impersonation of corruption, baseness and venality.
There is a common saying amongst the Natives that a Brahmin is a beggar
even if he were possessed of a lakh of Rupees (L10,000.) It is a
lamentable fact that impecuniosity is the common lot of the class. In
ordinary conversation, when the question of the comparative fortunes of
the different classes is introduced, a Brahmin is often heard to lament
his most impecunious lot. The gains of the sacerdotal class of the
present day have been reduced to the lowest scale imaginable. If an
officiating priest can make ten Rupees a month, he considers himself
very well off. He can no longer plume himself on his religious purity
and mental superiority, once so pre-eminently characteristic of the
order. The spread of English education has sounded the death-knell of
his spiritual ascendancy. In short, his fate is doomed; he must bear or
must forbear, as seems to him best. The tide of improvement will
continue to roll on uninterruptedly, in spite of every "freezing and
blighting influence," and we heartily rejoice to discover already that
the "tender blade is grown into the green ear, and from the green ear to
the rich and ripened corn."
When, a few years ago, Sir Richard Temple carefully examined the
Criminal Statistics of Bengal, he was most deeply concerned to find that
the proportion of the Brahmin criminals in the jails of the Province far
outnumbered that of any other caste. This is an astounding fact, bearing
the most unimpeachable testimony to the very lamentable deterioration of
the Hindoo ecclesiastical class in our days. To expatiate on the subject
would be unpalatable. But we believe we can point with a degree of
pardonable pride to a past period when nine men of literary genius,
among whom the renowned Kalidas, the Indian Shakespeare, was the most
brilliant, flourished in the Court of Vikramaditya in Ougein; but
dynastic changes were simultaneously accompanied by the rapid decline of
learning as well as of religious purity.
The English rule, though most fiercely denounced by selfish,
narrow-minded men, has nevertheless been productive of the most
beneficial results even as far as the sacerdotal class is concerned.
Every encouragement is now-a-days afforded to the cultivation of the
classical language of India--Sanskrit--and not only are suitable
employments provided for the most learned Pundits[93] in all the
Government, Missionary and private educational Institutions throughout
the country, but the University degrees conferred on the most successful
students, tend to stimulate them to further laudable exertions in the
study of the sacred language, which, but for this renewed attempt at
cultivation and improvement, would have been very much neglected.
Independently of the above consideration, it is no less gratifying than
certain that the progress of education has produced men, sprung from the
sacerdotal class, whose eminent scholarly attainments, high moral
principles and unblemished character, as well as a practical useful
career, have raised them to the foremost ranks of Hindoo society.
Rammohun Roy, Dr. K. M. Banerjea, Pundit Isser Chunder Vidyasager, Baboo
Bhoodeb Mookerjee, and others of equal mental calibre, are names
deservedly enshrined in the grateful memory of their countrymen. If
Western knowledge had not been introduced into India, men of such high
culture and moral excellence would have passed away unnoticed and
unrecognised in the republic of letters, and the fruits of their
literary labors, instead of being regarded as a valuable contribution to
our stock of knowledge, would have been buried in obscurity. To study
the lives of such distinguished pioneers of Hindoo enlightenment, "is to
stir up our breasts to an exhilarating pursuit of high and ever-growing
attainments in intellect and virtue."
FOOTNOTES:
[91] As the natural consequence of this declension of supremacy,
Brahminical learning, from this and other analogous circumstances, slept
a winter sleep, occasionally disturbed and broken by brilliant
coruscations of light thrown upon it by Western researches,
contemporaneously sustained by the faint efforts of learned Pundits.
[92] To so miserable a strait are some of them reduced that they
actually strive to get a living by making these sacred thread poitas and
strings for loins, indicating the pinching poverty and repulsive squalor
in which they pine away their wretched existence. Indeed not a few of
these widows are left "to the cold pity and grudging charity of a frosty
world." They might almost sing and sigh with the poet as he sat in deep
dejection on the shore.
"Alas! I have nor hope, nor health, Nor peace within, nor calm around;
Nor that content, surpassing wealth, The sage in contemplation found;
* * * * *
Others I see whom these surround, Smiling they live, and call life
pleasure; To me that cup hath been dealt in another measure."
[93] However learned a Pundit might be in philology, philosophy, logic
and theology, he is lamentably deficient in scientific knowledge,
notably in geography and ethnology. With a view to test the knowledge of
his Pundit on those two subjects, Bishop Middleton was said to have once
asked him two very simple questions, (1) whence are the English come?
(2) what is their origin? The reply of the Pundit was somewhat to the
following effect: The English are come somewhere from Lunka or Ceylon
(the imaginary land of cannibals), and they are of mixed origin, sprung
from monkey and cannibal, because they jabber like monkeys, and sit like
them on chairs with their legs hanging down,--an attitude peculiar to
the monkey species,--and they eat like cannibals half-boiled beef, pork,
mutton, &c. Childish as the reply was, the pious Bishop, however, with
his wonted benignity, smiled and corrected his error.
XV.
THE BENGALEE BABOO.
This is an euphonious oriental title, suggestive of some amiable
qualities which are eminently calculated to adorn and elevate human
life. A Bengalee Baboo of the present age, however, is a curious product
composed of very heterogeneous elements. The importation of Western
knowledge has imbued him with new fangled ideas, and shallow draughts
have made him conceited and supercilious, disdaining almost everything
Indian, and affecting a love of European aesthetics. The humourous
performance of Dave Carson, and the caustic remarks of Sir Ali Baba,
give graphic representations of his anglicised taste, habits and
bearing. Any thing affected or imitated is apt to nauseate when
contrasted with the genuine and natural.
The anglicised Baboos are certainly well-meaning men, instinctively
disposed to move within the groove traditionally prescribed for them,
but the scintillation of European ideas and a servile imitation of
Western manners have played sad havoc with their original tendencies.
Ambitious of being considered enlightened and elevated above the common
herd, their improved taste and inclination almost unconsciously relegate
them to the enchanted dream-land of European refinement, amidst the
ridicule of the wise and the discerning. Society now-a-days is a
quick-shifting panorama. Old scenes and associations rapidly pass away
to make room for new ones, and prescriptive usages fall into oblivion. A
new order of things springs up, and new actors replace the old ones. The
influence of the aged is diminished, and the young and impulsive seize
with avidity the prizes of life, forgetting in their wild precipitancy
the unerring dictates of cool deliberation. "The hurried, bustling,
tumultuous, feverish Present swallows up men's thoughts," and the
momentous interests of society looming in the Future are almost entirely
disregarded. The result necessarily carries them wide of the great
object of human life. They forfeit the regard and sympathy of their
fellow countrymen whose moral and intellectual advancement they should
gradually strive to promote by winning their love and confidence.
As a man of fashion he cuts a burlesque figure by adopting partly
Mussulman and partly European dress, and imitating the European style of
living, as if modern civilization could be brought about by wearing
tight pantaloons, tight shirts and black coats of alpaca or broadcloth.
He culminates in a coquettish embossed cap or thin-folded shawl turban,
with perhaps a shawl neckcloth in winter. He eats mutton chops and fowl
curry, drinks Brandy panee or Old Tom, and smokes Manilla or Burmah
cigars _a la Francaise_. Certainly the use of those eatables and
drinkables is proscribed in the Hindoo Shastra, and an honest avowal of
it will sooner or later expose him to public derision, and estrange him
from the hearts of the orthodox Hindoos. A wise European, who has the
real welfare of the people at heart, will never encourage such an
objectionable line of conduct, because it is _per se_ calculated to
denationalise. To be more explicit, even at the risk of verbosity, it
should be mentioned that Baboos resident in Calcutta not unjustly pride
themselves on being the denizens of the great Metropolis of British
India, which is unquestionably the focus of enlightenment, the centre of
civilization and refinement, and the emporium of fashion in the East.
People in the country glory and console themselves with the idea that in
their adoption of social manners and customs they follow the example of
the big Baboos of Calcutta. Although the fashions of Hindoo society in
Calcutta do not change with the rapidity they do in Paris and London,
monthly, fortnightly and weekly, yet they vary, perhaps, once in two or
three years, and even then the change is partial and not radical. Slowly
and gradually, the Hindoos of Bengal have abandoned their original and
primitive dress, which consisted of thin slender garments, suited to the
warm temperature of the climate at least for the greater part of the
year, and adopted that of their conquerors. A simple _dhootee_ and
_dubjah_, with perhaps an _alkhala_ on the back and a folded _pugree_ on
the head, constituted the dress of a Bengali not long before the battle
of Plassey. The court dress was, indeed, somewhat different, but then it
was a servile imitation of that of a Rajpoot chief or a Mussulman king.
When Rajahs Rajbullub, and Nubkissen, and Suddur-ud-din, a Mohamedan,
attended the Government House in the time of Clive and Hastings, what
was their court costume but an exact copy of the Mussulman dress? Even
now, after the lapse of a century and a half, they use their primitive
dress at home, _viz._, a _dhootee_ and an _uraney_. An Englishman would
not easily recognise or identify a Bengalee at home and a Bengalee in
his office dress, the difference being striking and marked. But the
establishment of the British rule in India has introduced a very great
change in the national costume and taste, irrespective of the
intellectual revolution, which is still greater. Twenty years ago the
gala dress of a Bengalee boy consisted of a simple Dacca _dhootee_ and a
Dacca _ecloye_, with a pair of tinsel-worked shoes; but now rich
English, German and China satin, brocade and velvet with embossed
flowers, and gold and silver fringes and outskirts, have come into
fashion and general use. It is a common sight to see a boy dressed in a
pantaloon and coat made of the above costly stuffs, with a laced velvet
cap, driving about the streets of Calcutta during the festive days. Of
course the more genteel and modest of the class, _sobered down_ by age
and experience, do not share in the juvenile taste for the gaudy and
showy. As becomes their maturer years, they are satisfied with a decent
broadcloth coat and pantaloon, with a white cloth or Cashmere shawl
_pugree_, more in accordance with simple English taste. But both the
young and the old must have patent Japan leather shoes from Cuthbertson
and Harper, Monteith & Co., or the Bentinck Street Chinese shoemakers,
the laced Mussulman shoes having gone entirely out of fashion. Nor is
the taste of the Hindoo females in a primitive stage as far as
costliness is concerned. Instead of Dacca _Taercha_ or _Bale Boo[t.]a_
Sari, they must have either Benares gold embroidered or French embossed
gossamer _Sari_, with gold lace borders and ends. It would not be out of
place to notice here that it would be a very desirable improvement in
the way of decency to introduce among the Hindoo females of Bengal a
stouter fabric for their garment in place of the present thin, flimsy,
loose _sari_, without any other covering over it. In this respect, their
sisters of the North-Western and Central Provinces, as well as those of
the South, are decidedly more decent and respectable. A few respectable
Hindoo ladies have of late years begun to put an _unghia_ or corset over
their bodies, but still the under vestment is shamefully indelicate. Why
do not the Baboos of Bengal strive to introduce a salutary change in the
dress of their mothers, wives, sisters and daughters, which private
decency and public morality most urgently demand? These social reforms
must go hand in hand with religious, moral and intellectual improvement.
The one is as essential to the elevation and dignity of female character
as the other is to the advancement of the nation in the scale of
civilization.
The Lancashire and German weavers have ample cause to rejoice that their
manufactured colored woollen fabrics have greatly superseded the Indian
_Pashmina_ goods--Cashmere shawls not excepted,--and European Cashmere,
broadcloth, flannel, hosiery and haberdashery are now in great request.
From the wealthiest Baboo to the commonest fruit seller, half hose or
full stockings are very commonly used. This forms an essential part of
the official gear of a _keranee_ (writer) of the present day, though he
is now seen without his national _pugree_ or head dress.
A Bengalee Baboo is said to be a money-making man. By the most ingenious
makeshifts he contrives to earn enough to enable him to make both ends
meet, and lay by something for the evening of his life. He is generally
a thrifty character, and does not much mind how the world goes when his
own income is positive. He lacks enterprise, and is therefore most
reluctant to engage in any haphazard commercial venture, though he has
very laudable patterns amongst his own countrymen, who, by dint of
energy, prudence, perseverance and probity, have risen from an obscure
position in life to the foremost rank of successful Native merchants. He
is destitute of pluck, and the risk of a commercial venture stares him
in the face in all his highways and byways. In many cases he has
inherited a colossal fortune, but that does not stir up in his breast an
enterprising spirit. He seeks and courts service, and in nine cases out
of ten succeeds. The sweets of service, and the prospect of promotion
and pension, slowly steal into his soul, and he gladly bends his neck
under the yoke of servitude. It is a lamentable fact that he is a
stranger to that "proud submission of the heart which keeps alive in
servitude itself the spirit of an exalted freedom." As a vanquished
race, subordination is the inevitable lot of the Natives, but it is
edifying to see how they hug its trammels with perfect complacency.
The English Government is to the people of Bengal a special boon, a
god-send. Almost every respectable family of Bengalee Baboos, past or
present, is more or less indebted to it for its status and distinction,
position and influence, affluence and prosperity. The records of
authentic history clearly demonstrate the fact that the Baboos of Bengal
have been more benefited by their British rulers than ever they were
under their own dynasty. Instances are not wanting to corroborate the
fact. The love of money is natural in man, and few men are more
powerfully and, in many cases, more dangerously influenced by it than
the people of this country. "It is a thirst which is inflamed by the
very copiousness of its draughts." Possession or accumulation does not
sufficiently satisfy it.
Experience and observation amply attest the truth of the following
current saying among the Hindoos of the Upper Provinces, _viz._,
"_Kamayta topeewallah_, _lotetah dhoteewallah_," the meaning of which
is, the English earn, the Bengalees plunder. To be more explicit, the
English continue to extend their conquests, the Bengalee Baboos
participate in the loaves and fishes of the Public Service. In a
dejected spirit of mind, a Hindoosthanee is often heard to mourn; he
addresses a Sahib in the most respectful manner imaginable, by using
such flattering terms as "_Khodabund_, _garibparbar_," but in nine cases
out of ten the Sahib scornfully turns away his head; when, on the
contrary, a Bengalee _gir gir karkay dho ba[t.]h sanay diya_, _i. e._,
jabbers to him a few words, he patiently listens to him, and signifies
his acquiescence in what he says by a nod. In his boorish simplicity,
the Hindoosthanee concludes that the Bengalee Baboos are well versed in
charms, or else how do they manage to tame a grim biped like a Sahib.
With a view to remove this erroneous impression, which until recently
was so very common among the inhabitants of the Upper Provinces, and the
existence of which is so prejudicial to the general encouragement of
education throughout India, as well as to the impartial character and
high dignity of the paramount power, the local Governments have been
directed in future to select for public service all the educated Natives
born and bred up under their respective Administrations in preference to
the Bengalees. Thus the aspiration of a Bengalee Baboo, so far as Public
Service is concerned, is now restricted within the limits of his own
Province.