among the things that cannot be shaken. The truth, as disclosed from His cross who was the Desire of all nations, is firm as the ordinances of Heaven. -Rev. Dr. Spring's "Attractions of the Cross." REMINISCENCES OF A MISSION TO THE MYSORE. BY THE REV. WILLIAM ARTHUR. CHAPTER V.-MY CIRCUIT. (Continued from page 588.) BEFORE the day for commencing the feast, the top of the car was towering among the trees. The prints which every one has seen of the car of Juggernaut, give a just idea of the vehicles used for idol-processions all over the country,—a ponderous structure of wood, rising through several successive stories, in the form of a tower, and resting on four giant-wheels of solid wood. On the appointed day, crowds of people flocked to the sacred spot from every direction. They had no means of shelter, and therefore selected a place under some tree where they might sleep, engaging it by pre-occupation. With the devotees was a proportionate number of jugglers, showmen, and gamblers. Those swinging-boxes popular in English fairs, (called, I believe," whirligigs,") in which four persons ride at a time, and, revolving vertically, are in turn above and below, were whirling a boisterous freight of urchins. Not a few were enjoying the excitement of cock-fights, and ram-fights; the latter being a favourite pastime with the Hindus, but the former chiefly practised by the Mohamedans. Early in the evening, when entering the eastern gate, we were met by a stately procession. A band of music led the way. Then came a train of ladies, the wives of the merchants residing in the fort, who had exhausted their own skill and their husbands' wealth to make them splendid. Their silks were costly, their jewels profuse; they shone with gold; and as they walked, silver music tinkled on their ankles. Their cheeks were saffroned, their teeth vermilioned, and their black eyes surrounded with a circle of auxiliary blackness. They marched with a slow and reverential grace, each lady holding up on the palms of her hands (palmas supinas) two vessels, some of polished brass, some of silver, on which were tastefully arranged bananas, mangoes, pine-apples, pomegranates, limes, oranges, and tufts of cusha-grass, or the sacred tulasi. They were on too high an errand to walk on vulgar earth. Before them a man spread upon the ground a succession of silk cloths, such as are used by the ladies for garments; and on these garments, thus strewed in the way, they walked the whole distance from the fort to the temple, about half a mile, that they might with becoming reverence approach a presence so august as that of Goobbee Appa, “the old schoolmaster!" Towards nightfall the crowd stood densely over all the ground spreading before the temple. A small muntapa, or domed canopy, supported by stone pillars, and covering a small raised platform, stood about half-w -way between the temple and the car, and was used as a station, or resting-place, for the idol. Flambeaux gleamed on the dark faces and variegated attire of the thick mass. Hosts of musicians were torturing the air into excruciating utterances, as if it were in mortal pain. Groups of gaily-dressed temple women added to the brilliancy and to the blackness of the scene. Gaudy flags hung out from the car waved gently, and a thick rope from each side stretched far before it. Between it and the muntapa we stood preaching the Gospel of Christ, to a serried crowd of listeners. Presently came a Priest bearing in one hand a small brass vessel, and in the other a bunch of cusha-grass. He walked slowly round the car, and round the muntapa, which he then ascended; and, dipping the bunch of grass into the holy water, carefully sprinkled the spot on which the god was about to rest. By this rite India seemed brought into present and vivid connexion with ancient and modern Rome. One might have been watching a Romish Priest, either of our own day or that of Virgil. Who ever witnessed the close of burial-service in a church on the Continent, without being vividly reminded of the very same scene as occurring at the grave of the hapless minstrel ? Idem ter socios purá circumtulit undâ, En., lib. vi., v. 230. A moment or two after this, a band of music issued from the temple, accompanied by a blaze of torch-light, and a troop of dancing-girls. Priests and wealthy votaries followed; then, borne on men's shoulders, a richlycaparisoned litter, on which sat the idol, covered with a graceful canopy. On each side were men plying large fans, to protect him from dust and flies. The march was slow, solemn, and devotional. It might have been the ark of the Lord. On reaching the muntapa, they rested the god for a few minutes; and then, reaching the car, began to pace round it a slow circuit; but when approaching us, the litter suddenly stopped, and the men moved back a few paces, as if dragged involuntarily. This was repeated several times, leaving us to infer that the god was offended at our presence, and would not proceed; but not choosing to see the cause of his reluctance, we kept our ground; and at length some of the great men, seizing on the pole of the litter, pulled it heartily forward, by which zeal the indignation of Goobbee Appa was appeased; for he forthwith proceeded, and in a few minutes was upon his lofty throne. A suite of Priests surrounded him, and the fan-men fanned lustily. Immediately on seeing him seated, the people took hold of the ropes in front, forming two long lines of men, with a space of three or four yards between. In this space the musicians and temple-women took their post. At this moment the car, with its enormous height, its waving flags, and the airy figures perched on high, towered impressively in the glaring torch-light. The long avenue of human beings in front, centred by the group of dancers, gave it a touch of new and wild sublimity, in sight of which curiosity, wonder, and weeping struggled for the mastery. The band struck up, the dance began, the men at the ropes gave a shout, and stretched to the draught. There was a moment's pause: then the ponderous vehicle trembled, creaked, shook, and rumbled forward, with a heavy crashing. At that instant there rose from the centre to the utmost edge of that throng a loud, reverent, but exulting, cry, Swami! Swami! "O God! O God!" Thousands of voices swelled that invocation; thousands of heads bowed low. The lost race might have risen to hail the Redeemer, "travelling in the greatness of his strength, mighty to save." Then from all sides a shower of plantains rained on the car; and, as they rebounded, happy, happy, did he seem who secured a fruit sanctified by the touch of a thing so holy. The moving tower rum bled on, and the hapless people shouted. Little did they think that that wretched idol was both the sign of their darkness, and the instrument of their undoing. Their lamentable glee, and the magnitude of the car, irresistibly reminded you of the Trojans rejoicing about the pompous trophy that carried, but concealed, their destruction. And these were men! And they were our fellow-subjects! And they must die, and meet God! And our fathers were once as dark as they! A procession of maniacs to hail madness, or of skeletons to honour famine, or of corpses to welcome plague, could hardly touch you with a stranger or sadder thrill. After the first great day, the attendance on the feast diminished; but, throughout the week, the ceremonies went on. Each night the idol made a procession, the vehicle being varied each time,—an elephant, a kite, a peacock, and other forms, being called into requisition. Every evening we had a large and attentive audience. We pitched our little tent close by the ground, in order to be near the people during the heat of the day, that we might have opportunities of conversing with them. But our house was such an object of curiosity, that the numbers coming to see it were quite sufficient to furnish us with a perpetual congregation. While we reasoned with them freely on religious subjects, we conciliated them by gratifying their curiosity. It is often said, by persons who ought to know the Hindus, that they have no curiosity; which is just as true as the favourite assertion that they have no gratitude. Their capability of the latter is not very often tested; and the existence of the former is frequently concealed by their good breeding, or their pride, which does not like to look ignorant. Everything in our house was wonderful; for the domestic inventory of a Hindu is complete when he has got four walls, a roof, a floor, a few waterpots and cooking-pots, a pestle and mortar to pound rice with,* and a handmill, exactly the same as is still found on the west coast of Ireland, and in some of the Scottish isles, under the name of a quern. A mat for a bed is a comfort; a ratna cambli, which is just one of our hearth-rugs, is the couch of the luxurious; carpets are for Kings. The dry, clean floor is both chair and table; the plates are made daily as the meal is cooking, by stitching together a few leaves; knives are not needed to cut rice; practised fingers make good spoons; a Bramhan has as much notion of a fork as had that worthy Briton Caractacus; and a Hindu lady knows as much about a china service as did King Alfred's mother. The cloth that covers a man by day, wraps him by night; a custom plainly common in the time of Moses, from the law given in Exod. xxii. 26, 27: "If thou at all take thy neighbour's raiment to pledge, thou shalt deliver it unto him by that the sun goeth down; for that is his covering only, it is his raiment for his skin: wherein shall he sleep?" If a man is so luxurious as to have under him a mat or rug, he is ready, at a moment's warning, to roll up his bed, put it under his arm, and walk away. He sleeps as comfortably under a tree as in a house. The houses of the rich differ from those of the poor only in being larger, furnished with better vessels, a few mats and rugs, and perhaps one or two silver drinking-cups. Those who came from remote villages stared at our rooms with pure bewilderment. The table first took their notice: "What is that? What is it for?" And hard it was to make them comprehend how we should need such a cumbrous thing to eat off, a matter they managed with perfect comfort from their own * This must not be fancied on the scale of a chemist's shop: the pestle is a hard stick, as thick and long as a man's arm. 66 knees. A bed was wonderful, and a chair mysterious. The books were objects of special marvelling. One day a fine old man, with white hair, after having wondered over and over again at everything in my study, from the steel-pen to the Venetian blinds, said, pointing across the verandah to Mr. Male's study, "May I go into that house?" He had scarcely entered, when his eye fell on the Centenary volume, which lay on the table, beautifully bound in red Russia, and gilt edges. "What is that?" he cried, pointing to it with delight and surprise. "A book." "A book!" exclaimed the old man; "that a book?" The printing astounded, and portraits enraptured, him. "What do you do with it?" he cried; "What do you do with it?" Why, read it, to be sure." "What, do you do nothing but read it? O, if we had it in our village, we would do pooja (worship') to it!" Some of them had heard of a watch, and craved a sight of that strange thing. They would eye it at a distance, hearken to the ticks like a child, then eye it again, venture to take it in their hand, turn it round and round, and watch the hands,-uttering notes of high amazement. What was it? How did it know the time? Where could it be got? How long would it live? And a flood of such interrogatories poured upon you. They would insist that it was alive. "Look at it, it moves; listen to it, it speaks: if speech and motion are not attributes of life, what are?" They can themselves tell the time with remarkable exactness, either by the length of their shadows, or by the position of the sun in the sky,—a kind of horography ill adapted to our cloudy regions. As the length of the days does not vary more than thirty minutes during the course of the year, they suppose it to be perfectly equable. Owing to this, my watch was in danger of losing its character; for when, in December, I happened to say it was not quite six o'clock, although the sun had set, they replied, "Who ever heard of the sun setting earlier one day than another? No, no; the sun always sets at six: he must be right; the watch is wrong." Goobbee Appa is indisputably the most honoured god of the town and neighbourhood; but he is by no means the only one. To worship only one god, is not in the nature of Hinduism. A secret distrust of the favourite deity is manifested by a search after others. The temple of Goobbee Appa stands, as has been said, outside the eastern gate. A few yards within that gate, in the main street, an open building attracts your eye to an altar of the god Mileappa. Facing you, at the head of the same street, is a small mud building to the goddess Yellama. It is built of mud, mean, and neglected-looking. But when the cholera was scourging the town, here centred the general hope. They did not take any medicine: they would say, "Medicine is for diseases; but cholera is no disease: Yellama just determines to kill a certain number of persons, and for that purpose puts a fire in their belly. To take medicine only enrages her, and makes her kill more." Sacrifices are esteemed the only remedy, and to these they had resort. I saw the heads of the buffaloes ranged before this disgusting idol, and the place around slippery with their blood. The Priests managed to delay this sacrifice until the disease was abating; but the day after it was offered, it broke out anew. After a fortnight had elapsed without a case, they repeated it; but the next day a person was seized. This gave us a great advantage in reasoning with them. Where they are within reach of English Doctors, the success of their treatment soon does away with the prejudice against medicine. In the same street with this temple is a large one, with an immense image of Busawa, the ox. There are few idols more honoured than he : his temples are numerous, his worshippers everywhere. He is the vahana, or "steed," of Shiva. They say, that to honour the steed, is to honour the rider; and if they are not worthy to approach the supreme Shiva, they may yet draw near to his steed. Two huge bulls, as fat as they could live, were constantly perambulating the streets, with a seal on the hip, which served to attest their sacredness. They seem conscious that they are free of the whole town. You will see them quietly walk up to the baskets of a grain-dealer, to levy a contribution, which he tries to make as light as possible by coaxing the god away; but woe to the profane wretch who would strike his sacred hide, no matter how heavily he may tax his stores! It has been put to me as a deep question in ethics, whether it were lawful to drive Busawa out of a corn-field; and if so, whether violence might be used. Once an arch ryot said, "O yes, it is lawful; for if Busawa were left in the field, he might eat too much, and hurt himself." Their veneration for these animals is very deep. Sometimes, while sitting in one of the shops, a man has broken off the conversation, and ran into the middle of the street, in order to worship one of these that happened to be passing. No crime is held so revolting as cow-murder. Had one of us killed a poor old woman of the outcastes, it would not have raised a hundredth part of the commotion that would have followed our getting a beef-steak, or a fillet of veal. Sometimes, when we had been preaching against sin, they would say, "You Padres are certainly remarkable men; you have only one sin, but that is as bad as all ours: you are murderers; we have a great many sins, but we are not murderers." In this they alluded to our eating fowls and mutton; for with them all life-taking is murder. This prejudice is so deep, that I sometimes felt disposed to eat only vegetables; but was decided against that course from the consideration that it would be a concession of scriptural truth, and would seem at least a recognition of the dogma, "All life is the same," out of which this prejudice arises. All that proceeds from the cow is holy. The domestic uses of her droppings have been already mentioned; but they have far higher offices: made into pills, and swallowed, they are highly effectual for inward purification. The panchagavya, or five products of the cow, including the nauseous with the pleasant, are, when taken by a penitent, (whose penitence, by the way, consists in taking them,) effectual, as the Abbé Dubois, quoting from a native author, informs us, "to the remission of all sins," even when “ committed with a perfect knowledge." It is a wonderful thing to see a man with strong sense looking you full in the face, and confidently maintaining this mischievous absurdity. Monday is specially sacred to Busawa, and on that day it is not lawful to put him to the yoke; but that rule is observed only by few. In the very next street to the temple of Busawa, is one to Bala Rama,* one of the incarnations of Vishtnu. To a curse of this god the Bramhans ascribe the exclusion of their caste from the kingly office. He gave them the whole earth; and then, to test their generosity, asked for as much land as he could stand on, that he might perform austerities. They, with their characteristic greediness,―a disposition they no more seem to think of concealing, than a soldier thinks of concealing his bayonet,-at once refused, and began to upbraid him with the contemptible sin of datapahara, * There have been three Ramas,-Parusha Rama, Bala Rama, and Shri or Dasharata Rama. 3 A VOL. II.-FOURTHI SERIES. |