The night in the hot season is much more trying than the day. There is not a breath stirring, and the heat of the day, taken in by the walls, is radiated all the night long. I found the night punkah in almost universal use but I thought I would get on without it, and used it very seldom. When the next hot season came I was glad to conform to the custom of the country, for I found when I had not the punkah I got up in the morning so tired and weary that I was unfit for the work of the day.

The aspect of the country at that season is very dreary. Some trees retain their freshness in the hottest weather; but not a blade of green grass is to be seen, and the ground is scorched, scarred, and baked, as if it had been turned into a desert.

[Sidenote: THE RAINY SEASON.]

A marvellous change is produced by the first heavy fall of rain. After stifling heat for some days, the rays of the sun beating with a fierceness which threatens to burn up all nature, and which drives the birds for shelter to the thickest foliage of the trees, the clouds gather, the thunder rolls, peal quickly succeeding peal, the lightning flashes incessantly, and then, after some heavy showers, there comes down for two or three days, with very little intermission, such torrents that it looks as if we were to be visited with a deluge. Within a week all nature is transformed. The parched earth gives way to the richest green. We in our country say in very propitious weather that we see things grow; but in India vegetation takes such a bound as it never does in our temperate climate. Immediately after the downpour of rain, the sun comes out in all its strength; and, under the action of heat and moisture, vegetation progresses marvellously. The fields are quickly ploughed, the seed, for which moisture and great heat is required, is sown, and in the course of three or four weeks they are far above the ground. Within three months the harvest of the rainy season, furnishing the people with rice, maize, and other grains, which furnish the principal food of the people, is gathered in.

The rainy season is productive in another and less pleasant manner. It is as favourable to insect life as it is to vegetable life. Flying white ants, flying bugs, and other unwelcome visitors of the same order, come out in thousands. At night, if the doors be open the white ants make for the lamps in such numbers that they are extinguished by them, and the room is in the morning found strewed with their dead. It requires a torpid temperament to remain calm under this visitation. All dislike it, and some find it a grievous trial. As the rainy season advances, the trouble abates, and by the time the cold weather sets in the ordinary house-fly by day and the mosquito by night alone remain to buzz about us. The mosquito has rightly got the first place among insect tormentors. The house-fly is at all seasons, in some more than in others, and gives not a little annoyance by its pertinacity.

The change at the commencement of the rainy season is delightful. The doors are thrown open, and the dry, parching wind gives place to a refreshing coolness. When the rain ceases, the heat returns; the weather is very muggy, the skin is irritated by the excessive perspiration, and many suffer more than during the hot season. When the rain is abundant and frequent, the suffering is much less than when there is little rain and much sun. There is one comfort at that time: we know we are going on to the cold weather, which will make amends for all that went before.

I can hardly conceive any country to have a finer climate than that of the North-West Provinces of India in the cold months. Rain does sometimes fall during that season; it may fall at any time of the year. I remember a heavy fall on the first of May, and about Christmas and the New Year it is eagerly desired for the crops, but ordinarily from week to week there is an unclouded sky. There is a cool, pleasant breeze from the west. In the house it is not only cool but cold, so that a little sunning is pleasant, and at night in December and January, especially far up the country, fires are welcome. Then Europeans, so far as circumstances permit, get into the open air and move freely about, with everything in the climate to favour their travelling.

[Sidenote: THE COLD SEASON.]

The beginning of the cold weather is a very busy season with the agricultural class, to which the great body of the people belong. If the rainy season has been favourable, especially if heavy rain has fallen towards its close, the wells are full, and from these, after the land has been ploughed, and the seed sown for the rabee crop, the most valuable crop of the year, the fields are irrigated. Whatever grows in our land in summer grows in North-Western India at that season: wheat, oats, barley, potatoes, carrots, are grown in abundance. About March the harvest is reaped.

As I proceed with these reminiscences, I shall have frequent occasion to refer to our North Indian winter, its scenes, and employments, and I have thought it well to enter at some length into a description of its peculiarities.

One thing I observed my first year which I had abundant opportunity to observe afterwards. The weather so welcomed by Europeans is very trying to most natives, especially to those of the humbler classes, whose clothing is very scanty. They never try to get warm by taking exercise. They cower in the morning and evening round a fire, which has commonly for its fuel dried cow-manure, with a coarse blanket over their head and shoulders. As the sun gets above the horizon, they plant themselves against a wall to bask in its rays, and if they can, do not stir till they are well heated. As might be expected, many of them suffer from chronic rheumatism. The extreme heat is not liked by them, but from it they suffer far less than from cold.

While most Europeans get new life in the cold weather, the little ones showing by their rosy cheeks how much they are benefited, a few are in better health when the weather is warm, as then they are less subject to aguish attacks. The remark is often made by those who have much sedentary work that they like the cold season for enjoyment, but find it unfavourable for work, as they cannot keep so steadily at it as they can when the heat keeps them within doors.

While giving the reminiscences of my first year, my mind has been continually carried forward to the experience of after-years in reference to the vernacular languages, the various classes with whom residence in India brings one into contact, and the seasons of the country. In giving partial expression to this experience under the heading of my first year, I have gone far beyond it. Those who favour me with the perusal of my narrative may perhaps find it more intelligible by my having anticipated myself.

I must confess months of the first year passed before I ceased to feel myself an exile. The scenes around were so unlike those of my own country, the prevailing idolatry so repulsive, the society, associations, and climate so different, that I turned from them to my native land with many a fond longing look. This feeling of exile was no doubt deepened by the illness in the family with whom I was residing. We had an English service every Thursday evening, conducted by the missionaries in the hall of the mission-house, but I greatly missed the services on the Lord's-day to which I had been accustomed.



CHAPTER VII.

THE CITY OF BENARES.

My greatly beloved and much esteemed friend, the late Rev. M. A. Sherring, years ago published a handsome volume under the title of The Sacred City of the Hindus, in which he gave ample information about its history, temples, castes, festivals, commerce, and religious pre-eminence in Hindu estimation. To that work I must refer readers who are desirous to be furnished with details. My aim is to describe as concisely and vividly as I can the marked peculiarities of the place.

Benares is the largest city in the North-Western Provinces, though it is approached in population by some others, as Delhi, Agra, and Allahabad. It is among the largest purely native cities in India, but it is greatly surpassed in population and wealth by Calcutta, Bombay, and Madras, the great seats of British rule, and the great emporia of Indian as well as of European commerce in the East. These cities under our rule have risen to be among the greatest in Eastern Asia. For many a day the population of Benares was said to be above 500,000, but this has turned out a very exaggerated conjecture.[1] When the first careful census was taken, the resident population was found to be under 200,000, and every succeeding census has confirmed its substantial accuracy. In the last census the number given is 207,570. When the first census was taken great surprise was expressed at the result, and some asserted no dependence could be placed on it. The ground of this assertion was that in the houses of some of the wealthier classes there are many females, who live, in native phrase, behind the curtain, who are never seen by outsiders, to whom the officials of the Government have no access; and on this account the accuracy of the return made to the enumerators entirely depends on the faithfulness of the head of the household. It has been said that when the first census was taken the general impression was a capitation tax was to be imposed, and that in consequence the inmates reported were far below the actual number. If there was error on this account it was to a very limited extent, as every subsequent census has agreed with the first, although the notion of a capitation tax has entirely died out. One going through Benares, from street to street, from one end of it to the other, does not get the impression its resident population exceeds the estimate found in official statements. The city has a great floating population, as it is the resort of strangers from all parts of India. It is reckoned that on the occasion of the great festivals there may be 100,000 visitors, some say 200,000, but we are not aware any attempt has been made to number them.

[Footnote 1: Bishop Heber visited Benares in 1824. He says in his journal, "The population, according to a census made in 1803, amounted to above 582,000—an enormous amount, and which one should think must have been exaggerated." The census which gives such a return must have been taken in a very singular manner.]

[Sidenote: TRADE AND COMMERCE.]

In commerce, as in population, Benares holds a high, but not the highest, place among Indian cities. The district of Benares is not so large as some others in the North-West; but it is very productive, is densely peopled, and the city has on this account a large local business. Besides, the merchants and bankers of Benares have dealings with the other districts of the province, and indeed with all parts of India. The city has many artificers. It has workers in stone, wood, iron, brass, silver and gold. They produce articles which command a large and profitable sale. God-making and toy-making are among the staple businesses of the place. The making of idols in different materials to suit the taste and means of purchasers, gives employment to many. The images while being made are only stone, brass, or gold, as it may be, and no reverence is then due to them. It is when certain sacred words are uttered over them, and the god is supposed to take possession of them, they become objects of worship. Benares is well known for its toys made of very light wood, and lacquered over. Of late years the enchased brass vessels made in Benares have been much admired, and have secured a large and profitable sale. Perhaps the most important manufacture of the place is kimkhwab—kinkob as it is called by Europeans—cloth made of silver and gold tissue, in which the princes and grandees of India array themselves on state occasions. I believe this business has fallen off, as with the incoming of European influence the love of barbaric pearl and gold has declined, if not among the rajahs of the land, among a class beneath them, who formerly thought they could not retain their rank in society if they did not appear on special occasions in gorgeous robes.

While in population and commerce there are cities in India which surpass Benares, in Hindu estimation it stands above them all in religious pre-eminence. Perhaps at the present time more eyes are turned reverently towards it than to any city on the face of the earth.



I must attempt a brief sketch of the history of Benares. We are sure it was not among the first cities erected by the Aryans after leaving their home in Central Asia and crossing the Indus. They first took possession of the land in the far north-west of the great country they had entered, and gradually made their way to the south and east. Wonderfully acute and painstaking though the Pundit mind be, it has so dwelt in the regions of speculation and imagination that it has paid no attention to historical research. Its laborious productions have left us ignorant of recent times, and we need not therefore wonder that, except by incidental allusions, it throws no light on the early settlements of the Aryans in India. We know that they brought with them a considerable measure of civilization, and soon erected cities. Indraprastha, built near the site of the present city of Delhi, and Hastinapore, some thirty miles from it, figure largely in the Mahabharut, the giant Hindu epic. Kunauj, lying east and south of Delhi, became some time afterwards the capital of a widely extended empire, which lasted, with vicissitudes, down to Muhammadan times. Benares is seen in the dim light of antiquity as a favourite abode of Brahmans, and as sacred on that account, but it does not appear that it ever was the seat of extended rule. For many a day it was subject to Kunauj, and it afterwards came under the sway of the Muhammadans, to whom it was subject for six hundred years.

[Sidenote: BUDDHISM.]

A clear proof of the influential position of Benares centuries before the Christian era, is furnished by the fact that Gautama, the founder of Buddhism, deemed it well to commence his public ministry there in the sixth century B.C.[2] The spot where he first unfolded his doctrine was a grove at a place now called Sarnath, about four miles from the present city. At this place there is a large Buddhist tower, which is seen from a great distance, and around it are extensive remains, which have been excavated under the direction of Major-General Cunningham, and have been found to be of Buddhist origin. The success which Buddhism had achieved and maintained for centuries in the country where it arose, is strikingly confirmed by the testimony of two Chinese Buddhists who went on pilgrimage to India, the one in the fifth century A.D., and the other towards the middle of the seventh. Their narratives have been preserved, and furnish us with most interesting details. From them we learn that down to the time of their visits Buddhism had temples, monasteries, and thousands of adherents; but it had not the field to itself, for these strangers tell us, especially the later of the two, that a large and increasing number of the people were warmly attached to Hinduism. We have no historical account of the overthrow of Buddhism, but we have reason to believe that towards the close of the eleventh century, or earlier, the devotees of Hinduism rose against it, and so stamped it out that not a temple was left standing and not a monastery remained. Major-General Cunningham says that about that period "the last votaries of Buddha were expelled from the continent of India. Numbers of images, concealed by the departing monks, are found buried near Sarnath; and heaps of ashes still lie scattered amidst the ruins, to show that the monasteries were destroyed by fire." This is confirmed by excavations made at a later period by Major Kittoe, who says, "All has been sacked and burned—priests, temples, idols, all together; for, in some places, bones, iron, wood and stone, are found in huge masses: and this has happened more than once." From Benares having been the scene of Gautama's early ministry, and the place where his first disciples were called, it stands high in the reverence of the millions who compose his followers, although their only living representatives there now are a few Jains, whom orthodox Buddhists regard as heretics.

[Footnote 2: The names and titles of this famous teacher are perplexing to those who do not know the meaning. His father was chief or king of a tribe called Sakyas, and therefore Gautama received the name of Sakya-Muni, or Sakya-Saint. When he announced himself as the inspired teacher of the nations he took the name of Buddha—the wise man, the enlightener, the inspired prophet.]

[Sidenote: THE SACREDNESS OF KASEE.]

Long before the time of Gautama Hinduism prevailed at Benares, and we have observed its rites were practised side by side with those of Buddhism when the city was visited by two Chinese pilgrims. Some time afterwards it obtained full sway under the form of fanatical devotion to Shiva the Destroyer, and that sway it has maintained down to our day. What Jerusalem is to the Jews; what Mecca is to the Muhammadans; what Rome is to the Roman Catholics—that, and more than that, Benares is to the Hindus. They form by far the largest portion of the population of India, and to them Benares—or as they delight to call it, Kasee the Splendid, the Glorious City—is the most sacred spot on earth. They say, indeed, it is not built on the earth, but on a point of Shiva's trident. They assert that at one time it was of gold, but in this degenerate age it has been turned into stone and clay. In their belief the Ganges is sacred through its entire course, but as it flows past the sacred city its cleansing efficacy is supposed to be vastly increased. The rites performed at Kasee have double merit, and its very soil and air are so fraught with blessing that all who die there go to heaven, whatever their character may be. With this belief diffused among the millions who, differing widely from each other in nationality and language, are devoted to Hinduism, it may be supposed how many eyes are reverently turned towards Kasee, and with what eager steps and high expectations vast numbers resort to it. I have frequently seen persons entering the city, not on foot—that they did not deem sufficiently respectful—but prostrating themselves on the ground, measuring the ground with their bodies, and approaching the sacred shrines. And then, especially on the occasion of great festivals, bands may be seen entering the city, often composed of women—hand-in-hand lest they should lose each other in the crowd—singing the praises of Shiva and the glories of his city. Many aged people come from distant parts of India—the greater number, I believe, from Bengal—to reside and end their days in it, that by becoming Kasseebas (dwellers in Kasee) they may when they die become Baikuntbas (dwellers in heaven).

Though Benares be par excellence the sacred city of the Hindus, strange to say they are proportionately fewer than in ten cities of the North-West. According to the census of 1872, there were 133,549 Hindus and 44,374 Mussulmans: that is, a little more than three Hindus to one Mussulman. In the great commercial city of Mirzapore, about thirty miles distant from Benares, there were five Hindus to one Mussulman. The fact thus certified is entirely at variance with the conjecture made by those who look at the crowds bathing at the riverside, and frequenting the temples, and contrast them with the small number seen in the mosques, even on Friday, the Muhammadan weekly day of worship. In the district the Hindus vastly out-number the Muhammadans.

Benares is built on the left bank of the Ganges, and extends in a crescent shape three miles and a half along the bank, and a little more than a mile inward. The most imposing view is from a boat slowly dropping down the stream in the early morning—the earlier the better, especially if it be the hot season, as then the people betake themselves to the river in greater numbers than at any other time. Travellers in many lands who have seen this view, have declared it to be one of the most remarkable sights of the kind which the world presents.

Photographic and pencil pictures of Benares have appeared in illustrated newspapers, in periodicals and books, and give a more vivid and correct impression than can be conveyed by a verbal description. These pictures can, however, be better understood when those who look at them are furnished with information which no picture can afford.

The right bank of the Ganges at Benares is very low, and is always flooded when the river rises; but the left bank, on which the city stands, is in many parts more than a hundred feet high. The river sweeps round this high bank. The city is connected with the river by flights of stone steps, called "ghats." This word ghat often meets the reader of books on India. It has various meanings. It means a mountain-pass, a ferry, a place on the riverside where people meet, and, as is the case at Benares, the steps which lead down to the river. Two small streams enter the Ganges at Benares—on the southern side the Assi, on the northern side the Burna. Some have supposed that the city has received its name from lying between these two rivulets—Burna, Assi, making the word Burunassi, Benares; but this derivation is more than doubtful. Others maintain the word comes from a famous rajah called Bunar; but this, too, is a mere conjecture.

[Sidenote: A TRIP ON THE RIVER.]

Let me take my readers with me on a trip down the river. We embark at early dawn on a native boat at Assi Sungam, which means the confluence of the Assi with the Ganges, at the southern extremity. Towards that end of the city some of the houses seen on the high bank are poor, some are falling into decay; but as you advance, lofty buildings, some of them of a size and grandeur which entitle them to the name of palaces, come into view. Their numerous small windows, their rich and varied carving, their balconies and flat roofs, give them a very Eastern look. Perhaps the most notable of the buildings are an observatory, built by a famous Rajput prince, Jae Singh, and a massy and extensive structure, with its buttresses and high walls looking as if recently erected, which was built in the last half of the eighteenth century by Cheit-Singh, the Rajah of Benares at that time, who was deposed by Warren Hastings on account of his refusal to comply with the demands of the British Government. In Macaulay's famous Essay on Warren Hastings there is a long narrative of this contest, which is amusingly at variance with the narrative given by Warren Hastings himself. This building is still called Cheit-Singh's Palace, but since his day it has been the property of the British Government, and has been for many years the residence of princes of the old imperial family of Delhi, who on account of family troubles had come to reside in Benares, and were, happily for themselves, far from Delhi during the mutiny of 1857. Some of the mansions facing the river belong to Indian princes, who occupy them on the rare occasion of visits to the city, and leave them in charge of servants, of whom a number are Brahmans performing sacred rites on their behalf.

There is one spot on the riverside from which most visitors avert their eyes with horror—the place where the dead of Benares and the surrounding country are being burnt, and the ashes thrown into the stream. The fire at that place never goes out. Cremation, not burial, it is well known, is the Indian mode of disposing of the dead.

The peculiarity of Benares as the sacred city of the country is strikingly attested by the temples, which crowd the high bank of the river, and arrest the special attention of the visitor. Some of these are much larger and more expensive than others, but there is little variety in their form; and all of them, even the largest and most frequented, are small compared with Christian and Muhammadan places of worship. They are circular, with heavy domes narrowing towards the top, and, as a rule, with a narrow doorway alone admitting light and air. Some domes are of respectable height, but none approach that of many of our church towers and steeples. Most of the temples are sacred to Shiva, Mahadeo, the Great God, as his devotees delight to call him, and are surmounted by his trident. Many have a pole at their side with a flag attached to it. One sees at a glance they must, though small, have cost large sums, as they are most solidly built of hewn stone, and have all more or less of ornamentation. A few temples are built close to the water's edge. One has got off its equilibrium, and looks as if it were about to fall into the stream; but for many years it has remained in this tottering position.

[Sidenote: BATHING IN THE SACRED STREAM.]

While the houses and temples on the riverside are viewed with interest, the visitor, as he looks from his boat, is still more interested in the living mass before him. It is the early morning. The sun has just risen above the horizon, and is shedding its bright rays on the river and the city. It looks as if all the inhabitants were astir and had made their way to the river. Crowds are seen on the steps, some even then making their way back after having bathed, and others going down to the stream. Thousands are in the water. Men and women, boys and girls, are there—the men and women at a short distance from each other. Immediately above the water are platforms with huge stationary umbrellas over them, and on these men are squatted, whose portly appearance betokens ease and plenty. These are Gungaputrs—sons of the Ganges—a class of Brahmans, whose duty it is to take care of the clothes of the people as they bathe, to put a mark on their forehead to show they have bathed, and who receive a small offering from them as they retire. All bring with them their bathing-dress, and they most deftly take off and put on their scanty clothing. When the bathing is over they wring out the clothes in which they have bathed, fill with Ganges water a small brazen vessel, which each person carries with him, and make their way into the city to pay their homage to their favourite gods before proceeding to their homes. I have been told that the very devout among them visit some thirty temples of a morning.

You watch the people as they bathe. It is evident they are not engaged in mere ablution, so important for health and comfort in that hot climate. They are engaged in worship. You see them taking up the water of the Ganges in the palm of their hands, and offering it up to the sun as they mutter certain prescribed words. You observe them making a circular motion, and if sufficiently near you see them breathing heavily, which you are told is their way of driving away demons, who even in that sacred spot are said to haunt them. There is no united worship: each worshipper apart performs his and her devotion. There is incessant movement among the crowd. As the words of worship—I might rather say the spells—they have been instructed to use are not whispered but uttered, and by many with a loud voice, a stream of sound falls on the ear. If, at some spot where bathers are not inconvenienced, the boat be moored, and the visitor ascends the steps, he may find on certain days, in two or three places, pundits reading and explaining the Ramayan, or the Mahabharut, the great Hindu Epic Poems, to a crowd of people, mainly composed of women. Sentence by sentence is read from poetical translations made long ago, which require to be re-translated into the ordinary language of the people to be generally intelligible. We have occasionally stopped to hear these pundits, and, judging by what we heard, we concluded they satisfied themselves with a loose paraphrase of what they were reading. These men are rewarded with a respectful and attentive hearing, and with something more substantial when the work is over.

If the visitor is bent on obtaining a full impression of the work continually carried on in Benares, he will make his way into the city from one of the principal bathing-places. He will speedily find himself in long narrow streets, with lofty stone houses on either side. The buildings are of hewn stone, and of the most substantial description. They have for the most part a narrow doorway, opening into a quadrangle, around which are the apartments of the inmates. The streets are so narrow that through some of them a vehicle cannot be taken, and in others conveyances pass each other with difficulty. There are parts of the narrower streets and lanes on which the sun never shines. In the few cases where houses on both sides of the street opposite each other belong to one proprietor, there is at the top a bridge by which the inmates pass from one to the other.

[Sidenote: WORSHIP IN THE TEMPLES.]

Not the houses, however, but the temples, secure the chief attention of the visitor. They are seen on every side. Numerous though they be, they are not sufficient to meet the demands of the people. At every few steps objects of worship meet your view. In niches of the walls are little images, so worn by the weather and by the water poured on them by worshippers that it is difficult to determine what they are intended to represent. At your feet, close to the walls, you see misshapen stones which are regarded as sacred. As you proceed you find yourself accompanied by a crowd who have bathed, and who are going to complete their morning worship by acts of obeisance to their gods. They are seen, as they walk, bowing their heads and folding their hands before the sacred objects that line their way. Every now and then one of a party will raise the shout "Mahadeo jee kee jae!"—("Victory to the Great God"), that is to Shiva, to whom this title is given; and the shout is taken up and repeated by others till the street resounds. It has occurred to me that this is done with peculiar force when Europeans are within hearing.

[Sidenote: THE TEMPLE OF BISHESHWAR.]

You speedily find yourself at the principal temple of Benares—the temple of Bisheshwar, sacred to Shiva under this name, which means Lord of All. This temple is in the midst of a quadrangle, covered in with a roof; over it are a tower, a dome, and a spire. The tower and dome glitter in the sun like masses of burnished gold, and on this account it is called the Golden Temple. Natives will tell you that it is covered with plates of solid gold, but in fact it is merely gilded with gold leaf, spread over plates of copper overlaying the stones beneath. Under the dome is a belfry in which nine bells are suspended, and these are so low that they can be tolled by the hand of those who frequent the temple. We are told that the temple, including the tower, is fifty-one feet in height. "Outside the enclosure is a large collection of deities, raised upon a platform, called by the natives 'The Court of Mahadeo.'" Though the gods in the Hindu books are represented as continually quarrelling with each other, and their devotees take up their quarrels, not only at the temple of Bisheshwar, but throughout the city which is regarded as Shiva's own, they are seen side by side, as in perfect amity, and there is not a single god who does not secure the special devotion of some worshippers. It is, however, required of all who dwell in Kasee, or frequent it, to acknowledge that Mahadeo is entitled to supreme homage, and that to him in the first instance obeisance must be made. The symbol of Shiva, or Mahadeo, which is found wherever he is worshipped, is the Linga, a conical stone, which does not in itself suggest any impure notion, but which is intended to be a vile representation. In this famous temple this conical stone receives special honour. There, too, are figures of Shiva himself in all his hideousness, with his three eyes, covered with ashes, and his eyes inflamed with intoxicating herbs. Outside the temple there is a figure cut in stone of a bull seven feet high, sacred to the god, as this is his favourite animal for riding. Within the quadrangle there is a well called Gyan Bapee, the well of knowledge, to which it is said the god betook himself when he was expelled from his former temple by the bigot Emperor Aurungzeb. On this account the well is deemed specially sacred. It is surmounted by a handsome low-roofed colonnade with forty pillars. It is covered with an iron grating, in which there is an aperture for small vessels to be let down into it, which when full are drawn up, and the water thus drawn is highly prized. As from day to day a large quantity of flowers are thrown into it, it may be supposed how horrible its water and how offensive its smell; it is a wonder the people are not poisoned by it.

We must not proceed further with this description of Bisheshwar's temple. Those who wish for more information can find it in the ample details given by Mr. Sherring.

To this temple thousands resort every day. It is open, and priests are present, we are told, twenty hours in the twenty-four. It is only shut from midnight till four in the morning. The temple itself holds a very small number, and the entire quadrangle would be crowded by one of our large congregations. The people press into it in one continuous stream, toll a bell to draw the attention of the god, make their obeisance, pour on the object of their worship a little of the Ganges water from the small brazen vessel they have in their hand, throw on it some flowers, give a present to the attendant priests, go round the building with their right hand towards it, and pass away to give place to others.

How does the visitor regard this scene? Apart from the consideration of the dishonour done to the ever-blessed God by worship rendered to images representing gods that are no gods—by which, if a Christian, he must be painfully affected—there is much in the scene before him to impress him with the sottish folly into which man can sink in his religious views and practices; and there is nothing to draw forth his regard and sympathy, except it be the fervour, the deep though mistaken fervour, of some of the worshippers, especially of the women, who may sometimes be seen with children in their arms teaching them to make obeisance to the idol. In Roman Catholic worship there is much which, as Protestants ruled by the Bible, we rightly condemn; but in the gorgeous vestments of its priests, in the magnificence of many of the places in which they minister, in the grand strains of their music and in their processions, there is much to impress the senses and awe the mind; but in the worship carried on in the temple of Bisheshwar it is difficult to find a redeeming quality. The whole scene is repulsive. The place is sloppy with the water poured out by the worshippers, and is littered by the flowers they present. The ear is assailed with harsh sounds. The ministering priests—Pundas as they are called—are, as a rule, coarse-looking men, with shaven head, save with a long pendent tuft from the crown, with the mark of their god on their forehead, and are very scantily attired. They clamour for a present when a European appears, and if given it is declared to be an offering to the god of the place. Among the crowd you see men with matted hair and body bedaubed with ashes, who have broken away from all domestic and social duties, and devote themselves to what is called a religious life. Some of these ascetics are no doubt impelled to follow the life they lead by a superstitious feeling, but many are idle vagabonds ready for the practice of every villainy, who find it more pleasant to roam about the land and live on others than support themselves by honest labour. The people dread their curse, but many give them neither respect nor love. At a place like Bisheshwar's temple there is always a host of ordinary beggars, who clamour for alms, and receive from some two or three shells, called cowries, sixty of which go to make up a halfpenny, from others a little grain, and from the more liberal or more wealthy a small coin.

[Sidenote: THE MOSQUE OF AURUNGZEB.]

From this stirring scene you have only a few steps to go to find yourself in the large mosque built by the Emperor Aurungzeb on the site of the old temple of Bisheshwar, which was thrown down to give place to it. The contrast is very striking. You have left the bustling, noisy crowd, and see only a few individuals in the attitude of devotion—now standing with folded hands, then on their knees, then with forehead touching the floor, engaged in supplicating the Invisible One. Instead of grotesque and repulsive images meeting your view, you see very little ornament of any kind, and are impressed with the severe simplicity of the lofty building. The more one knows of Muhammadanism, the more grievous are its defects and errors seen to be; but in the simplicity of its mosques, which has nothing in common with the sordid barn-like bareness too characteristic at one time of many places of worship in our own land, there is much from which Christians might learn a useful lesson.

Within a stone's throw of Bisheshwar's temple there is a host of temples, none of them very large, some of them small, but most covered with carving, to some extent for mere ornamentation, but chiefly for the purpose of illustrating the objects of Hindu worship. If you visit them you will see everything is accordant with the great shrine you have left. You will see Shiva, sometimes seated on a bull, sometimes on a dog; his hideous partner Durga, with her eight arms and her ferocious look, indicating her delight in blood; Hanuman, the monkey-god, with his huge tail; Krishna engaged in his gambols; Ganesh, the god of wisdom, with his elephant head and protuberant belly; and many others beside. Everything you see is wild, grotesque, unnatural, forbidding, utterly wanting in verisimilitude and refinement, with nothing to purify and raise the people, with everything fitted to pervert their taste and lower their character; and yet, I must add, with everything to give a faithful representation of the mythology prepared by their religious leaders. The pundits who wrote the sacred books of the Hindus were men of great talent, of abundant leisure; and it is a marvel to me, of which I can give no explanation, how they spent their days in spinning the wildest legends, and in setting forth their gods as performing the most fantastic, capricious, foolish, and wicked deeds, when they had a clear canvas before them, and might have filled it with something worthy of our nature, and worthy of objects to be worshipped.

Aurungzeb's mosque has two lofty minarets, rising about a hundred and fifty feet above its floor, and thus having from the river an elevation of two hundred and fifty feet. From a boat on the river the visitor has the nearest and most impressive view of the city, with its peculiarities as the high place of Hindu worship. If he proceed to the top of one of the minarets, which is reached by a steep, dark spiral stair, he will have a most commanding and extensive view of the city, the river, and the country for many miles around. He will see that while the streets in the centre of the city are long and narrow, and have very lofty houses, beyond these the roads widen, and many of the houses are poor and mean. As his eye falls on the part beyond the most crowded portion, he will observe here and there fine mansions with gardens around them, evidently belonging to the wealthy portion of the community, but surrounded by poor streets.

[Sidenote: RETURN TO THE EUROPEAN STATION.]

After seeing what I have endeavoured to describe, the traveller is well pleased to get back to his boat, and to drop down the river to Raj Ghat, the northern end of the city, where, after his fatigue, he is happy to find a conveyance to convey him to the European station more than three miles distant.

During my residence in Benares I often made this trip from Assi-Sungam to Raj Ghat, generally in company with strangers. The last time I made it I was accompanied by the late Dr. Norman McLeod of Glasgow, and the late Dr. Watson of Dundee. They were greatly interested in what they saw, and repeatedly said the reality exceeded their expectation. Dr. McLeod was specially eager to see everything that could be seen, and in his own strong genial way expressed the feelings excited by the strange scenes before him.

I must press into the concluding part of this chapter, as concisely as I can, some additional facts which call for special notice.

The city as it now stands is quite modern. Though foundations dug up, and pieces of masonry seen in existing buildings, testify to its antiquity, we are told by those who are best qualified to judge that there is not a single house or temple the erection of which can be relegated to a more remote period than the reign of Akbar, who was a contemporary of our Queen Elizabeth.

Various estimates have been given of the number of temples. According to the census of 1872 the number is 1,454. This does not include smaller shrines in niches in the walls, which may be reckoned by thousands. The temples are constantly increasing in number; at no previous period were there so many as at present. Traders and bankers have prospered greatly under our rule, and, if devout Hindus, they deem themselves bound to devote a part of their wealth to the erection of a temple. A regard to their honour as well as to their gods prompts them to this spending of their money.

So far as I have been able to ascertain, the temples of Benares have very little of either funded or landed property. The vast sum required for the support of the priesthood comes mainly from the offerings of the people.

The "Imperial Gazetteer" of India gives no account in its last census of the castes of Benares, but we are sure that many thousands of the inhabitants are Brahmans. They are greatly subdivided, and are so different in rank and occupation that they keep as separate from each other as if they had no caste in common. The Pundas officiate in the temples; the Gangaputrs, the sons of the Ganges, minister at the waterside; the Purohits are the family priests; and the Pundits, the most esteemed of all, are the learned men who study the Shastres, and expound them to the people as occasion requires. Hindus generally have their Gurus, religious guides, who perform to them very much the work done for Roman Catholics by father confessors. These may be family priests, learned men; or, in the case of the lower castes, the lower orders of Brahmans. A vast number of the sacred caste have nothing to do with religious services. They are engaged in various businesses. A considerable number are cooks in the houses of the wealthy, as from their hand all can eat, while they in many cases would consider it an intolerable insult to be asked to eat with their masters. Not a few are beggars.

There are places in Benares to which people resort almost as much as to the temple of Bisheshwar. Among these I may mention the tank of Pishachmochan, a word meaning deliverance from demons, as bathing in it is considered very efficacious in securing this end, and the temple and tank of Durga at a place called Durgakund. At this latter place there are many hundreds of monkeys—some say thousands, though this is doubtless an exaggeration—which scamper about in all directions, and fare well at the hands of Durga's worshippers. These animals are deemed gods and goddesses, and woe to the person who does them any harm.

The monkeys are not the only animals deemed sacred at Benares. All who have heard anything about the city have heard about the well-fed lazy bulls prowling about the streets, and insisting on making free with the goods of the vegetable and grain sellers. These are no longer to be seen going about in their former fashion. I shall have something to say afterwards about them.

[Sidenote: FESTIVALS AT BENARES.]

Mr. Sherring gives an account of forty melas, or religious festivals, in the course of the year in Benares. The principal of these are the Holee, the Saturnalia of the Hindus, the Ram Leela (the dramatic representation of the life of Ram as given in the epic poem, "The Ramayan"), and the Pilgrimage of the Panch Kosee, when the people make the circuit of the city, and halt for the night at certain assigned stations. On the occasion of eclipses vast numbers resort to Benares from all parts of India.

Benares has long been considered the Oxford of India. Its learned men have from ancient times been famed for their learning, and the aspirants for Hindu lore—all members of the same caste with themselves—have from generation to generation sat at their feet. They have had no grand academic halls in which to give their prelections; they have taken no fees from their pupils; they have met in very humble rooms, or in the open air in a garden under trees; but both teachers and students have been characterized by an assiduity and a perseverance which the most laborious of German scholars rarely attain. The very modest requirements of these learned men have as a rule been met unasked by the princes and wealthy of the land.

In 1791, a very short time after Benares was brought directly under British rule, a Sanscrit college was founded by the payment of certain pundits, who were left to carry on their work unchecked by any authority, or even suggestion, from without. It is said that pundits of the highest repute refused to have anything to do with the foreigner. In 1853 a very fine Gothic structure, said to be the most imposing building erected by the British in India, was opened under the name of the Queen's College, for the accommodation of students in both Western and Eastern learning. Here both English and Sanscrit are studied, and under the first Principal, the late Dr. Ballantyne, vigorous, and I hope to some degree successful, effort was put forth to infuse Western literature, philosophy, and science into the pundit mind.

I have mentioned the number of Muhammadans residing at Benares. It is officially stated they have 272 mosques, of which that of Aurungzeb, with its lofty minarets, is the largest. Hindus must have looked with horror on the sacrilegious deed by which this mosque was erected on the site of the demolished temple of Bisheshwar; but the power of the bigot emperor was so great that they could do nothing more than invocate curses on his head. The close neighbourhood of this mosque to the most frequented temple, and the remembrance of the building which formerly occupied its site, have produced a bitter feeling towards the followers of Muhammad. Early in this century there was a furious contest between the two classes of religionists, which lasted for some days, and was at last quelled by the military. During the fight every conceivable insult was offered to each other's feelings, and lives were lost. The Muhammadans suffered most, and since that time they seem to have been cowed, so that there has been much less fighting between them and their Hindu neighbours than in some other cities in the North-West.

The city has two great squares, occupied as market-places, in which goods of every description are exhibited and sold in the Eastern fashion. They present a stirring scene of an afternoon, which is the principal time of business.

[Sidenote: CENSUS RETURNS.]

In the census of 1872 the occupations of all males above fifteen years of age are noted. I give some of the items—

Alms-takers 184 Beggars 3,490 Barbers 979 Pundits 96 Priests (temple or ghat) 2,809 Purohits (family priests) 1,273 Servants 14,309

I suppose the distinction between alms-takers and beggars is that the former class deem it beneath them to ask, but have no objection to take alms, while the latter class both ask and take. Among the latter, beside the blind and helpless, many able-bodied men make beggary their profession. On one occasion, in the neighbourhood of Benares, I met a man in the prime of life who said he had just returned from a long journey. On referring to his business he frankly said that he had never had any other occupation than that of a beggar. This was his hereditary profession. We have no Poor Law in India. The people, from varied motives, are ever ready to give aid to those who cannot support themselves, and in addition exercise an indiscriminate charity, which has a demoralizing effect.

The census informs us there are in Benares 16,023 masonry houses, and 21,551 mud houses—that is, houses many of which are of mud moistened and dried as the walls rise—and others of sun-dried bricks. I do not wonder at the disappointment felt by some who have been much impressed with the front view of the city, and have then traversed its streets.

Till recently, from the commencement of our rule, our Government has never been at peace with all the native rulers of India. In various ways we have come into collision with them, and the final result in every case has been their overthrow. The deposed rajahs have as a rule been sent to Benares, as if our Government wished to compensate them for the loss of their dominion by conferring on them special religious advantages.

On the opposite side of the Ganges, a little above the southern end of the city, is the town of Ramnuggur, with a population of 10,000. It is the residence of the Rajah of Benares, who is simply a large landowner, and has no authority beyond that which wealth confers. His palace, or rather fort, is close to the river. Behind the town, close to the Rajah's garden, there is a large tank, and a temple facing it which is remarkable for the exquisite carving on its walls illustrative of Hindu mythology.

[Sidenote: MACAULEY'S DESCRIPTION OF BENARES.]

I end this account of Benares by an extract from Macaulay's Essay on Warren Hastings, in which, in his own high rhetorical fashion, which so readily yields itself to exaggeration, he describes the city. If I remember rightly, there is no mention in his biography of his having visited the North-West, and his description is therefore not that of an eye-witness.

"The first design of Warren Hastings was on Benares, a city which in wealth, population, dignity, and sanctity was among the foremost in Asia. It was commonly believed that half a million of human beings was crowded into that labyrinth of lofty alleys, rich with shrines, and minarets, and balconies, and carved oriels, to which the sacred apes clung by hundreds. The traveller could scarcely make his way through the press of holy mendicants and not less holy bulls. The broad and stately flights of steps which descended from these swarming haunts to the bathing places along the Ganges were worn every day by the footsteps of an innumerable multitude of worshippers. The schools and temples drew crowds of pious Hindus from every province where the Brahmanical faith was known. Hundreds of devotees came thither every month to die, for it was believed that a peculiarly happy fate awaited the man who should pass from the sacred city into the sacred river. Nor was superstition the only motive which allured strangers to that great metropolis. Commerce had as many pilgrims as religion. All along the shores of the venerable stream lay great fleets of vessels laden with rich merchandise. From the looms of Benares went forth the most delicate silks that adorned the balls of St. James's and of Versailles; and in the bazars the muslins of Bengal and the sabres of Oude were mingled with the jewels of Golconda and the shawls of Cashmere."



CHAPTER VIII.

BENARES AS A MISSION SPHERE.

Hinduism, like all other religions, has its points of contact, we may say of agreement, with Christianity; but in its main features and tendencies it is intensely antagonistic, and this antagonism may be conceived to have its keenest edge and greatest force in the city from which it has for ages maintained its sway over the millions of India. If any religion could be considered entrenched by local advantages beyond the possibility of overthrow, Hinduism might be declared secure at Benares, if not against assault, at least against defeat.

People in all ages, all the world over, cling with varying degrees of tenacity to the views and practices which have come to them from their fathers. Jeremiah said, "Pass over the isles of Chittim, and see; and send unto Kedar, and consider diligently, and see if there be such a thing. Hath a nation changed their gods, which are yet no gods?" Hinduism in its present form is comparatively modern; but the people generally know nothing of its history, and they regard it as an inheritance from the most ancient times. It comes to them as the gifts of gods and sages, which it would be sacrilege to reject. There is much in the religion itself to bind the people to it. Its numerous ceremonies, sustained by the largest promises, give the assurance of a great reward. In discharging their religious duties they have often to endure toil, undergo privation, and make sacrifices; but the more they do and suffer, the greater is the complacency with which they regard their religious position. There is one thing Hinduism does not demand of its devotees. It does not demand a radical change of character or of life. Its every requirement may be met without abandoning evil dispositions and practices. It can be easily supposed how strong a hold a religion like this has on its votaries, and how especially strong its hold must be in the city where it has been enthroned for ages.

In our day much is said about heredity. Facts illustrative of its power over the features, character, and life, not only of individuals but of communities, are patent to all. Whatever heredity can do it does in infusing the spirit of Hinduism into the very blood of the people of Benares, who have been so long dominated by it. The mastery it has obtained over them is shown by the whole tone of their minds and the whole bearing of their life. If sincerity and enthusiasm be the essential requisites in religion, the inhabitants of this city have all they need, for these qualities are possessed by them in a high degree. Then, in such a city there is felt the almost overpowering influence of thousands from day to day, and of vast multitudes on occasion of high festival, performing the same rites, worshipping the same gods, and animated by the same spirit. The peculiar thrill of pleasure given by a great assembled eager host to every individual composing it; the sense of importance it gives to each, as if on him rested the concentrated honour of the gathering, does much to bind people to a religion which receives such services from millions. If for a single year these daily services and periodical gatherings were intermitted, Hinduism would be greatly weakened.

[Sidenote: SECULAR AND SACRED INFLUENCES.]

In addition to the domestic, social, and public influences which guard and uphold the existing state of things, there is the tremendous power of personal gain and honour. The honour, the wealth, the very subsistence of large influential classes, are bound up with the maintenance of idolatry. The Pundits, the guardians and expositors of their sacred books; the Pundas who minister in the temples; the Gungaputrs who serve at the river side; the Purohits, the family priests; the Gurus, the father confessors and guides of the people; and the Jyotishees, the astrologers, with their families and relations, would be stripped of their honour and gain, of their very means of living, if Hinduism was at once abandoned. Benares is a great commercial as well as religious city. If it ceased to be Hindu, we cannot suppose its commerce would be paralyzed; but as a considerable part of its ordinary trade is dependent on the thousands of pilgrims who resort to it, on the money they expend on food, on gifts to the priests, and on the purchase of articles exposed for sale, great loss would be in the first place incurred. The many artisans now employed in making images of stone and brass, would find no purchasers for their goods. In addition to the pecuniary loss which directly and indirectly would fall on all classes, the whole community would feel the glory of Kasee, the Splendid City, had departed, when, stripped of its sacredness, crowds of pilgrims no longer filled its streets, frequented its temples, or bathed at its ghats. They would feel as the Jews did in their dark and disastrous days, when the ways to Zion were untrodden, and there was the silence of desolation within its gates.

When the peculiarities of Benares are in any degree realized, the work of making known the gospel to its inhabitants may appear formidable to the extent of hopelessness.

It is formidable, very formidable, but it can appear hopeless only when we forget the command of our Saviour to preach the Gospel to every creature, when we forget the power of the truth, the adaptation of the Gospel to the human heart, its past triumphs, and the promised aid of the Holy Spirit. The very strength of this fortress of idolatry should call forth the courage of Christ's soldiers by directing their eyes to Him as their great and glorious Leader. Such was the courage of the Apostles and their immediate successors, when instead of going to small towns and villages, and working from them towards the cities where the Gospel might be expected to meet with the most determined opposition, they assailed at once with their spiritual weapons the high places of idolatry, of power which claimed worship as well as homage, and of learning which aimed in its own strength, and aimed unsuccessfully, at the solution of the deepest questions which affect mankind. They went to Ephesus, to Rome, and to Athens, and secured in them a measure of success, which prepared the way for a mighty revolution throughout the Roman Empire.

Towards the end of the last century, when there was a great awakening of the missionary spirit, devoted Christians, animated by apostolic example, formed the purpose of going with the Gospel to Benares. Robert Haldane sold a fine estate, that with a band of chosen companions he might preach the Gospel to its inhabitants. He was obliged to abandon the enterprise by the prohibition of the East India Company; and then, in company with his brother and others similarly minded, he turned to home mission work, which for a time was prosecuted by them with ardent zeal and great success.

[Sidenote: HINDUISM AND CHRISTIANITY.]

In 1781 the city and district of Benares, which had for some time paid tribute to our Government, were brought directly under our rule. We are sure no Christian missionary would have been previously tolerated in Benares for a day. He could not speak of Jesus Christ as the Lord of all and the Saviour of the world without implying that Mahadeo and the other gods of Benares were no God. His teaching would be speedily discerned in its antagonism to the genius of the place, and would ensure his speedy expulsion, if not his death. To the present hour no missionary is allowed to plant his foot in Mecca, or Medina, the sacred cities of the Muhammadans. Till a very recent period, when the Pope's political power came to an end, no Protestant minister was allowed to open his mouth in proclaiming the Gospel in Rome. The mild Hindu can be as fanatical as the Muhammadan and the Roman Catholic in resenting an attack on his religion, and in persecuting its opponents.

We have no historical records from which we can learn how Buddhism was overthrown in India; but, as we have already observed, we have reason to conclude it was not overthrown by argument and persuasion, but by fire and sword. The intense hatred shown to the Gospel by those who are imbued by the spirit of Hinduism will not allow us to doubt that, if they had the power, they would forbid all Christian effort, and especially such effort in their sacred city. They were long under the rule of the Muhammadans, and were subjected by them to grievous indignities, which they were helpless to avert or resent; but their attachment to Hinduism, instead of being diminished, was inflamed by the treatment they received, and during the semi-independent position they held previous to coming under our sway they had both the power and the will effectually to prevent the entrance of a new antagonistic religion. The superior strength and daring of the English were so signally shown in the overthrow of Rajah Cheit-Singh by Warren Hastings, that opposition to the new regime was seen to be hopeless, and the people quietly submitted to their new rulers. So far as they knew the temper and policy of the English, they might conclude their religion would at their hands not only be safe from violence, but protected from every attempt at proselytism. The policy which would have left Hinduism undisturbed was successfully opposed by the Christian feeling of England, and the way was opened for the Christian missionary into the very fortress of Hindu idolatry. For this entrance we are not in any way indebted to the mildness of Hindu religionists, but to the resolute, persevering, courageous effort of men of God, who contended successfully against the worldly selfishness which would have doomed the millions of India to perpetual night.

[Sidenote: STREET PREACHING.]

We have observed that mission operations were tentatively begun in Benares in the second decade of this century. The work was carried on in a very quiet unostentatious manner. Some time elapsed before any open aggressive effort was put forth. If Bishop Heber's counsel had been followed there would have been no departure from the first timid mode of action. He says in his journal, "The custom of street preaching, of which the Baptist and other Dissenting missionaries in Bengal are very fond, has never been resorted to by those employed by the Church Missionary Society, and never shall be so long as I have any influence or authority over them. I plainly see it is not necessary, and I see no less plainly that though it may be safe among the timid Bengalees, it would be very likely to produce mischief here. All which the missionaries do is to teach schools, read prayers, and preach in their churches, and to visit the houses of such persons as wish for information on religious subjects." If the good man had lived a few years longer he would have seen ministers of his own Church forward in modes of action which he disapproved, and would doubtless have wished them God-speed, as his successors in the diocese of Calcutta have done. The Bishop of Lahore, Dr. French, took a prominent part for years in outdoor preaching.

The missionary has of course met with opposition in many forms; the opposition has often been keen and bitter, but it has not taken the form of violence to person or injury to property. The Gospel has been for many years proclaimed in the most public places in Benares, crowds have heard it, and no hand has been raised against the preacher. In the memoirs of the Rev. William Smith, of the Church Mission, who was indefatigable in evangelistic labour, than whom none was better known in Benares, it is mentioned that on a few occasions mud was thrown at him, but it did him no harm. On one occasion, after a very keen discussion, when my Hindu opponents had been extremely angry, on coming out from the place a native Christian by my side was struck on the head by a stone, which was evidently intended for me. Happily the young man speedily recovered from the blow. The night was dark, and the act was not brought home to any one. The people present expressed indignation at the deed. On another occasion a man drew his sword half-way out of the scabbard (it was the fashion of the time to go about armed), and said he would gladly cut off my head, because I was trying to turn away his people from their religion; but he knew if he did he would be hanged, and as he wished to live a little longer he restrained himself. He gave me a scowl, which showed how ready he was for the crime if he could commit it with impunity. On another occasion most vigorous drumming was carried on above our heads, which made speaking and hearing impossible. As after many years spent in Benares I cannot recollect any more violent acts than those I have mentioned, the reader may infer how little reason we have to complain of danger to life or limb.

[Sidenote: POSITION OF THE MISSIONARY IN BENARES.]

Nothing approaching the treatment of Dr. Kalley by the Popish priests of Madeira has been ever experienced by any missionary in Benares at the hand of Hindu priests. The perfect security, with which in ordinary times we went about our work, is in marked contrast to the experience of many a labourer in the home mission-field, not only in the early days of Methodism, but down to our own time, to say nothing of the violence to which the Salvation Army has been exposed. The fact that we belong to the ruling race, and that it is understood by all an attack on us will be promptly and severely punished, has had, no doubt, much to do in enabling us to carry on our operations so quietly and safely. There has been an ebullition at times on the occasion of baptisms, but it has soon subsided. Gradually the people have come to understand us sufficiently to be convinced we are bent on promoting their good, and they regard us in consequence with a friendly feeling. Most pleasant proof has been given that many of the inhabitants of Benares have come to look on missionaries not only with respect but affection. I well remember gratifying acts of courtesy and kindness, which could not have been prompted by sinister motives.

I must not omit to say that while missionaries have carried on their work openly and boldly, they have felt themselves bound to treat the people courteously, and to abstain from the use of violent and abusive words. There are places where they do not deem themselves entitled to declare their message—such as sacred places where worship is being carried on. Mr. Smith, of the Church Mission, once mentioned to me that he had for a short time taken his stand close to one of the bathing places, but the priests and people were greatly excited by his presence, and he deemed it proper to retire.

While at Benares the Gospel has to encounter peculiar opposition, it has some marked advantages as a mission-field. The missionary, as he moves about, meets with people from all parts of India. While these speak different languages, many know enough of the languages spoken at Benares to admit of a measure of intelligent intercourse with them. Vast multitudes come from the widely extended region over which the Hindustanee and Hindee prevail. While many go to Benares, we may suppose the great majority, urged by the gregarious feeling so powerful all the world over, happy to find themselves among the multitude, hoping to get some religious benefit, and sure at any rate, as they acknowledge, of amusement, we cannot doubt there are among them earnest souls—how many it is impossible to say—who are ill at ease, and have a craving for rest and satisfaction. These persons are in the state of mind to which the Gospel is specially adapted, and it is very desirous for the missionary to come into contact with them. Missionaries have fallen in with persons of this class, and among them there have been pleasing instances of conversion. There are individuals now in distant parts of India living Christian lives, who were led to embrace Christ as their Saviour by what they heard at Benares. Many Christian books have been circulated among pilgrims to the sacred city. These are taken to their homes, we may hope sooner or later to be read by them to their spiritual benefit. Again and again bread cast on the waters has been found after many days.

The greed of the Pundas and Gungaputrs of Benares is notorious. Many a poor pilgrim has suffered from their exactions, and we may suppose that reverence for the sacred city has received a shock under such treatment similar to that which Luther experienced on his visit to Rome. While Hinduism is no doubt greatly strengthened by the resort of the people to Benares, much done and endured there is well fitted to alienate the more thoughtful of the visitors; and so far as they are alienated from the prevailing superstition, the more likely they are to listen patiently and candidly to the Christian preacher.

[Sidenote: PROSPECT OF SUCCESS.]

I conclude these remarks on Benares as a mission sphere by observing that marked success there would have a marvellous effect on the evangelization of India. The news would soon spread that Hinduism was drying up at its fountain, and that its power could not be much longer maintained. We know that Hinduism itself has undergone great, we may say radical, changes, since Kasee became one of its principal seats, if not its head-quarters. There Buddhism was first preached, and from it Buddhism went forth to all Eastern Asia. There it was for a time predominant, but Hinduism again obtained supremacy, and drove its rival from the field. For centuries, Hinduism under the form of devotion to Shiva Mahadeo, the Great God, as they delight to call him, has had full sway. Is his dominion to last for ever? Are the people to be for ever in the slough of idolatry and superstition? We cannot believe that they are, until we abandon all trust in Him who rightly claims all human hearts, and whose grace is sufficient to enforce these claims. We know not when, we know not how, but we do know that even in Benares, as all the world over, our blessed Saviour will take to Himself His great power and reign. Even now entrance has been gained for the truth of God, hearts have been won by it, and Christian churches have been formed. The first-fruits have been gathered, and the harvest will come. Are we allowing imagination to take the reins at the expense of judgment, when we indulge the hope, that as in former days Buddhist preachers went forth from Benares to the millions of Eastern Asia with the lessons of Gautama, the Brahmans of Benares, accepting Jesus as their Saviour, will go forth with His Gospel to diffuse it far and wide among the nations of India, and then, with their converts, make their way to the remotest East? Let us not say, "If the Lord would make windows in heaven, might this thing be?" but rather, "Who hath despised the day of small things?" The Messiah "shall build the temple, and He shall bear the glory."



CHAPTER IX.

MY SECOND YEAR IN BENARES.

In beginning this chapter it is fitting I should mention that shortly after entering on my second year an event occurred of transcendent importance to me, which has contributed to my personal comfort and missionary usefulness as nothing else could have done—my marriage with the object of my choice, who has been, through God's great goodness, spared to me through all the intervening years.

Before the close of my first year I had a striking illustration of the vicissitudes of Indian life, and of consequent difficulty in prosecuting the missionary enterprise. On reaching Benares at the end of March, 1839, I found three missionaries of our society, Messrs. Buyers, Shurman, and Lyon. Within a month of my arrival we were joined by a German missionary and his wife, Dr. and Mrs. Sommers. Towards the end of autumn Mr. and Mrs. Lyon left, owing to the failure of Mrs. Lyon's health. They were followed three months afterwards by Dr. and Mrs. Sommers, owing to Mrs. Sommers' illness. My second year was advanced only a few months, when Mr. and Mrs. Buyers, after a residence of nearly ten years, departed for Europe. Dr. Sommers had remained too short a time to render any service. Mr. Lyon had made excellent progress in the language, and promised to be a very efficient missionary; but, to our great regret, he was obliged to leave. Mr. Buyers was in his prime, and was well equipped for service. Thus within eighteen months the staff of the mission was reduced from five to two, and one of these too young and inexperienced to do anything more than help his senior brother. In June, 1841, we were joined by the Rev. D. G. Watt, and early in 1842 by the Rev. J. H. Budden. These much-esteemed brethren still survive, and have done excellent service in the cause of Christ; but both suffered much from the climate, and their stay at Benares was too short to admit of their doing there what their hearts were bent on doing.

[Sidenote: THE FAILURE OF HEALTH.]

I have not the means of comparing our Indian missions with missions in other parts of the world, but I believe our losses by the failure of health have greatly exceeded theirs. The climate of the South Sea Islands, of South Africa, and of the West Indian Islands, is far more favourable to European health than that of the parts of India in which most of our missions are. The longevity of many of the South African missionaries bears remarkable testimony to the salubrity of their climate.

This failure of health and consequent abandonment of the work is one of the greatest trials missions in India have had to encounter, and is a formidable obstacle to success. Instances have not been rare when, after great expense has been incurred, the missionary or his wife has suddenly broken down—the wife perhaps more frequently than the husband—and a speedy return to England has been the result. The name appears in the Report as an agent, but no work has been, or could have been, accomplished. In other cases the stay has been too brief to have admitted of efficient service. A considerable time must elapse before the missionary, however zealous and able, can acquire such an acquaintance with the language and people as will enable him to do his work in a satisfactory manner. When one has fully entered on the work, there is frequent interruption from illness and weakness induced by the severity of the climate. When I transfer myself in thought to my first two years in Benares, and from my vivid remembrance of the vicissitudes of our mission during these years look down through all the succeeding years not only of our mission, but of other missions in Northern India with which I am well acquainted, I am painfully struck with the bitter disappointments of missionary Societies in the prosecution of their work. They have responded to the urgent appeal for reinforcement, and in not a few cases no sooner has the reinforcement been gained than it has been lost. The Societies formed of late years for Zenana work have suffered from this cause more than even the older Societies. They have suffered in a degree which must have been very discouraging to their managers and supporters. Happily a considerable number of all Societies have been able to remain at their post, and some have remained so long as to give an average length of missionary service, which hides the fact of the extreme brevity of the period spent by many in the foreign field.

The question here suggests itself, Has this speedy abandonment of the work been always necessary? Has there been the endurance demanded of those who have professed themselves consecrated to a missionary life? Has the return to England been accepted only when the compulsion of circumstances left no alternative, and then accepted most reluctantly? With every desire to think of others as favourably as possible, without any breach of charity, it must be acknowledged there have been cases of departure, where I think a more resolute spirit would have kept persons at their post. This I trust holds true of only a few. I know some who soon left to whom the abandonment of the work was a bitter trial. Nothing but the thought that to remain would have been to fight against Providence took them away. To go back to the cases of failure during my early period at Benares, I may mention that the departure of Mr. and Mrs. Lyon was absolutely necessary; and those who know the subsequent career of my friends, Messrs. Watt and Budden, need not be told that if health had permitted Benares would have been for many years the sphere of their labours.

[Sidenote: CELIBATE OR MARRIED MISSIONARIES?]

As the withdrawal of missionaries has often been caused by the failure of the health of their wives, some have thought it would be well to have celibate missionaries in a country which has so severe a climate. To this there is the obvious reply that missionaries, like others, are human beings, and a restriction on them which wars with human nature would be found very pernicious, as it has ever been. Then, the wives of missionaries, when they are what they ought to be, are very efficient and, indeed, necessary missionary workers, and in many cases their labours are as useful as those of their husbands. In well-ordered missionary families the people see what a happy Christian home is, and they are assured of a sympathy in their trials and cares which they could not expect from unmarried missionaries. Some Societies, our own among the number, have accepted as missionaries to India persons engaged to be married, but they have required them to remain for a year or two unmarried after going out to test their fitness for the climate; and, in the event of the test being successfully stood, to give them an experience which will enable the newly married wife to enter with less strain on her Indian life. This may be a wise arrangement, and yet there is often a restlessness till the marriage takes place, and time spent in going to the port of debarkation, which carries with it some disadvantages.

We dare not retreat from this great work of evangelizing India on account of the vicissitudes of which I have been speaking, or on account of other very formidable obstacles which oppose us. To do so would be to act a craven part. Agents must be found for the prosecution of the work, and we must hope with the improved advantages of an Indian career the failures will be fewer than in the past; but whatever they may be, the Christian Church must go forward. One obvious inference from the facts I have stated, is the extreme desirableness of a native agency. The natives of the land, when found fit for the work, have always been highly prized. Many of this class are now labouring in different parts of India, and there is every reason to hope that in coming years the native agency will grow largely in extent and efficiency.

[Sidenote: IMPRESSION OF THE SECOND YEAR.]

During my second year in Benares I entered on every department of mission work, and had many opportunities for intercourse with the people. In my turn I preached to the native Christian congregation, went with the missionaries and catechists to the city, and engaged in teaching the boys attending our primary schools. I saw the great gatherings of the people at their religious festivals, and realized their character, and the nature of the work to which I had devoted my life, more than I had previously done. Instead of following chronological order, my object in these reminiscences will be best attained by endeavouring to present to my readers those aspects of Indian and mission life which, during my second year, made a deep impression on my mind, an impression which was deepened by subsequent experience.



CHAPTER X.

THE RELIGIOUS GATHERINGS OF THE HINDUS.

Crowds pass through the temples of Benares every day, pay obeisance, and present offerings; but on ordinary occasions there is no combined act of worship conducted by a leader, as is common in Christian assemblies. On occasions of special urgency—the failure of rain, its unseasonable fall, the fear of famine, or the dread of a great calamity coming on the community in some other form—sacrifices are offered up by priests in the presence of great multitudes, in which all present unite. These are very special and occasional services, for, as a rule, all over India persons and families act apart.

Hindus are, however, eminently social, and in their religious services full play is given to the social feeling. This is shown by their melas, or religious gatherings, which are held all over the country, and are extremely popular. Some of these melas are local, and have only a local attendance. Those to which crowds from places far and near resort are held in so-called sacred spots. Many are periodical, and are held at fixed periods of the year in honour of their gods, and in celebration of their exploits. Others, again, are held on special occasions, and of these eclipses are the most attractive.

[Sidenote: THE SATURNALIA OF THE HINDUS.]

In the course of my second year I saw a good deal of these festivals. I have a vivid and very unpleasant recollection of the Holee of that year, the Saturnalia of the Hindus, which is held at the setting in of the hot weather. It lasts for several days, during which the people act as if freed from every moral restraint. There is a general cessation of labour; the people wander about, indulge in the wildest freaks, address to women who venture out the vilest words, leap and dance as if possessed of the spirit of licence, and throw red colouring-matter on those they meet, without respect of persons; till all seen in the streets, with their besmeared faces and soiled clothes, have a most disreputable appearance. The night is rendered hideous, and sleep well-nigh impossible, by the drumming, fifing, and shouting of the revellers, kept up till break of day. During this period many think themselves at liberty to do what at another time they would deem very culpable. Not a few partake of intoxicating drink, and if native statements be true they give themselves over to the grossest licentiousness. Europeans, as a rule, except it be necessary for them to go abroad, remain quietly in their homes while the Holee lasts, and mission work is for the time well-nigh suspended. When, however, Europeans have occasion to go out they have little reason to fear insult, as even in the Holee season they are regarded, if not with respect, at least with a dread which restrains the revellers. The hurtful influence of this season of licence can be conceived. I have always observed that for some time afterwards the boys in our schools were sleepy and listless.

On the night of the Diwalee mela, held in honour of Lakshmee, the goddess of wealth, the whole city is illuminated, tiny lamps are seen everywhere, friends give presents to each other, sweetmeats and parched grain are distributed among the poor. High and low give the night to gambling. The belief is entertained that if they fail to spend the night in this manner they will in their next birth be turned into frogs, or some vile reptile.

The most popular festival of the year at Benares and over the North-Western Provinces is the Ram Leela, the Play of Ram, when the life of Ram, a very popular incarnation of Vishnu, is dramatized. This drama is acted in the open air in different parts of the city, in the presence of admiring thousands. The people see Ram and his faithful spouse Seeta forced to leave their royal home by the intrigue of his mother-in-law; they see them in the forest, where Ram leads the life of a hunter; they see Seeta carried off by Rawan, the Demon King of Lunka (Ceylon); they hear Ram's cries of bitter distress on finding his beloved Seeta gone; they see him informed that Rawan is the ravisher; they see him setting out with the divine monkey Hanuman, and his army of monkeys for the rescue; and they rejoice with him in the taking of Lunka, the destruction of Rawan, and the rescue of Seeta. The story furnishes abundant material for a drama, and the people enter with the greatest zest into the different scenes. A huge figure of Rawan is made of wood and paper; it is set on fire, and the crowds, looking on, make the air resound with their shouts. During this mela two things are united which in Hindu estimation well agree—amusement and devotion. They regard the Ram Leela as a religious service, which they are bound to render to the conqueror of Rawan, and while rendering it they are at once performing duty and receiving pleasure. They continually call such a service tumasha, show, fun, and they regard its life and sprightliness a pleasing contrast to the sombre and staid services of the Christian Church.

[Sidenote: ECLIPSE OF THE MOON.]

Before the conclusion of my second year an eclipse of the moon occurred, which drew to the city the greatest assemblage of human beings I had ever seen. The Hindus place high among their deities the sun and moon, and render to them daily worship. Between the gods and the demons there is perpetual war, and victory inclines at one time to one side, at another time to another. In Hindu mythological annals many instances are recorded of the gods having been reduced to the utmost extremity. We are told that eclipses are caused by the demons endeavouring to swallow the sun and moon; and religious services on these occasions have a double benefit—the worshipper secures a high degree of merit, of which he will reap the reward one day; and the demons are driven off from their prey by the drumming, the shouts, and the merit of the assembled people, to the great relief of the endangered gods. The most extravagant promises are held out to those who bathe in the Ganges, at any time in any part of it; but bathing on the occasion of an eclipse, and especially in so sacred a place as Benares, is meritorious in a degree which is incalculable. The Pundits, the religious leaders of the people, have, it appears, access to the council of the demons, for the exact time of the coming attack is known by them so long before hand that the people far and near are prepared for its approach. In fact, if it did not come on, if the demons withdrew from their intention, there would be great disappointment. Brahman missionaries go great distances to inform the people the eclipse is to take place, and to press on them the benefit they will receive by bathing at Benares on that occasion. On their return they are accompanied by those whom they have succeeded in persuading. Leaving the mythological for the scientific platform, we had better mention that the Hindu astronomers have for ages been able to calculate eclipses; and now they need not trouble themselves to make calculations, as European almanacks are in their hands to give the requisite information.

For a few days previous to the eclipse of which I am now to speak, the unusual number of strangers in the city made it evident some great event was about to occur. From the morning of the appointed day the people poured into the city in a constant stream. As evening came on I made my way into the city on foot, but before reaching its centre I found the streets so blocked that I despaired of getting to the riverside. I retraced my steps, and by a road skirting the city made my way to Raj Ghat at the northern end. There I remained till the eclipse commenced. Many were near, but they were few compared with the crowds pressing towards the chief bathing places. When I arrived at Raj Ghat the confused sound of a great multitude fell on my ear, but no sooner did the eclipse begin than the thousands on the river's brink and crowded on the ghats, as with one voice raised a shout so loud and prolonged, that I should think it must have been heard for miles. I was on a high bank of the river, and could see distinctly the people below rushing into the stream. I could not but think of what must be occurring where the crowd was so dense that individual motion was well-nigh impossible. It was reported next morning that three or four hundred persons had been trampled to death or drowned in the rush to the river when the eclipse began. This was afterwards declared to be an exaggerated statement, but it is certain many lives were lost, though how many was not ascertained, as a number were carried away by the stream. Special care was afterwards taken by the authorities to prevent such catastrophes. After stopping some time at Raj Ghat I returned to my home, musing on what I had seen, and longing for the time when the millions of India will seek cleansing and life, where alone they can be found.