On the occasion when I happened to be present at the house of Shet Dorabjee the front door was gently closed at twilight. The family, of whom there were no less than forty-five persons, assembled around this "hearth-lamp." My charming hostess and friend, the lady Shet Dorabjee, repaired to the secret chamber, kindled her torch at the perpetual fire, mingled its flame with her breath by lightly blowing on it, returned, and lighted the hearth-lamp. Then the family all stood up—father, mother, sisters, brothers, children, and grandchildren—no stranger being allowed to join the circle. I stood aside and quietly watched the scene. With their arms crossed upon their breasts while the mother was lighting the evening lamp, they repeated this prayer (of which I obtained the translation): "O Ahura-Mazda, thou who dwellest where the sun never shines, where the lightnings flash not, from that world, thy secret hiding-place, kindle our hearts to worship the pure Lord of Purity;" to which the whole family responded, "So be it, O Divine Illuminator."
Consecration into the Zoroastrian religion takes place in the seventh year of a child's life. First comes the strange purification by washing the child's body and face with the urine of the cow. This curious and disgusting custom is said to be handed down from the most ancient times, when this liquid was regarded as a very effective remedy against any disorder of the bodily organs. This done, a prayer is repeated, and the body is bathed again in pure water. There is a second and a third process, each called purification; the second consists of standing face to face with the fire, and praying to the Light without beginning or end; the third in repeating, with arms crossed, the Zoroastrian creed and acknowledging the truth of the Zoroastrian religion.
The child is then seated before the high priest, who puts on him a linen garment of nine seams and a woollen girdle of seventy-two threads. These are the exact number of the sacred books of the Fire-worshippers. These two are called the "garments of the pure and faithful," and the whole ceremony is concluded with a benediction of fire and prayer, the former being waved round and round over the child, and the latter being chanted.
The last and peculiar initiation takes place when the youth has attained his fourteenth year. He stands clad in pure white among the priests and his assembled relatives and friends in the Fire-temple. Here he repeats his vows; the priests warn him of certain temptations that will beset his youth and manhood, and the shame and suffering that will follow him through life if he should prove unfaithful to the higher instincts of his nature. They then invite him to drink the "homa" or "soma" juice, and to join them in practising purity in thought, word, and deed.
The "soma," or moon-plant, is a round smooth twining plant peculiar to the Aravalli Hills; it is also found in the deserts north of Delhi and in the mountain-passes of the Bolan, and it is imported into Bombay. It possesses not only medicinal, but, when allowed to ferment, slightly intoxicating, properties. It is the privilege of the Fire-priests and the most devout of the congregation to partake once a month, at the time of the new moon, of this intoxicating juice. Those who are about to partake of it generally abstain from food from sunrise till noon, which is the hour for celebrating this ceremony.
A day or two before the appearance of the new moon the stalks of this plant are bruised with the tender shoots of the acacia and with pomegranates, extracting thereby an acrid greenish juice. This is put in a strainer of goat's hair, after which it must be pressed through by the priest's fingers; this juice, mixed with barley and clarified butter, is allowed to ferment, when it forms the "soma wine." On the first morning after the new moon is seen in the heavens the Fire-priests repair to their temple, where, after certain prayers and chants, the soma-juice is drawn off in a vessel; a portion is thrown into a sacred well as a libation to the earth, a ladleful is drank by the priests, and the residue is handed round to the people who are present. The priests then join hands and wait for the stimulating properties to reach the brain, whereupon they wheel round chanting a hymn full of mystical meaning.
Strange as it may seem to us, the exhilarating property of this drink is supposed to shadow forth the presence of divine life in the soul, and this life of thought and emotion is often poetically called "wine"—"the wine that fills creation's cup."[24]
The Parsees in worshipping the sun turn their faces to the rising luminary, and, holding before them branches of certain trees, chant aloud. In our early-morning rides on Malabar Hill, as the sun made his first appearance above the horizon, the white-robed priests of Iran were always before us, crowding the summit of the hill; they could be seen with their faces turned eastward, with branches of acacia raised aloft in their hands, singing their morning hymn to the god of day.[25]
We knew personally several of the Fire-priests of Bombay. They seemed less intelligent than the ordinary Parsees, and some of them went through their religious duties mechanically and without any of that religious fervor that I had noticed in the Brahmans; but I have seen others who were both intelligent and extremely devout.