GEORGE FORSTER.
Born about 1750.—Died 1791.
It is greatly to be regretted that of the life of this able and adventurous traveller little is known, excepting that portion which was spent in acquiring his reputation. He seems to have been born about the year 1750. At the usual age he entered into the civil service of the East India Company, and was appointed to fill the office of writer at the Madras presidency. Here he gradually rose in the usual manner to offices of trust and emolument until the year 1782, when he obtained permission to visit his friends in England. Instead of adopting the usual mode of returning by sea, he formed the hazardous design of proceeding through the upper provinces of India, Afghanistân, and Persia, into the Russian empire, and thence by sea to England.
Fully aware of the difficulties and dangers of the route, he made every necessary preparation which could be effected in India, obtained bills upon merchants in various cities on his road, and, still further to ensure his safety, determined to adopt the Mohammedan character as soon as he should quit the British territories. With these views he proceeded to Calcutta in the spring of 1782, and, having remained some time at that city, set out on the 23d of May on his journey up the country. His mind was naturally full of those recent and memorable events which established the British power in India; and he visited with peculiar interest several of those fields where our countrymen had won their bloody laurels, and shattered to pieces the mighty fabric of the Mogul empire.
Having visited Burhampore, Moorshedabad, and other places celebrated in the history of India, he on the 25th of June embarked in a boat on the main branch of the Ganges. The river in this place was four miles broad, and, being agitated by a strong wind, which threw the water into short breaking waves, resembled an arm of the sea. The same evening he arrived at Rajmahal. This place, which had lately been the principal city and favourite residence of a powerful and opulent chief, was now reduced to the condition of an insignificant town, which, but for its historical importance, and the mounds of ruins interspersed among the modern buildings, would have possessed but few claims to the attention of the traveller. Forster, who, though by no means of a gloomy disposition, was rather given to moralizing upon the wrecks of ancient grandeur,—a habit which in a country like Hindostan may be easily indulged,—sauntered out in the twilight among the ruined buildings upon the banks of the river, where he found an old man employed in digging. With this remnant of the past age, who happened to be more intelligent and communicative than ordinary, he entered into conversation, and from him learned many particulars of the history of Rajmahal. This spot, he observed, which he was then cultivating, was the site of the Nobet Ghah, or music-hall, of the old palace; and that within his recollection a capacious garden had extended in front of his little enclosure, which the Ganges had now swept away.
From Rajmahal he proceeded to Monghee, and from thence to Patna, where he arrived on the 5th of July. This city, which, according to the opinion of several modern geographers, occupies the site of the ancient Palibothra, is still a spacious and populous place, enriched by its opium and saltpetre manufactories. Being here, he could not resist the desire to visit the spot on which a number of English prisoners were massacred in 1763, by order of Cassim Ali, then retreating before our army. The sanguinary command was executed by Sumroo, a German. A monument, but without any inscription, has been erected on the place.
On the 26th of July he arrived at Benares, a city which, for its wealth, costly buildings, and the number of its inhabitants, was considered the first then remaining in the possession of the Hindoos. Hither the professors of the confused and intricate, but frequently sublime, theology of Brahma had retired from all parts of Hindostan as the most holy spot on earth. Being conversant with the language necessary for the conducting of such researches, Forster devoted the time spent at Benares in endeavouring to penetrate, as far as a stranger was permitted, into the mysteries of Brahminism. This subject, after all the researches which have been made by Europeans, is still enveloped in much obscurity. It is not known whether, commencing in the grossest polytheism, the sages of Hindostan gradually elevated their minds to the knowledge of one supreme and invisible God, or, commencing with this simple and sublime truth, degenerated into polytheism and idolatry. The latter is the prevalent theory. It is thought more rational to imagine, that while in every other department of knowledge mankind proceeded from the less to the greater, and by constant exercise improved their mind, the only instrument which man possesses for measuring the universe, their progress in theology, if I may so express myself, has in general been retrograde, at least in Hindostan. Forster was of this opinion. “There is reason,” he says, “to believe, that in the more early periods of time, before the priests of the Hindoos had found it expedient, for the firmer establishment of their sway over the minds of the people, to raise a huge superstructure of emblematical worship, the temples erected to the Supreme Being were plain and void of personification. The remains of one of these are now to be seen on the summit of a hill near the city of Kashmere, which, according to tradition, had been dedicated to the Creator of the world. In this the prayers of those who entered were addressed to the Deity, without supplicating the intercession of any intermediate agent, nor had any image or symbol of the Divine Power a place.” He was likewise informed that at Chillambram, about twenty miles southward of Cuddalore, there was another Hindoo religious edifice, plain, and without any interior figure, which was devoted to the worship of the “Invisible God,” and was never approached but with tokens of profound awe and reverence.
The foundation upon which this theory, which is totally at variance with the history of human nature, has been erected, it is not difficult to discover. In the most remote and barbarous ages of the world, as in all other times, some few men of superior intellect and genius arose, to whom profound meditation and an ardent desire of truth revealed the unity of the Divine nature. These men, perhaps, uniting eloquence with the enthusiasm of virtue, became the nucleus of a small sect of pure worshippers, erected temples to the true God, and laboured to transmit the light of truth to posterity. But these could never have been more in those times than feeble points of light in the thick moral darkness which brooded over the globe; and although their temples and the tradition of their creed may in some instances have been preserved, it would be an abuse of common sense to infer from their enlightenment a general diffusion of knowledge in their times, in opposition to innumerable monuments attesting their extreme ignorance and debasement.
It is not my intention, however, to follow Mr. Forster in his inquiries, which are curious and liberal, into the mythology and philosophy of the Hindoos. The subject has been discussed by others, whose advantages and acquirements I am very far from possessing; and although I am not on all occasions satisfied with the explanations of Sir William Jones or Mr. Colebrook, I should, even with the aid of our ingenious traveller, despair of carrying light into the works which they have left in obscurity.
Having spent three months in conversing with the Brahmins, and endeavouring to see his way through the obscure mazes of their religious system, Forster set out on the 3d of November on an excursion to Bijjighur, a place rendered famous, he observes, in the Bengal annals, from a large amount of plunder acquired there by the English. His first day’s journey brought him to Luttufghur, about eighteen miles south of Benares. The fort, situated in the centre of a circular range of hills, and approached on all sides through a dense and lofty forest, was now deserted, and the passages leading to it were nearly choked up with trees. The circulation of the air being greatly impeded by the hills and woods, the atmosphere had acquired a malignant quality, which, exerting its influence on all animal bodies, produced what in India is termed the hill-fever. In all places of this kind, as, for example, at the southern foot of the Gurwal and Kemaoon mountains, the water partakes of the baneful quality of the air, by which in part it seems to be impregnated with its pestiferous properties, which may, however, be aggravated by the continual falling of branches and leaves into the rivulets and reservoirs.