Life and Work in Benares and Kumaon, 1839-1877

by James Kennedy

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.

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.

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