Life and religion of the Hindoos.

by Joguth Chunder Gangooly

“Be thou, O God, exalted high;

And as thy glory fills the sky,

So let it be on earth displayed,

Till thou art here, as there obeyed.”

I summoned all my energies to serve the gods and goddesses according to the rules laid down in the Hindoo Scriptures. In the morning I would go after the choice flowers, that I might satisfy the idols with just what they are fond of; for some Hindoo gods are fond of a certain kind of flower or leaf which the others do not care for. It pained me exceedingly to see the young men, my neighbors, go without prayer, worship, or fast. I persuaded them to follow my standard,—assured them if they would only come to the gods, their imperfections, wants, sorrows, would be removed by the celestial grace. My exhortation found immediate response from them. Among them two were shamefully lazy,—could not prepare their lessons at all,—were the worst boys of every school they went to. These finding me in a better and more honorable position, begged me to show to them the source whence flows “all good and perfect gifts.” As I had myself strong faith in the benevolent disposition of the gods I urged my friends to come to them for help. Accordingly a party of young devotees was formed under my guidance, of whom all were Brahmuns. Being large in number, and having among us daring elements, we could gather the best flowers from distant parts of our village for the worship. While other Brahmuns had hardly left their beds we were on the tops of large trees, and there filled our baskets with varieties of flowers. We would then move towards the Ganges, where, performing our ablutions according to the prescribed rules, we visited the principal temple to worship the image of Shiba. As my friends did not know how to worship it, and what form of prayer to use in the different parts of the service, I had to do the business of the priest, uttering audibly the sacred words learned of my father, and making them recite after me. Before leaving the temple I would decorate the altar and the image with the flowers, using all my skill and earnestness. So regular were our visits to the temple, so many flowers were carried there, that other Brahmuns coming in earlier would say, “Joguth has not been here yet, we see.” The Hindoos fast a great many days during the year, so I wished to do; but my mother interposed, as it would have destroyed my health to abstain from food and drink entirely for twenty-four hours. I used to observe one fast only,—in the month of February, I believe. It is called Shiba Rattree, or the Night of Shiba. The first part of the day was less trying, but in the afternoon and night the face would turn pale, the eyes sink, the body become weak, etc. Still, hoping to receive a blessed seat in the heaven of Shiba, I would bear all these, and go through abstinence with a cheerful heart. Once, while quite a number of us fasted, the forenoon passed along nicely with fun, plays, and walks. A friend older than I left us, and after an hour returned again. I noticed his face looked easy, entirely different from that of an hour ago, and suspected he had, perhaps, taken some food, and asked him about it. Before he had time to say yea or nay, I saw something yellow on his lip which proved to be the remainder of a fruit he had eaten. At this one felt indignant, a second laughed out, a third said he would not fast longer. I was left with one more to satisfy Shiba, by passing the whole day and night without food or drink. My belief in the gods was so strong, my faith in their protecting power was so unwavering, that I thought I could hold close communion with them, see their smiles beaming forth out of the eyes and mouth of the images. To Shiba I prayed for learning; to Luckhy for wealth; to Doorga for relief from dangers; to Krishto for heaven,—and I was pretty sure of getting them. Little did I dream then that these deities are mere idols, whom I worshipped, loved, and feared, and for whose grace I fasted so hopefully. During the time of evening worship, when hundreds of lights were burned, the band played, the incense filled the place with sweet perfume, and joy shed its charms over all, I would stand reverently before the image, look earnestly at its face, repeat silent prayers, and thereby feel myself happy. At the close, I would kneel down, or sometimes prostrate myself on the ground with humiliation.

The Brahmuns desired my mother to commit me to their charge, which she did not, for various reasons. One of them, who had a large parish, would send a substitute round quite often to the houses of his people to worship the idols for them. I had to go, too, to a town across the river Ganges to attend to the images. So strong was my affection for the idols, so earnest was I to see all people worship unceasingly, that while playing cards with my friends one day, I proposed an extra worship of the goddess. The little band approved it; the cost was counted and found too large for our private pocket to afford. I encouraged them with a promise to construct the image with my own hand. They considered the possibility of the enterprise, and we at once set out to work. Accordingly, bamboo was brought, a piece of board, nails, straw, string, etc., were secured. Fearing our parents would interfere with this, we carried the materials to the top of a house, which in our country is flat. One day a respectable Brahmun, looking at the parapet, saw the hands of the image and came upstairs to see what we had done. The neighbors flocked in to see, admire, and help at our work, and a universal enthusiasm prevailed. A great many doubted my ability to finish the idol, but I think I did it nicely. My oldest brother painted it, and we received the praise of the people. To commemorate this event we worshipped the idol annually, defraying the expenses by subscription. It makes me smile to think that, when my friends invited me to take the lead, as usual, in things in subsequent years, I pointed out to them the error of idol worship. Of course they did not feel like myself, so they came to a conclusion that I had grown crazy, and would certainly become Christian very soon!

CHAPTER III.

First Views of Christianity.—Prejudices.—Sermon on the Mount.—New Testament.—Efforts and Struggles.—Comparison of Hindoo and Christian Doctrines.—Conversion.—First Zeal.—Perplexed by the Trinity.—Visit to a Missionary.—Trinitarianism.—My Difficulties.—Deistical Companions.—Arrival of Mr. Dall.

Now begins an important stage in my life. The dawn of a bright future breaks upon me with a serenity never before dreamed of. My Heavenly Father, not willing that his child should go away from him and remain ignorant of his gracious majesty, turned my course slowly toward his infinite goodness. He could no longer suffer his child to prostrate himself before “wood and stone,” and He sent His “Beloved Son” to teach him and bring him to his “Father’s Home.” While much occupied in observing the religious ordinances of my people, while summoning all my energies for the cause of the idols, and offering all the treasures of my heart and head at their feet, I heard of the celebrated Christian Missionary, Rev. Dr. Duff of Calcutta, and his colleagues, making converts of the Hindoo boys. My animosity towards Christianity rose with all its fury, and I wished to see it die out, that it might not rob the peace and prosperity of the Hindoo families, by stealing away the young boys and leading them headlong into vice, immorality, and misery. For the Hindoo’s impression of Christianity is this: That in order to become a Christian it is essentially necessary that a young man should treat his parents unkindly, eat animal food, such as beef, pork, ham, etc., which the Hindoos detest very much, drink wine, not wash his mouth after the meal, as the animals do, and forsake all things which bear the name of Hindoo, no matter how beautiful they are. Now, if these are the essential features of Christianity, why should I have wondered that the Hindoos fear it? But thanks be to God that these are not parts of the religion of Christ; these have little or nothing to do with it. Again, the Hindoo hatred towards Christianity arises from another important cause; viz., that the lives of most of its nominal advocates contradict its spirit. No nation is so furious, proud, bloodthirsty as a Christian one. No country, I presume, is flooded so often with human blood, as that which is studded with “meeting-houses,” which publish the Gospel of Peace by myriads, annually, of different editions, versions, and illustrations. The gentlemen, the senators of Christian countries, impelled by animal passions, fight duels, and thereby abuse the precious gift of God, the life. These are the men who declare themselves disciples of Christ, who own pews in the church, whose wives and daughters are Sunday-school teachers. “But whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also,” is a precept of their Teacher. My dear mother would point me out the ambitious deeds of the English people, saying, “There, Joguth, do not you speak of the religion of Shahebs to me; put it on the shelf yonder; they have no religion at all! What! what did you say, ‘And if any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also!’ Very beautiful words, indeed! O Joguth, what do the Shahebs do? Do they care a fig for them? No! Their religion is ‘to rob those who have nothing to do with them.’ Poor Runjit Serigh, the Queen of Nagpoor! I pity them; they fell victims to the ambition of your Christian Shahebs. How I should like to see their Queen, and tell her, ‘Shame to your subjects! They fight, they quarrel, they rob our country. You do not know what they do out of your sight. When they go abroad they forget the instruction of home,’” etc.

Having had a fear, and hatred, too, towards Christianity, I determined to investigate its true peculiarities,—which I felt quite sure must be childish and fallacious,—that I might be qualified to argue with the Christians and triumphantly expose their errors. Some Christian books were necessary, but how should I get them? I was too timid to go to the missionaries; first, I could not speak English; and, secondly, I feared them to be the “boy thieves,” as the Hindoos designate them. On a holiday I saw low castes carrying home a quantity of “Tracts” given to them by the servants of Christ. I managed to secure a copy which contained that portion of Christ’s teaching known by the name of the “Sermon on the Mount.” Need I tell to a Christian reader the sublime beauty of these words of Life? I should say, however, that I was quite disappointed in not finding fallacious, weak, foolish doctrines in it as I anticipated. Its pages opened heaven before me, and I could see distinctly its joys, its angels, and its blessedness. I could see also the earth, not like one around us, in which the life and its attendant functions have been manufactured by our own hands, but one fresh from the hand of the Most High,—a pure, simple, loving world! Over and over I read the tract, and wished to get some more. A few tracts which I subsequently received contained a great deal of the teaching of men, and less of His who had studied his theology in the bosom of the Father, and who said, “My words are not my own; what I have heard of my Father, that speak I to you.”