[Transcriber's Note: In the original source edition, most odd-numbered page headers consisted of a short phrase describing the material below. These page headers have been incorporated into the text as sidenotes.]

UNION CHURCH, RANEE KHET.

LIFE AND WORK IN BENARES AND KUMAON
1839-1877

BY JAMES KENNEDY, M.A.

Missionary of the London Missionary Society, Author of "Christianity
and the Religions of India," &c.

WITH AN INTRODUCTORY NOTE
BY
SIR WILLIAM MUIR, K.C.S.I., LL.D., D.C.L.
Late Lieutenant-Governor North Western Provinces of India

ILLUSTRATED

CASSELL AND COMPANY, LIMITED
NEW YORK
1885

PREFACE.

The history of this volume can be given in a few words. Months ago I said to a beloved relative that during the greater part of my life I had more to do than I could well accomplish, and that now, with health and strength in a measure restored, I sometimes thought I had not enough to do. He said: "Why not write the reminiscences of your Indian life?" The counsel struck me as good, and I have acted on it.

My theme has not the advantage of novelty: I cannot tell of a new country explored, and a new people brought within the knowledge of the world; but it has the advantage of greatness and variety. I am not aware that any book on Indian Missions has achieved signal success. I do not think, however, a single one has been written in vain. That must have been a singularly poor book on so great a subject which has not had something in it fitted to interest and inform readers. That must have been a very solitary, lonely missionary, who has had no friends ready to listen to what he has had to say. These books may have received little general attention; but here and there, as the result of their perusal, there has been a more intelligent apprehension of our work, deeper sympathy with us, and heartier support rendered to us. I have ventured to add a volume to those already published in the hope that it may do some good before it passes into the oblivion which necessarily awaits most of the productions of the press.

A glance at the contents of this volume will show it takes up a number of subjects, some of which are merely touched in most books on Missions, and others not at all. Reminiscences, especially when they spread over many years, and embrace great events, admit of very discursive treatment. They leave the writer unfettered to take up any subject within his wide scope which he may deem fitted to interest his readers. I have allowed myself the freedom thus afforded me. My aim has been to take my readers with me to our Indian home, to see us at our work, to hear us conversing with the people, to accompany us on our journeys, to surround them in thought with our surroundings, so that they may realize our position, trials, difficulties, and joys. I have throughout maintained the standpoint of one whose Indian life has been devoted to Mission work. My two spheres of labour—Benares during the greater part of my course, and Ranee Khet, in the Hill Province of Kumaon, in later years—have come in for extended remark.

My attention has not, however, been confined to Missions. I have endeavoured to write as one interested in everything which ought to interest a resident in the land. I have given some account of the climate, aspect of the country, condition and character of the people, changes which have taken place, modes of travelling, and the British Government. I have again and again travelled in the North-West, and some account of these journeys has been given. On one occasion I spent the greater part of two months in Ceylon, and to that beautiful island a chapter is devoted.

I have recorded at some length my experiences of the Indian Mutiny of 1857. No one who was in that terrible storm can ever forget it; and the European inhabitants of Benares at that time have special reason for thankfulness for their marvellous escape.

I have found it convenient to follow, as a rule, the chronological order, but I have not kept closely to it. When recording the more remote past, the nearer past has been continually coming into view, and the contrast has found expression.

Indian names are written as ordinary English readers would pronounce them, in preference to using the diacritical marks with which I have been long familiar in the writing of Hindustanee in the Roman character. The term "Hindu" is so established that I have used it in preference to "Hindoo."

At the end of this book the reader will find statistics fraught with interest to all who wish to understand the great Indian problem in its many aspects.

It is impossible to keep one's self out of view in a work like this; but I hope the candid reader will give me credit for saying as little of myself, family, and doings as is compatible with the conditions under which I have written.

I beg to dedicate this book to the friends of Christian Missions, in the hope it may increase the interest of some in that great Continent, with its teeming population, which has in God's providence come under the rule of our land, and has special claims on our prayers, sympathy, and efforts. I cannot doubt that my Indian friends, both those who have come back to England and those who are still in India, will give a kindly reception to the volume. They will, I believe, confirm the general accuracy of my statements, and to a large extent acquiesce in my views. With them so long as my heart beats it will go forth in heartiest wishes and fervent prayer for the land with which our past has so inseparably bound us.

J. K.

Acton, August, 1884.

CONTENTS.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

PREFATORY NOTE.

Neither the author nor his book stands in need of any introduction to the public. But having been asked for such, I cheerfully respond. During his long residence in the North-Western Provinces of India, where I myself happened to reside, ample opportunities were afforded me of knowing and observing the Rev. Jas. Kennedy and his work. And I am therefore able, and glad, to say that no man was ever better placed than he was for gaining a thorough acquaintance with Hindustan and the various races inhabiting it, during the four decades of which he treats. I have met with none whose calm and sagacious judgment might more surely enable him to form correct conclusions, nor whose high and scrupulous principle should impart to the reader greater confidence in the fair and truthful statement of them.

I regard this book as possessing a rare interest, not only for the missionary student, but equally so for the general reader. The amount of information it contains, descriptive, social, evangelistic, and even political, is astonishing; and the discursive and, in part, autobiographical form in which it is written, renders it so easy, that he who runs may read. The contrast is drawn graphically, and with a light and lively pen, between the state of things fifty years ago and that which now prevails: the exchange of slow and cumbrous means of conveyance for those which enable you in these days to perform the journey of weeks in, you might say, as many hours; and the not less marked advance in education and intelligence. The retrospect, material as well as moral, social, and religious, is useful in many ways.

But that which lends its chief value to this work is the faithful picture of missionary labour—its trials and difficulties, its results, rewards, and prospects. During the considerable period brought under review, standing by, as I did, and looking carefully on, I can unhesitatingly attest, as a whole, the correctness of my friend's statements, and the reasonableness of the lessons he would draw therefrom. This book should be read by every one who wishes to acquaint himself with the attitude of Christian agencies towards the people of India, and of these towards the Gospel. There is here a fertile field of facts and materials for thought. The author resorts to no roseate colouring, nor any kind of varnish. Nothing is unduly sanguine. All is tempered by sound judgment and wise discretion.

If I may add a word from my own experience, it is this—Let my fellow-countrymen and countrywomen in India give their countenance to the Missionaries labouring around them. They well deserve it, but too often are allowed to stand alone. The loss is theirs who keep aloof, and neglect the man and his work. While our people are running to and fro in the busy whirl of Indian life—some hasting to be rich, others engrossed in the labours of administration—higher things are too frequently forgotten. The spiritual life is prone to fade and droop. Many men—and women as well as men—who would at home be cultivating some corner of the Master's vineyard, begin to forget that similar obligations follow after them in their private walk and life abroad. Against these deteriorating tendencies, to mingle with the missionary band affords a wholesome antidote. For myself, I can never be thankful enough that in my early Indian life I found valued friends in the missionary circle, not only of the highest mental culture, but of a devoted Christian heart; and was privileged with their intimacy to the end. Among them I cannot refrain from naming such noble Missionaries as Perkins, Smith, and Leupolt, French, Stuart, Welland, and Shackell, Owen, Humphrey, Budden and Watt, Hoernle, and Pfander—that grand apologist to the Mahometans—all of whose friendship I enjoyed, as well as that of the Author himself. If some of these were men the like of whom we may not soon look upon again—a galaxy of rare appearance—yet, as we may learn from these pages, the field is in the present day stocked even more plentifully than ever it was before. Opportunities of cultivating in this field Christian friendship—and may I not add Christian work, and that for Ladies also—are happily multiplying all around; and I can promise an ample reward to such as make a faithful use of them.

In conclusion, I will only say that I am much mistaken if this work fails to take its place as a standard book of reference in every library of missionary labour and Christian work abroad.

W. MUIR.

16th September, 1884.

CHAPTER I.

VOYAGE TO INDIA.

In 1837 I was accepted by the London Missionary Society as one of its agents. On September 15, 1838, I embarked at Portsmouth with thirty other passengers on the Duke of Buccleugh, a vessel of 650 tons burthen, and landed in Calcutta on January 19, 1839, en route to Benares, to which I had been appointed. The only land we sighted from Portsmouth to Saugar Island was a rock in the Indian Ocean. The time we thus spent at sea was four months and five days. Every now and then speedier voyages were made, but a few years previously this voyage would have been deemed rapid. The Duke of Buccleugh, on her next voyage to India, went to pieces on a sandbank at the mouth of the Hoogly, but happily the weather was moderate, and passengers and crew were saved.

The route by the Cape of Good Hope has been abandoned for passengers for many years, and now Bombay is reached by the Straits of Gibraltar and the Suez Canal in a month, sometimes in less, while another week is required for the voyage to Calcutta. Those who travel with the Indian mails across the Continent of Europe can reach their port in less than three weeks, and distant parts of India by rail in four weeks or less.

All on board—officials returning to their posts, and persons going out for the first time—were delighted to find the voyage coming to an end; but new-comers like myself were under the spell of novelty, which gave new interest to everything we saw. At Kedgeree, near the mouth of the Hoogly, the Post Office boat came to our ship with welcome letters from friends, who were looking out for our arrival. The level land on each side of the river, with its rich tropical vegetation; the numerous villages on the banks, with their beehive-like huts; the craft on the river, large and small, many of them so heavily laden as to bring them down almost to the water's edge; the little boats, with plantains and other fruits, which tried to attach themselves to our ship in the hope of getting purchasers; the strange appearance of the people, with their only covering of cloth round the middle—all gave us a thrill of excitement which can be known only in similar circumstances. Then, we were about to set foot on the great land, of which we had read much, to which we had looked with the deepest interest, and where we purposed to spend our days in the service of Christ. Though so many years have since elapsed, we can yet vividly remember the peculiar feeling of that time.

The day before we landed, the Native agent of the mercantile house to which our ship was consigned made his appearance with letters and fresh supplies. To the surprise of us new-comers, roast beef was on our dinner-table that day. We thought it strange that in the land where the cow was worshipped, beef should be one of the first things brought to us.

Our missionary friends in Calcutta had heard of the arrival of our ship, and arranged for our accommodation. Some of them came on board when we anchored in the Hoogly, off Fort William, and gave us a hearty welcome. We were right glad to find ourselves on land again.

THE CITY OF PALACES.

Calcutta is a hundred miles from the sea, but the country is so level that the tide runs up in great strength many miles beyond, and the tidal wave, which comes in at certain times, is very dangerous to small craft, and requires care on the part of large ships. The great trade of the city is shown by the vast number of ships at anchor in the river, many of them stately vessels of large tonnage, of which in our day many are steamers.

On landing, a stranger gets the impression that Calcutta is rightly called the city of palaces. On the great plain adjoining the river, at some distance from each other, are two notable objects—Fort William and Government House. Beyond the plain lies Chowringhee, a range of lofty houses extending for more than a mile, with balconies and flat roofs, giving one an impression of grandeur, which is scarcely sustained when more nearly seen, as that which looked at a distance like marble is found to be stucco and plaster. Behind Chowringhee are a number of wide streets with similar, but generally smaller houses, each apart, with offices and servants' houses in the enclosure. When entering the city one sees that strange combination of meanness and dirt with grandeur with which travellers in Eastern lands are so familiar. In the neighbourhood of Government House there are a number of shops in the European fashion, but a very large proportion of the business of Calcutta, we suppose the most of it, is carried on in bazaars, in which there are no showy shops, but where there is abundance of goods of every description. When we went to India, and for many years afterwards, in front of these shops were open sewers, over which customers had to pass on slabs of stone. Amidst houses for Europeans, even in the most aristocratic part of the city, were native houses of every description, many of them miserable grass huts.

Since the time of which I speak, some forty-five years ago, Calcutta has been greatly improved. It has been drained, supplied with good water, instead of being dependent on great open tanks, to which all had access, which no arrangement could keep tolerably pure, and is lit with gas. Open sewers are no longer to be seen, and from the best parts of the city many native houses have disappeared. The changes effected must conduce immensely to the health and comfort of the inhabitants. There is no part of India, we suppose, free from the plague of the musquito, but in all my Indian life I have not been so much tormented in any place by it as I have been in Calcutta. It adds insult to injury. If it would only bite, sharp though its bite be, one could put up with it; but before it bites, and after, it goes on buzzing, as if mocking you, and evades every attempt to catch it. The last time we were there musquitoes were comparatively few, and they seemed to have lost much of their former mischievous vigour. We suppose the improved sanitary arrangements have not agreed with them.

When in Calcutta everything reminded us that we had left our own country behind, though not all our own people. We saw them on every side, but they were a mere handful in the midst of a strange people in a strange land, where man and nature presented entirely new aspects. The look of the people, the exceedingly scanty dress of the labouring class, and the long flowing robes of those in better circumstances, the marks on the foreheads and arms of the Hindus, showing the gods whose worshippers they were, their processions with noisy, unmusical music, the public buildings of the people, the mosques of the Muhammadans, and the temples of the Hindus, with a church here and there to show that Christianity had also its shrines—all brought to our view characteristics of the great land on which we had entered. Bombay, since the opening of the Suez Canal, has made progress which somewhat affects the pre-eminence of Calcutta among the cities of India, but it still remains the capital of British India—I ought rather to say of India—and its position will continue to make it, what it has been in the past, a vast emporium of commerce, the abode of a great population, and a place of most stirring activity. It continues to be the resort of persons of every civilized, and almost every semi civilized, nation on the face of the earth.

My stay in Calcutta of six weeks was longer than I had anticipated, but my time was very pleasantly and profitably spent. A few days after arrival a united prayer-meeting was held: missionaries of all societies were present, the attendance was large, the spirit was earnest and devout, and I then began to realize, what it was my happiness to realize more fully afterwards, the uniting power of the missionary enterprise. I had the happiness of attending services with Native Christians, and of joining them in spirit, though not with understanding. I was especially interested in the noble Missionary Institution of the Church of Scotland, and in the smaller, but promising, school of our own Society. I felt as if the sight of such a number of boys and young men, many of them with most pleasing and intelligent countenances, all learning our language, and, what is vastly better, all taught from the Word of God, was enough in itself to repay one for the long voyage to India. I heard them examined, and was surprised at the knowledge of English possessed by some of them, at the extent of their Biblical knowledge, and at the Christian tone with which they gave replies to questions. I asked a tall, slightly built young man, with a most intelligent face, dressed in the flowing white robe of his people, who had spoken with what struck me as the accent of conviction, "Are you a Christian?" to which he replied, "Yes, in heart; but I fear persecution." To this subject of schools I shall have often occasion to revert in the course of my reminiscences.

During my stay in Calcutta I had much pleasant intercourse with missionaries of different Societies. I was the guest of Mr. Boaz, afterwards Dr. Boaz, of Union Chapel, by whom I was treated with much kindness. Mr. Gogerly had been my fellow-passenger to India. Mr. Lacroix and Mr. Piffard were, at that time, the senior missionaries of our Society in Calcutta. Both were admirable men. Mr. Piffard was a gentleman of property, who devoted himself to missionary work, and laboured for many years most faithfully, without requiring to take, and without taking, any salary from the Society. A short time afterwards he was suddenly carried off by cholera. Mr. Lacroix lived for many years. I had the pleasure of meeting him in my visits to Calcutta, and in his visits to the North-west, and also of frequent correspondence with him. He was esteemed and loved as few have been. He was a man with a commanding presence, tall and well-built, and had a geniality of manner which won all hearts. He spoke and wrote English remarkably well, with a slight foreign accent and sprightliness, an elan, as our French friends call it, which told of his French birth and upbringing. He had a thorough knowledge of the Bengalee language, and used it with a commanding eloquence, to which his voice, look, and gesture greatly contributed. His last illness, the result of his long residence in the enervating climate of Bengal, was borne with Christian patience, and drew forth the sympathy and kindly inquiry of all classes. At his funeral such tokens of respect and love were rendered to him by every class of the community, Native and European, as have been seldom witnessed in Calcutta.

SERAMPORE.

Like all newly-arrived missionaries in Calcutta, I made a pilgrimage to Serampore. The illustrious trio—Carey, Marshman, and Ward—whose names are indissolubly connected with that place, as first their refuge and, for many years afterwards, the scene of their plans and labours for the evangelization of India, had passed away by that time (January, 1839), but the Rev. John Mack, who had been long associated with them, and Mr. John Marshman, Dr. Marshman's eldest son, remained. I was taken by Mr. Mack to the college, the printing-office, the type manufactory, the paper manufactory, the mission chapel, the station church, Dr. Carey's garden, and the native Christian village, indeed, to every object of interest about the place. I remember seeing an elderly man engaged in type-making, and observing a little image in a niche above him. I was told this man had been many years in this department of work, and had remained so strict a Hindu that he would work only under the protection of his god. The teaching of the missionaries had had no effect in weaning him from his ancestral idolatry. Yet many were won to Christ by the Scriptures and books, for the preparation of which the work of this man, and of others of his class, was indispensable.

When visiting Serampore, and hearing from Mr. Mack of the doings and achievements of the great men whose residence at Serampore has given it a sacredness it will ever retain in the annals of Indian Missions, I felt as a young Greek would feel on being taken to Marathon and Thermopylæ. I felt I was entering on a war, where there had been heroes before me, which demanded courage and endurance of a far higher order than had ever been enlisted in the cause of patriotism.

CHAPTER II.

VOYAGE TO BENARES.

March, 1839.

I left myself in the hands of friends in Calcutta as to the best mode of proceeding to my destination. There were at that time three modes of travelling to the North-Western Provinces. One was being carried in a palanquin on men's shoulders, arrangements being made to have fresh bearers every few miles. For a long journey of more than four hundred miles to Benares this was at once a very tedious and fatiguing mode of travelling. To one who knew not a word of the language of the people in whose hands one was to be for days it was additionally trying. Yet not a few persons newly arrived, some of them delicate ladies, did travel in that mode to far more distant places than Benares, and very seldom any mishap befell them. In this mode little more could be taken in the way of luggage than necessary clothing.

Another mode was by the river in a native boat, with a crew engaged to take the party to their destination. Not a few travelled in this way, even to Delhi. Weeks, often months, were spent on the voyage; great inconveniences were endured, and not infrequently great perils encountered from the sudden storms to which voyagers on the Ganges are exposed, from the strong and eddying currents in some parts of the river, and perhaps most of all from the treacherous character of the boatmen. In 1841 and 1842 a severe storm fell on a large fleet of boats taking a European regiment to the north-west. Many of the boats were wrecked, and, if I remember rightly, about three hundred men lost their lives.

There was a third mode of proceeding to the north-west. A few years previously a River Steam Company had been formed for the transmission of passengers and goods. Passengers were accommodated in flats drawn by steamers. As the Ganges enters Bengal it breaks into a number of streams, by which it makes its way to the ocean. The Hoogly, on which Calcutta stands, is one of these streams. Some of them are so shallow at certain seasons that native boats of considerable size cannot find sufficient water, and they are at that time impassable for steamers, though so constructed as to have the least possible draught. The result is that the steamers for the north-west (we believe none ply now) had to make a great detour, to go down the Hoogly to Saugor Island, and then to proceed by one of the channels there found to the main stream. This greatly increased the distance to the north-west. Except in the rainy season, steamers for Benares had to go about eight hundred miles.

THE SUNDERBUNS.

Of these three routes this one of the river steamers was in many respects the most convenient and pleasant, especially for persons new in the country, and my Calcutta friends kindly arranged that I should be sent on in this way. I accordingly embarked for Benares on a flat, tugged by a steamer, in the first week of March. After going down the Hoogly to Saugor Island, we made our way into the district called the Sunderbuns by one of the channels of the Ganges. We got into a labyrinth of streams, every here and there opening up into a wide reach of water, giving one the impression we were entering a lake; and shortly afterwards we found ourselves in a channel so narrow that we almost touched the banks on both sides, and which barely allowed a passage where there was a sharp turn in the stream. We had native pilots who knew the region thoroughly, and were in no danger of going astray. The land down to the water's edge was covered with the densest tropical vegetation, so that the banks often bounded our view, except when the trees on it were lower than those beyond. In the waters and out, wild beasts abound. Alligators were seen dropping from the banks into the stream on hearing the approach of the steamer. We saw no tigers, but we heard much about them as we were threading our way through that region. The previous year, early one morning, the watch on the deck of the flat was startled by a tiger leaping on board, and, evidently bewildered by its new circumstances, leaping off on the other side. Messrs. Lacroix and Gogerly, when on a native boat in the Sunderbuns, were witnesses of a desperate fight between a tiger and an alligator. The story has been often told.

Less than two centuries ago there was a large population in what may be called that amphibious region, the soil when cleared being very rich; but owing to the incursions of Mug pirates from the coast of Burmah, and the oppression of Muhammadan rulers of Bengal, the most of the inhabitants perished, others fled, and so complete was the ruin that the exact site of once prosperous cities is unknown. In a region like the Sunderbuns, when man's restraining and improving hand is withdrawn every trace of his presence disappears under the rank vegetation, which speedily covers the sphere of his labours. The country, under British protection, was in 1839 beginning to be reoccupied. Patches of ground were reclaimed from the jungle, and since that time cultivation has been greatly extended. We occasionally met native boats, and were thus reminded we were not the only human begins in that district. Nearly a week elapsed before we emerged from the Sunderbuns.

Our passengers were a motley band. Between twenty and thirty were Europeans, two or three were Eurasians, and there was a company of Sepoys under a native officer in charge of treasure. Most of the Sepoys were Hindus, and as they cannot cook on the water, which is forbidden by caste-law, they were obliged to subsist as they best could on dry grain. The Muhammadans had no convenience for cooking on the flat, but they were allowed partial use of the steamer. All were delighted when they got into the open country, and could get on shore at night to prepare their meals.

The steamer and flat were brought to anchor at all the important towns on the river, for lading and unlading goods and for landing passengers, of whom very few left us, as most were bound for Benares and Allahabad. When evening came on we always anchored, wherever we might be. We saw a little of Bhagulpore, Monghyr, Dinapore, Patna, Ghazeepore, and some other places. At Monghyr I spent a very pleasant evening with Mr. Leslie of the Baptist Mission, even then of considerable standing, and years afterwards a highly esteemed veteran in the missionary host.

A STORM ON THE GANGES.

Our progress was slow. In some places the stream was too strong for our steamer tugging the flat, and in other places the water was too shallow. Sometimes we got for hours, in one case for a whole day, on sandbanks, from which we got off with great difficulty. The most memorable incident of the voyage was a storm, which came on us one evening as we were nearing Dinapore. There was so little warning of its approach that we, who knew not the climate, were quite unprepared for its coming. Before breaking on us we were brought to a standstill, the flat was separated from the steamer, and both flat and steamer were brought to anchor. The sky suddenly became dark, we heard puffs of wind, and then the storm burst on us in all its fury. The dust was so raised that we could see only a few feet from the flat, and the flat so rolled that every now and then a splash of water came in at the windows. A scene of great confusion ensued. Some Indo-Portuguese servants were on their knees, imploring Mary—"Mariam, Mariam!"—to save them. The Hindus were loud in their appeals to "Ram, Ram!" while the Muhammadans shouted "Allah, Allah!" A newly arrived English lady almost fainted from fright, and her husband tried to calm and assure her. Every face indicated anxiety. In less than an hour all was over, and we were thankful to find ourselves once more in safety.

Before leaving England I had possessed myself of a Hindustanee Grammar, and in Calcutta of a Hindustanee Dictionary. On the voyage to India I did not make much of the grammar, but on the way to Benares I gave myself resolutely to learning the language. I found a young native officer on the flat who knew a little English, and who professed to be a good Hindustanee scholar. I got the consent of the native officer in command to his coming to my cabin when off duty, and I spent hours daily with him, trying to get my tongue about the strange sounds, with which I knew I must be familiar if I was to do the work for which I had come to India. I received great help from this young Muhammadan, and felt as if I was beginning to get my foot into the language before reaching my destination.

On the three Sabbaths I was on the river I had the pleasure of preaching to the Europeans on board.

A voyage on the Ganges does not enable one to see much of the country. The banks are often very high; in many places there is a great extent of sand; the country, with the exception of the district where the main stream is entered, is very level, and the country is therefore very imperfectly seen. The native craft, so unlike the vessels of our own country, with their lofty prows and sterns, and great ragged square sails, many laden with wood and grass, which made them like moving stacks, were constant objects of interest.

At length, after more than three weeks on board, we were delighted one Sunday forenoon to see in the distance the domes and minarets of Benares.

CHAPTER III.

ARRIVAL AT BENARES.

On Sabbath, March 31, 1839, we came to anchor at the northern end of Benares, at a place called Raj Ghat, the ferry connecting the city on the left bank of the river with the Trunk road on the right, leading to Behar and Bengal. Near this place the most of the native craft employed in the city traffic is moored. Many of the vessels are of considerable size.

For hours Benares had been in sight, but owing to the strength of the stream our progress had been slow. It was early afternoon by the time of our arrival. In so public a place as Raj Ghat there are always a number of people, but the early afternoon is a time when few bathe, and there is a lull in the stir of the community. As the afternoon comes on, and the evening advances, there is fresh activity. We therefore, on landing, saw little of the scene with which we were afterwards to become familiar.

Word of the approach of our steamer and flat had reached Secrole, the European suburb of Benares, three miles inland, and no sooner had we come to anchor than the agent of the Steam Company and the friends of expected passengers came on board. Among these was the Rev. William Smith of the Baptist Mission, whose house was on the high bank immediately above Raj Ghat, and who had been requested by my brethren of the London Missionary Society to be on the look-out for me. This good man gave me a kindly welcome, and took me with him to his house, built very much in the native fashion, with flat roof, with small, low rooms entering from one into another, and a verandah extending along its front, from which a commanding view was obtained of the river and craft below, the country on the other side of the river, and a part of the front of the city. Immediately behind the house was the chapel, in which daily worship was conducted.

PREACHING TO BEGGARS.

The first thing I saw on getting to Mr. Smith's house was the chapel crowded with very poor-looking people, of whom a number were blind and lame. I was told these were beggars, who came every Lord's-day to receive a dole, either pice or dry grain, from the missionary and his wife, and who listened very patiently to an address before the dole was given. This service was kept up for many years, and there was no falling off in the attendance. Those who have read the life of Henry Martyn, and others of the early missionary period in India, know that they ministered to this class. Here were persons whose destitution appealed directly to the Christian heart, and who were content to be present when the gospel message was delivered, while little access to others could be obtained. How far these poor people heard it would be difficult to say. I am afraid few heard with any desire to understand and consider what was said, but there is every reason to believe some did obtain lasting spiritual good. We have heard of instances of genuine conversion, though it must be admitted these were rare; and it must be also acknowledged there were instances of pretended conversion, when the life soon proved that the motive for seeking baptism was entirely sordid. Still the work in itself was worthy of the followers of Christ, and could not fail to make a favourable impression, not only on the persons helped, but on the community around. Almsgiving stands high among virtues in the estimation of both Hindus and Muhammadans; it is considered sufficient to atone for many sins, and it is practised so indiscriminately as to pauperize many who could provide for themselves. It is unfit that Christianity should seem less careful of those who are really poor and helpless than Hinduism and Muhammadanism are. Work such as I saw in Mr. Smith's chapel is carried on in some places down to the present time.

A short time after our arrival at Raj Ghat my dear friend the Rev. W. P. Lyon appeared, and took me in his conveyance by a road skirting the city to the Mission House in Secrole, which he then occupied. From Mr. and Mrs. Lyon, both of whom I had known intimately for years in our own land, I received a hearty welcome.

At the corner of the mission compound, facing the public road, was the humble chapel, built of sun-dried bricks, in which service was conducted in the native language. I arrived half an hour before the time for the afternoon service. Before its commencement I had the pleasure of meeting Messrs. Buyers and Shurman, with whom I was to be for years associated in mission work. With them I went to the service, which was conducted by Mr. Shurman. There were at that time only two or three native Christians connected with the mission, and these, with their families, the missionaries and their wives, and a few orphan children, constituted the congregation. I had just enough of the language to catch an expression here and there, and from my ignorance of what was said my mind was left at greater freedom for realizing my new and strange position.

I had just had a glance of the sacred city of the Hindus. I had seen at a short distance the domes of some of the principal temples, and the minarets of some of the principal mosques, especially those of the mosque built by Aurungzeb, soaring far above every other object in the city. I had dimly seen the bathing-places of the people stretching away for miles, and the houses on the high bank of the river. As I landed I had seen a few bathing, and a number moving about.

And now, in this poor chapel, with its low roof and earthen floor, I found a few assembled for the worship of the living God through the Lord Jesus Christ. I realized, as I had not done before, that I had left my native land behind, and had come among a people the vast majority of whom were wholly given to idolatry, and the rest followers of Muhammad, the bitter enemies of my Lord and Saviour. The greatness and difficulty of the missionary enterprise presented themselves to me with a painful vividness, and but for the conviction that the work was of God, and that my long-cherished desire to enter on it and the gratification of my desire in my appointment to Benares had come from Him, I should have been ready to retrace my steps. Yet here I was, worshipping with a few persons who had been idolaters, and one of whom at least had made great sacrifices when he had avowed his faith in Jesus. Why should we despise the day of small things? Forty-four years have elapsed since that, to me, memorable 31st of March, 1839, and I can now realize myself sitting with Messrs. Buyers and Lyon in front of that humble pulpit, while Mr. Shurman preached, and remember, as if it were yesterday, the strange feelings that thrilled me that afternoon.

RESIDENCE IN BENARES.

I had to make no arrangement for my accommodation on reaching Benares. Previous to my arrival it had been arranged that I was to take up my abode with my dear friends, Mr. and Mrs. Lyon. I was at once at home with them, for Mr. Lyon had been my fellow-student at Glasgow, and Mrs. Lyon was the member of a family with whom I had been intimately acquainted while studying at Edinburgh. Within a few days of my arrival I was introduced to the missionaries of the Church Missionary Society, and to a few European residents who took an interest in missionary work.

CHAPTER IV.

CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN BENARES.

FROM 1816 TO 1839.

It may be well to give, before proceeding further, a brief account of what had been done for the evangelization of Benares up to that time.

Our Baptist brethren were first in the field. All who have read the biography of the illustrious trio of Serampore are aware that they formed, and with ardent zeal and untiring energy prosecuted, great schemes for the evangelization of the millions to whose spiritual good they had consecrated their lives. The translation of the Scriptures into the languages of India was their special service, but it was far from standing alone. They were fully alive to the importance of preparing and sending out men of God to go among the people, and make known to them Jesus as the Saviour of the world. They gladly availed themselves of Europeans, Eurasians, and natives, who seemed qualified for the work by Christian character, zeal for the conversion of the people, and aptness to teach, though, with few exceptions, destitute of any considerable measure of mental culture. Some of these agents had force of character and native talent, and much good and useful work was accomplished by them. One of their number was Mr. Bowley, who afterwards joined the Church Mission, and was for many years located at Chunar. He translated the entire Scriptures into Hindee, and did beside much excellent literary work in the translation and composition of books and tracts. As he had no knowledge of Greek and Hebrew, his translation of the Bible has marked defects, though from his knowledge of Hindee and his good judgment it has also marked excellences. His translation of the New Testament is now largely superseded, but his translation of the Old Testament is the only one yet possessed. The style of his smaller works in Hindustanee, or Urdu, as it is commonly called, is remarkably idiomatic and pleasing.

BAPTIST MISSION IN BENARES.

Missionary work was commenced in Benares by Mr. William Smith, who was sent to it by the Serampore missionaries in 1816. I have already mentioned him as having welcomed me on my arrival. He secured a house for himself at Raj Ghat, the northern boundary of the city, with a crowded population around him, and there till his death he lived with his family, during all the period diligently prosecuting his missionary work. He had been a drummer in the native army, spoke the Hindustanee as his mother tongue, and belonged to the large class who, having European blood in their veins, are professing Christians, but as to their ordinary habits of life are more native than European. Mr. Smith was a man of limited education and of little talent, but of sterling excellence, and secured the respect and love of all classes of the native community by his kindly and consistent life. For years before his death there was in his house the strange spectacle of five generations, and his great-great-grandmother was heard by a friend of mine murmuring, "It looks as if God had forgotten to take me away." Mrs. Smith, who was, I believe, a pure native, was a woman of remarkable energy, and exercised a powerful influence for good on all connected with her. Owing to the unhappy controversy between the Serampore missionaries and the Baptist Missionary Society, and the separation in which it ended, Mr. Smith was left for a time without any salary; but by the establishment of a Eurasian boarding-school his wants were fully supplied. On to old age he moved about among the people, conversing with them, going to their great religious gatherings and distributing tracts and portions of the Scriptures in a very quiet, unostentatious manner, and succeeded, by God's blessing, in bringing a few into the fold of Christ.

CHURCH MISSION IN BENARES.

Among the pioneers of modern missionary work in India the late Bishop Corrie, of Madras, has a high and honoured name. He was one of the small band of Government chaplains who gave themselves heart and soul to the work of diffusing the gospel among the native population. Henry Martyn is the best known of this band, and with him men like Brown, Thomason, and Corrie deserve to be held in everlasting remembrance. Mr. Corrie was, in 1817, the chaplain of the European community in Benares. Previous to that time a rich native, Rajah Jay Narayan, had established and endowed a school in the part of the city inhabited chiefly by Bengalees. This Rajah formed so high an opinion of Mr. Corrie, and of his ability to carry on the school efficiently, that he asked him to undertake its management. Mr. Corrie accepted the offer in the name of the Church Missionary Society, whose sanction to the measure he had obtained, and to it the school was made over by formal deed of gift in 1818. Under the name of Jay Narayan's School, and afterwards of Jay Narayan's College, it has continued down to our day; and it has done much for the education, on Christian principles, of successive generations of Benares youth. A Mr. Adlington was the first head-master, and a short time afterwards a missionary was sent. He was succeeded by others, but owing to their failure of health little was done on to the fourth decade of the century, except the securing of suitable ground and the erection of mission-houses at Segra, in the immediate suburbs of the city on its southwestern side. This place had formerly been noted for the thieves and thugs that infested it. In 1839 the two missionaries at Segra were the Rev. William Smith and the Rev. C. B. Leupolt. Mr. Smith reached India in 1830, and after spending fifteen months in Goruckpore, on the borders of Nepal, was transferred to Benares in 1832. He was joined by Messrs. Knorpp and Leupolt in 1833. The two Church missionaries in Benares in 1839, Messrs. Smith and Leupolt, laboured for many years afterwards with singular devotedness for the spiritual good of the people. As it is invidious to make comparisons, I will not say that they were foremost in the first rank; but all who knew them will bear me out in saying they attained a high place in the first rank of the missionary band.

LONDON MISSION IN BENARES.

The Rev. Matthew Thomson Adam was appointed by the London Missionary Society to Benares in October 1819, and reached his destination in August, 1820. He remained at his post till 1830, when he returned to England, and resigned his connection with the Society. He afterwards went to the United States, where he undertook a pastorate. Mr. Adam was a scholarly and diligent man. He prepared and published a Hindee Grammar, an English and Hindee Dictionary, and some tracts. He secured a site for a mission-house on the border of cantonment towards the city, and erected on it a commodious and substantial structure; and since his day a church, a school-house for girls, and houses for native Christians, have been erected in the mission compound. He also secured a very central site in cantonments for a place of worship for holding English services, and by the liberal help of the English military and civil residents erected on it a building which was called Union Chapel. His services among our countrymen seem to have been greatly valued, but owing to a change in the personnel of the station, a change which is going on incessantly in India, the congregation fell off, Union Chapel was sold, and the money realized by the sale was spent on the erection of a chapel in the city, on a site obtained with great difficulty. Mr. Adam left Benares before this building, erected with a view to native services, could be turned to account. In a brief record of his labours drawn up by himself, he says that he deemed it a high honour to live near such a city, and to testify to his Master by pressing His claims on individuals with whom he had an opportunity of conversing; but he did not think it advisable to attempt the preaching of the gospel in places of public resort. He was at times encouraged by the prospect of persons becoming the followers of Christ, but in every case his hopes were disappointed. No native was baptized by him.

The London Mission of Benares was reinforced in 1826 by the arrival of the Rev. James Robertson. He was a man of linguistic talent, and was full of plans for setting up the standard of the Cross and assailing the idolatry around him. He opened a number of schools in various parts of the city, and organized a system of Bible-reading in the streets. Seven men, chosen from among Hindus, whose sole qualification was ability to read, were appointed to read daily in different parts of the city our Scriptures without note or comment. We have no doubt they took care to tell their hearers that they did their work to please the sahib, and get his pay, but had no intention of accepting the new teaching, and had no wish that others should do so. No other missionary has followed this plan. Mr. Robertson left behind him in MS. translations into Urdu of a part of the Old Testament, which were carefully examined and partly used by Mr. Shurman; but the style was too difficult for any except those who were well acquainted with the Persian language.

The Rev. William Buyers joined the Mission at the beginning of 1832, and Mr. Robertson was carried off by cholera fifteen months afterwards, in his thirty-fourth year. Mr. Buyers was thus left alone, but early in 1834 he was joined by the Rev. J. A. Shurman and the Rev. Robert C. Mather. In 1838 the Rev. W. P. Lyon arrived at Benares, and that year Mr. Mather went to the great commercial Mirzapore, where he established, and for many years afterwards conducted with great efficiency, a very important mission. When I reached Benares I was thus the fourth on its staff, and the seventh from its commencement.

Much good work had been done by the brethren with whom I was to be associated. They had established schools for primary education, but owing to the want of funds all but one had been given up by 1839. They had taken part in preparing tracts and revising the translation of the New Testament in Urdu. A place of worship had been erected, and a few orphans had been gathered. Evangelistic work was being actively prosecuted in the city.

A short time previous to 1839 the Church Mission had undertaken a very benevolent and a very difficult work. In 1837 the North-Western Provinces were desolated by famine. Many thousands perished, everywhere miserable boys and girls were to be seen who had become orphans, or who had been abandoned by their parents. At this terrible crisis missions came forward with the offer of adopting these forsaken children. Fifty were made over to the Church Mission at Benares, and afterwards many more were added to this number. Suitable buildings were speedily erected for their accommodation, and arrangements were made for their education and support. These children were so emaciated that many died within a few days of their being brought to the mission. At the close of 1838 an excellent missionary and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Knorpp, were carried off by a low fever which attacked them while attending to their charge. By the hot weather of 1839 the health of the orphans had greatly improved, and everything was being done which could be done for their temporal and spiritual welfare.

By the time of my arrival, the missionaries of the Church and London Missionary Societies—Mr. Lyon excepted, who had arrived only the preceding year—had fully entered on their work. They had been from seven to five years at their posts, had acquired a good knowledge of the native languages, had all the vigour and hopefulness of early middle life, and were giving themselves zealously to the prosecution of the great work for which they had gone to India.

CHAPTER V.

MY FIRST YEAR IN BENARES.

A stranger passing hurriedly through a country may carry away impressions about its climate, products, and people, which residence for a considerable time would not merely modify but reverse. There are some things of which he can speak with some confidence. The great natural features of a country, its mountains and plains and rivers, do not undergo any marked change, and these may be truly described by the casual visitor. The general aspect of a people, their houses, dress, and look, remain much the same, and of these an accurate observer may give a trustworthy account; but if from what he himself has seen and heard he attempts to give a general estimate of the character of the people and of the state of the country, he is almost sure to fall into great mistakes.

Within the last few years India has become a favourite field for travellers who can without inconvenience spend a few hundred pounds, and be absent from home three or four months. Swift steamers take them quickly to and from Bombay, and railways carry them in a short time from one end of India to the other. They travel at the season when travelling is delightful, and thus see the different countries of that great region in their most attractive form. If they infer what they do not see from what they see, they are sure to make statements utterly discordant with fact. Mr. Wilson, who was sent out to India to put its finances into order after the Mutiny, travelled through the North-Western Provinces in the cold weather, when the country was covered with abundant crops, and was delighted with all he saw. He declared it was the finest country he had ever seen. He returned to Calcutta as the hot weather was setting in, and died in the succeeding rainy season. It is said that some time before his death he pronounced the climate to be the most detestable on the face of the globe. Dr. Norman McLeod was our guest for a very short time in Benares, as he was prosecuting his Indian journey. When driving about on a fine balmy morning, he said, in his genial fashion, "You missionaries often complain of your climate; I only wish we in Scotland had a climate like this." To which I replied, "Ah, doctor, kindly stop with us through our coming seasons; prolong your stay till next November, and then you will be able to speak with authority." The worthy doctor did not take my counsel. His death some time afterwards was attributed to his Indian tour; but if it left in him the seed of disease, the blame rests not on the climate, but on the excessive fatigue caused by overmuch travelling and work.

The case of a person who has lived through a whole year in a country, and has during that period moved among the people, is very different from that of the passing stranger. He knows the climate as a traveller for a few weeks or even months cannot. The seasons during that year may have been more or less abnormal, and yet the resident cannot fail to have obtained that knowledge which enables him to form a notion of what he has in the main to expect every year. He gets a glimpse into the character and peculiarities of the different classes of the population, both native and foreign. He may know little of the language of the country; but if he has an observing mind, and moves freely about, he is constantly receiving information about the people in a degree which he himself does not always realize. If his residence be prolonged for many years, as he looks back to his first year, and remembers its experience, he finds that his views have been greatly enlarged, on many points greatly modified; he is sure that his knowledge is much more accurate and mature; but there is scarcely any subject on which he finds his views entirely reversed.

THE EXPERIENCE OF THE FIRST YEAR.

This, at least, has been my experience. I have a vivid remembrance of my first year in Benares—a much more vivid remembrance than I have of subsequent years, and it would be strange if I did not find that my views on many Indian subjects have been greatly modified, and on all much enlarged; but I do not discover that on any subject there has been a complete reversal.

I have already mentioned that on my voyage from Calcutta to Benares I spent much of my time in the study of the Hindustanee language, commonly called Urdu. Within a week of my arrival I gave myself to it with all the application of which I was capable. I had as my teacher a munshee, who had been long employed by the missionaries of our Society, but who could not speak a sentence in English, though he knew the Roman character well. I was told that his ignorance of English would prove an advantage, as I should on this account be obliged to speak to him, in however broken and limping a fashion, in the language which it was indispensable for me to acquire. We had before us an English and Hindustanee Dictionary, a Hindustanee and English Dictionary, a Hindustanee Grammar, and a book of easy sentences in both languages in the Roman character. At first my teacher and myself had to put things into many forms before reaching mutual intelligibility; but gradually our work became easier, and when two or three months had passed we fairly understood each other—I trying to express myself in Hindustanee, and he performing the much-needed work of correcting my words and idiom. I commenced with a portion of the New Testament, and soon got into some of the classics of the language. The use of the Roman character in the writing of Indian languages had been strongly advocated by Sir Charles Trevelyan, by Dr. Duff, and other men of mark, and was accepted by the majority of the missionaries. Portions of the Scriptures and other books were printed in it. Like all young missionaries, I learned the Persian and Nagree characters, in which the languages of Northern India had always previously been written; but the Roman character was very convenient, and I regretted afterwards I used it so much.

This study of the language was felt to be a foremost duty, and was prosecuted from day to day. This went on for months with little interruption, except what was caused by the serious and continued illness of Mrs. Lyon, which, to the great regret of all their friends, led before the end of the year to the departure of Mr. and Mrs. L. for Europe.

In the seventh or eighth month of my residence at Benares I wrote a short sermon in Hindustanee on John i. 29, and read it at the native service. Within a year I took my part regularly at that service, first using my manuscript, and then extemporizing as I best could.

I must confess I regarded my new linguistic acquisition with much more complacency at the end of my first year than at the end of my fifth or sixth. On my way to Benares, as I have already mentioned, I spent a few hours very pleasantly with Mr. Leslie, the Baptist missionary at Monghyr. I mentioned to him that my friend Mr. Lyon had learned the language, and was preaching in it. Looking me full in the face, he said, to my surprise and chagrin, "Depend on it, Mr. Lyon may use the words of the language, but no one can be said to acquire it in a year." I thought this a hard saying, but years afterwards I was forced to feel its truth. I had in a year got such a glimpse into the Hindustanee and Hindee languages as to have some conceptions of their nature, to know their tone, and to bring them into partial use; but I had a very limited notion of their nice distinctions, their peculiar idioms, and their vast vocabulary. I cannot say that the opinion on this subject I formed in my first year was entirely reversed by my after experience, but it was largely modified.

STUDY OF NATIVE LANGUAGE AND CHARACTER.

While studying the native language, I felt myself studying the native character as well. My teacher was very patient, correcting my mistakes—mistakes, I must confess, often repeated—without allowing even the slightest surprise to appear in his countenance. He did not smile at blunders at which, when I knew better, I myself heartily laughed. When I showed the slightest impatience at being checked he at once allowed me to go on as I liked, though, as I afterwards knew, I needed to be corrected. He was loud in praise of my progress, declaring that I would soon surpass all my predecessors. In my intercourse with him I had illustrations of the patience, the courtesy, and also the flattering, cozening character of the people, when dealing with those by whom they think they can be benefited. The impressions of native character thus obtained were amply affirmed by the experience of after years.

This munshee was well acquainted with our Scriptures. He belonged to the Writer caste, and had from his early years been in contact with Europeans. He was ready for conversation on religious subjects, and had much to say in favour of the philosophical notions which underlie Hinduism. Three or four years afterwards he seemed to awake all at once to the claims of Christ as the Saviour of the world, and under this impulse he openly appeared in a native newspaper as the assailant of Hinduism and the advocate of Christianity, which led to the hope that he was to avow himself, by baptism, a follower of the Lord. But he became alarmed at what he had done; he could not bear the reproaches of his friends, and he fell back into the ranks of his people. Though he had ceased to be my teacher I had opportunities of seeing him, and I tried to speak to his conscience, to his conviction of the Divine origin of the gospel. The last time I spoke to him he said, with marked emphasis, "There is no use in speaking to me. Let Hinduism be false or true, I am determined to live and die in it as my fathers have done!" His case was that of many with whom every Indian missionary is brought into contact.

During this year I was introduced into the methods in which evangelistic work was conducted. In addition to attending the services of the Lord's Day, I went now and then with my brethren to the city. We had at that time two little chapels in good positions, at the doors of which the people were first addressed, and were then invited to enter that they might hear the new teaching more fully expounded. There was, of course, nothing of the staidness or quietness of a Christian congregation. The speaker was often interrupted; questions, sometimes very irrelevant questions, were asked; and the people came and went, so that those who were present at the commencement were seldom present at the close. During the year I saw the principal places in Benares—its main streets and markets, its temples and mosques; and thus formed some idea of the great city, where for many years afterwards it was my privilege to labour in the gospel of Christ.

THE LANGUAGES OF NORTHERN INDIA.

The work of the missionary in Northern India would be greatly simplified if he had to learn only one language. He has to learn the two I have named, the Hindustanee and the Hindee. The Hindustanee arose from intercourse between the Muhammadan invaders and the people they had subdued. It is written in the Persian or Arabic character, and draws its vocabulary mainly from the Persian and Arabic languages. It is the language of law, of commerce, and of ordinary life to many millions. The Hindee in its various dialects, some of which almost rise to the dignity of languages, is the vernacular of the vast Hindu population of North-Western India. It rests mainly on the Sanscrit, and is written in the Sanscrit or Deonagree character. In some of the most popular books the languages are so strangely combined that it is impossible to give any definite name to the language used. An acquaintance with these languages is indispensable to missionary efficiency in Northern India, but it is very difficult to attain marked excellence in both.

CHAPTER VI.

THE FIRST YEAR—SOCIETY AND CLIMATE.

A very brief residence at Benares led me to see the great difference between the society to which I had come and that which I had left. The European community formed a mere handful of the population, and was almost exclusively formed of officials, with all the peculiarities of a class privileged by office. We had some two hundred European artillerymen with their officers, of a regiment paid and controlled by the East India Company; three native regiments officered by Europeans; three or four members of the Civil Service, charged with the administration of the city and district; one English merchant, and two or three English shopkeepers. I now learned for the first time the difference in rank between Queen's and Company's military officers. The Queen's officer regarded himself as of a higher grade. Members of the Civil Service and Company's officers met on terms of social equality; but the Civilians looked on themselves as of a higher order, as the aristocracy of the land, and the assumed superiority put a strain to some degree on social intercourse. The persons sent out from this country for the administration of India are called Covenanted Civilians, as they bear a commission from the Queen; while those engaged for administrative work by the Indian Government are called Uncovenanted. The former class continue to have a great official advantage over the latter; but forty years ago there was a great social inequality which has in a measure ceased, where these uncovenanted servants are English gentlemen, as they often are. English merchants were regarded as in society; but shopkeepers, however large their establishment, were deemed entirely outside the pale, except for strictly business purposes. This was partly accounted for by European shopkeepers having been previously stewards of ships, or soldiers who had received their discharge. Missionaries were looked on as sufficiently in society to be admissible everywhere, and were treated courteously by their European brethren when they met, though only a few desired their intercourse.

EUROPEANS AND NATIVES.

As to the people of the land, both Hindu and Muhammadan, I discerned at once, what I might have fully anticipated, that between them and us there was a national, social, and religious gulf. Some were in our houses as servants. We had to do with them in various ways; we could not go out without seeing them on every side. There was on the part of many a courteous bearing towards each other; there was in many cases a kindly feeling; but the barriers which separated us could not be for any length of time forgotten. I speedily saw that some Europeans looked with contempt on the natives, as essentially of a lower order in creation; but the better class of Europeans, the higher in position and education, as a rule, regarded them with respect, and treated them not only with justice but with kindness. Native servants received as kind treatment as servants do in well-conducted families in our own country, and in many cases repaid this kindness by devoted attachment and the efficient discharge of the work entrusted to them. When native gentlemen came in contact with Europeans of the higher class, all the honour was accorded to them to which by their position they were entitled. Even in this case there were national and religious differences, which effectually prevented the intimacy which is often maintained where such differences do not exist.

EURASIANS.

Within the first year I got an insight into a large and growing class, who were connected with both Europeans and natives, and yet did not belong to either. I refer to persons of mixed blood; some almost as dark, in many cases altogether as dark, as ordinary natives—many of these being descendants of Portuguese; others, again, so fair that their Indian blood is scarcely observed; some in the lowest grade of society, very poor and very ignorant; and others, with many intermediate links, most respectable members of the community in character, knowledge, position, and means. All these, whatever may be their rank, are Christians by profession, and they dress so far as they can after the European fashion; but the poorer class, in food and accommodation live very much as natives do, and mainly speak the native language. The people of mixed blood are called by different names—Eurasians, East Indians, and not infrequently by a name to which they most rightly object, Half-caste.

I was surprised and sorry to observe the feeling with which many Europeans regarded this class. They were looked down upon as of an inferior grade, who, whatever might be their character or position, were not entitled to rank with Europeans. In the dislike of natives shown by some Europeans there was something to remind one of the American feeling in regard to colour, though of a much milder type; but I was not prepared for the degree in which the feeling prevailed in reference to Eurasians, though I might have been had I remembered that the slightest tinge of African blood, a tinge to many eyes not perceptible, had been considered in America a fatal taint. I speedily observed the effect the feeling had on Eurasians in producing an unpleasant sensitiveness, and impairing the confidence and respect indispensable to social intercourse.

Since that time I have understood the causes of this feeling much better than I could have then done. The most candid and thoughtful of the class will allow that as a community they labour under great disadvantages. Though they have native blood in their veins they are entirely separate from natives in those things to which natives attach the highest value; and though by the profession of Christianity, by the adoption of European habits so far as circumstances allow, and by the use of the English language, they draw to Europeans, yet they are forced to feel they do not belong to them. They occupy an awkward middle position, and the knowledge that they do leads to unpleasant grating. Then they have not had the bracing which comes from residence in a Christian land. Though proud of their Christian name and profession, they have been injuriously affected by the moral atmosphere of their surroundings. The lower their social position, the closer has been their connection with the lower class of natives, and the more hurtful have been the influences under which they have come. Eurasians are noted for their excellent penmanship, and a great number from generation to generation have found employment in Government offices, the greater number as mere copyists, but a few as confidential clerks and accountants, whose services have been highly appreciated by their official superiors. A considerable number have risen to important offices in the administration of the country. An increasing number are able to take their place in every respect abreast of their European brethren. Individuals have gone to England, and have succeeded in getting by competition into the Covenanted Civil Service. The class has been steadily growing for years in intelligence and character; and as the members of their families are enjoying educational advantages to a greater extent than at any previous period, there is every reason to hope progress in the future will be still more rapid than in the past. The distinction between them and persons of pure European blood will thus become less and less a barrier to social intercourse; they will be delivered from the unpleasantness the barrier has often caused, their character will grow in strength, and they will become increasingly fitted for exerting a happy influence on the native community. In the case of individuals the distinction is now practically ignored. There are no more honoured and honourable persons in India than some who belong to this class. There have always been devoted Christians among them, and of late years an increasing number have come under the power of Divine grace.

It has been often remarked that one of the most pleasing traits of native society is reproduced among Eurasians—the tie of kinship prompting those who are in better circumstances to help their needy relatives, often to the giving of large pecuniary aid, not unfrequently to the taking of them into their houses. In the humbler portions of the community there is often seen a patriarchal household like that so often seen in native society.

THE CLIMATE OF NORTHERN INDIA.

The new-comer's experience of climate prepares him for what he has to expect during his future residence. We have three marked seasons in the North-Western Provinces, the one melting gradually into the other—the hot season beginning in March and ending in June, the rainy season beginning with July and ending in October, and the cold weather beginning with November and ending in February. The seasons may thus be described in a general way, but in fact every year differs somewhat from others, as they do in our own country. The hot weather is sensibly felt before March begins, and the heat of March is far less than that of the succeeding months. The first burst of the rains is often before the middle of June, but after that burst, called the "little rainy season," it is not uncommon to have a spell of very hot sunny weather. In some years, indeed, there is so much weather of this kind during what is called the rainy season, that the heat is most intense, and the crops are burnt up. Towards the end of September there is commonly the last great outpour of rain, and as October advances there is the cooling freshness of the approaching cold weather, with enough of heat in the day-time to tell us it has not quite let go its grasp. December and January are our coldest months. In England, after an unpropitious summer, the remark is often made, "We have had no summer!" and in the same manner in India, when the temperature has been high in the cold season, and we have not had the expected bracing, we say, "We have had no winter!" Yet as in our own country, so in India; we have our marked seasons, though we cannot be sure of the weather at any particular period.

As India is an immense region, a great continent, with every variety of scenery, with plains extending hundreds of miles, and vast stretches of forests, with table-lands and lofty mountains, with land of every description from barren sand to the richest alluvial soil, the climate and products of its different countries are so different, that the statements made about one region, however correct, when applied to the whole are utterly misleading. I have been describing the seasons of the North-Western Provinces; and yet, as Benares is in the lower part of these provinces, its climate is considerably different from that of the country farther north and west. The farther north we travel the longer and colder is the cold season, and as a rule the hotter and briefer is the hot season. On one occasion the heat was so great in Benares in March that we found the night punkah pleasant; but on reaching Delhi, nearly six hundred miles distant, a few days afterwards, instead of seeking a night punkah we were thankful to have blankets to keep ourselves warm.

THE HOT SEASON.

I have a vivid recollection of my experiences of the climate during my first year. During our voyage on the Ganges the heat during the day was like that of a cloudless July in England, and at night it was pleasantly cool, the wood of the flat speedily giving off the heat it had taken in during the day, and the flow of the river contributing to our comfort. Reaching Benares as April was setting in, I speedily felt I was getting into the experience of an Indian hot season. The doors were opened before dawn to let in whatever coolness might come with the morning, and before eight they were shut to keep out the heat of the day. The lower part of the door was of wood, and the upper part of glass. Outside the doors were heavy wooden blinds, made after the fashion of Venetian blinds, the upper part of which were opened to let in from the verandah the degree of light absolutely necessary with the least possible degree of heat. No prisoner in his cell is more excluded from an outside view than we were in our rooms during the day in the hot season. There was a remarkable contrast between the outside glare and the inside dimness, so that a person coming from without could not on entering see anything. The prevailing wind is from the west. There is enough in the morning to show the direction from which it is coming. It rises as the day advances; by two or three it blows with great strength, raising clouds of dust, and lulls towards evening. This wind is cool and bracing in the cold weather, but as the season advances it becomes warm, and by May its heat resembles the blast of a furnace. It every now and then gives place to the east wind, which is not nearly so hot, but is so enervating that the hot wind is greatly preferred. During the day we sit under the punkah, a great wooden fan suspended from the roof with great flapping fringes. This is pulled by a coolie, sometimes in the adjoining room, but when it can be arranged in the verandah outside, who has in his hand a rope attached to the punkah, which is brought to him by a small aperture in the wall, through which a piece of thin bamboo is inserted to make the friction as little as possible. When the west wind is blowing freshly, it is brought with most pleasant coolness into the house through platted screens of scented grass, on which water is continually thrown outside. For years machines resembling the fanners so much used by farmers in former days, with scented grass on each side and a hut of scented grass over them, on which water is continually thrown, with wheels turned round by hand labour, have been brought largely into use. These machines are appropriately called "Thermantidotes."

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.

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.

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.

BATHING GHAT, BENARES.

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.

[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.

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.

A JEWELLER AT WORK.

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.

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.

[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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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—

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.

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.

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.

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 régime 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

MELA AT ALLAHABAD.

Towards the end of 1840 I went to Allahabad, seventy miles north-west of Benares, to take part in evangelistic work at a great mela held there annually, as I thought I might be able to render some help to my brethren. Allahabad, called Pryag by the Hindus, is at the confluence of the Ganges and the Jumna, and all such places are deemed sacred. It is said there is a third river, the Suruswatee, once visible but now underground, and the place is therefore called Tribeni—the threefold stream. Pryag has been for many years a famous place of pilgrimage, and every year a mela is held, which is at its height for some seven days, but is kept on for weeks. It is held in the cold weather, December or January; and, next to Hurdwar, where the Ganges issues from the mountains, draws a greater crowd than any other mela in Northern India. Bathing at Tribeni is peculiarly meritorious in some years, and in these there is a vastly increased attendance. Except on the occasion of eclipses there is no such gathering even at Benares; but very many who go to Allahabad, before returning to their home, often a distant home, pay a visit to the sacred city.

At one time the Government imposed a tax on pilgrims to this mela, but it was taken off in 1838 or 1839.

The mela is held below the fort, on the land lying between the Ganges and the Jumna at their point of meeting, on a great stretch of sand, which is covered in the rainy season. In December and January the west wind blows freshly over the place, and as there is incessant movement, soon all present are so covered with dust that they look like millers.

EVANGELISTIC SERVICES.

A gathering like this at Allahabad is always embraced for evangelistic purposes. Missionaries and native brethren are thankful for the opportunity afforded them of preaching the Gospel to many who have come from places to which no missionary has ever gone. The missionaries at Allahabad gladly welcome and hospitably entertain the brethren of other missions who join them at these annual gatherings. Large tents are put up, with the front open towards the road, and there the preachers from morning till evening, preacher succeeding preacher, address the people, while hearers succeed hearers. A few individuals stop a long time, as if rapt up in what they hear, as if they were drinking in every word; others stop a considerable time; while many, after looking on and gaping for a few minutes, hold on their way. Every now and then questions are asked, objections are started, and a discussion ensues. When the questions are in any measure serious and reasonable, much benefit results from such discussion. The interest of the people is quickened, and opportunity is afforded for explaining, defending, and enforcing the truth as it is in Jesus. Sometimes the questioner is neither serious nor reasonable, and then the danger is of the discussion turning into a wrangle, which does more harm than good. Prominent transgressors in this line are the Pundas, specially interested in the mela, who do all in their power to set the people against us. At this first great gathering which I attended—I found it was the case afterwards on similar occasions—there was less mere idle discussion than there is where the missionary carries on his work from day to day. In addition to preaching-stations, there were bookstalls where portions of the Scriptures and Christian tracts and books were disposed of. On to the time of this mela there was a large gratuitous distribution among persons who from their look and manner were deemed suitable recipients; but for many years it has been found best to charge a small price, without adopting a hard and fast line against giving away.

It is very difficult, rather impossible, to estimate the effect produced by evangelistic services on such occasions. They have not been fruitless as to conversion, but if we look simply at results of this kind it must be acknowledged they are very limited. Instances have occurred of persons having been so impressed that they have followed missionaries to places far away from Allahabad; but their courage has failed them, and they have after a short time disappeared. One advantage is secured—the Gospel is kept before the minds of the people, and some knowledge of it is carried to the remotest parts of the land. Books and tracts are taken to places which missionaries have never visited. It cannot be doubted that such services have their part in preparing the people for the new and better state of things which every Christian longs for and expects.

At Allahabad I had an opportunity of observing the peculiarities of a great Hindu mela. The morning was devoted to bathing and the performance of religious rites. As the forenoon came on, the merchants of every class set out their wares in tents erected on sites appointed for them, with their opening, so far as possible, away from the side exposed to the wind. Goods of every description, useful and ornamental, cloth, grain, cooking vessels, trinkets, and sweetmeats, were exhibited to tempt purchasers, and buying and selling went on as vigorously as if the people had come together solely for that end. Crowds were in constant motion, going from place to place to see what could be seen, and stopping where there was any special attraction, or, as happens in our own crowded streets, stopping where a few were incidentally collected. By the afternoon, singers, experts in tricks, and show-people of every description, commenced their operations, and were sure of admiring crowds. The merry-go-rounds were largely patronized. Hour after hour was thus spent.

COOKING AND MERRYMAKING.

A few cooked food early in the day, but the vast majority staved off hunger—in some cases by partaking of cakes reserved from the previous evening meal; the greater number, I believe, by partaking of sweetmeats made with flour, sugar, and melted butter, of which an enormous quantity was offered for sale. As evening came on they scattered themselves over the ground lying between the Ganges and the Jumna, and set to the preparation of their one proper meal for the twenty-four hours. The plain was alight with their fires. Nothing can be simpler than their cooking. They make what they call a choola, an elevation in the shape of a horseshoe of a half-foot or a little more of moistened mud, or stone if they can get it. If the traveller be of a respectable caste, he takes care to make no use of the choolas which former travellers have left. They may have been set up by impure hands, and so he makes one for himself. It is convenient to have two such choolas, that they may put on the one a small pot with rice or dal, a kind of pea, in it, and on the other a girdle for bannocks of unleavened dough. Cooking is, of course, largely women's work, but men are as expert at it as women, and are continually seen preparing their meal. I have never travelled with a native who seemed to think he was called to an unusual or unpleasant work, when required to cook his food. All he needs is a couple of small cooking vessels, which he carries with him, a little fuel, good water, meal, and a spot on which he may set up his humble hearth. I have seen this work done by pundits, learned men, who showed no indication of shrinking from it as if it trenched on their dignity. Indeed the pundit in a party that has few facilities for cooking has, as I remember well in one instance, this honour conferred on him on account of his caste being higher than that of those who are with him. All of every caste can eat what he has prepared, but he helps himself first, and eats apart.

To return to the mela. The evening is well advanced before the repast is over. We might suppose that after the stir of the day all would be ready for sleep, and no doubt many lie down and sleep soundly; but quite a number are too eager for the enjoyment of the fair to give themselves to rest. Singing, drumming, and boisterous mirth go on till the small hours of the morning, as I have known to my unpleasant experience—not at Allahabad, but elsewhere when I have been in their close neighhourhood.

How do the vast multitudes who attend a mela, such as that of Allahabad, dispose of themselves at night? Their arrangements are of the simplest kind. Many wrap themselves in their sheet or blanket, if they have one, and lie down on the ground without any idea they are enduring hardship. Others rig out a temporary tent with sticks and a blanket over it, creep under this, and deem themselves luxuriously accommodated. This gathering at Allahabad is in the cold weather, and if the nights be very cold, as they sometimes are at that season, no doubt many suffer severely. Every now and then heavy rain falls, and then, as may be supposed, the suffering is extreme. Sanitary precautions are of the utmost importance where such vast crowds meet and remain together for days, and these are taken by the authorities. They cannot, however, provide against suffering caused by bad weather. Occasionally cholera breaks out, and then the scenes witnessed are appalling. At the mela of 1840 the weather was good, and there was no indication of disease among the people. Some years afterwards we were travelling towards Allahabad at an early period of the mela, and met crowds fleeing from it on account of the outbreak of cholera. Here and there we saw corpses at the side of the road, occasionally without one person near, at other times with a weeping group around, who were preparing to carry off the body to some rivulet to have it burnt, or, as it often happens, to have it scorched, and then left to be devoured by jackals and vultures. Some had held on their way with weary limbs till the fell disease seized them, and then they succumbed, lay down, and died. We remember stopping where a young man was dying, with two or three sorrowful ones around him. We spoke to him, but got no reply. His glazed eye told he was beyond all human help.