Round the World
by
Andrew Carnegie
Part 3 out of 5
up to one's expectations.
About one thousand men and women are employed upon this tapioca
plantation. Married Hindoos get twenty cents per day, but the
greater number are Javanese unmarried men, who get only sixteen
cents; both find themselves. The Javanese are Mohammedans from
Java _en route_ to Mecca as a religious duty. They come here
and work and save for two years to get sufficient to pay their
passage and return to this point, when they work a year more for
funds to carry them home. How vital is the creed which brings its
adherents to such sacrifice! This drive gave us an excellent
opportunity of seeing just how the people live in the country.
Dress is confined to the rag worn about the loins, except that the
women wear in addition a small cloth over their shoulders. The
children wear nothing whatever, but we saw none that were not
ornamented by cheap jewelry in the most extraordinary manner.
The subject of clothes, as we all know from the days of "Sartor
Resartus," lies very closely at the roots of civilization. I think
every thoughtful person must admit that here the Heathen Chinee
shows that he has reached the best solution of that annoying
question. The every-day dress of the Chinaman is to-day just what
it was thousands of years ago. As there is no going out or coming
in of fashion, he wears his clothes till they can be worn no
longer. The heavy-overcoats which distress Americans and are a
weight even to the Englishman, our celestial friend escapes by
having three or four light coats all of one pattern and weight. It
is a one, two, or a three-coat day, according to temperature.
Again and above all he escapes the horrid starch entirely, neither
shirts nor collars nor cuffs, sometimes like thin sheets of iron,
irritating his skin.
Vandy and I seriously resolved to-day that we would never again
tolerate a starched thing about us; no matter what others did, we
would discard the vile custom and be free. In revising this I am
bound to admit our weakness: neither Vandy nor I have been strong
enough to contend against our mothers. I don't know exactly what
Vandy's experience was, but I know he fell soon after our return.
For my part I fought it out awhile and tried many ways to win; but
my flannel and frieze underwear which I brought from China soon
became unwearable, I was informed, from shrinkage, then they had
broken into holes, and so on. They were finally missed from my
wardrobe, and I compromised by stipulating that I should return to
the shirt and collars and cuffs, and agreed they might be all pure
white--provided that little or no starch should be used--this is
an improvement, but linen is the most uncomfortable material
known, used as we use it.
Vandy and I when in the East reduced the time for bathing and
dressing in the morning to seven minutes. Of course, we have long
since given up the folly of shaving. How one envies the man of the
East who has but four articles to slip on, and no pins required:
socks and low shoes (no lacing), one; breeches, two; undershirt,
three; coat, four; and there he is, ready for breakfast. The coat
buttons close to the chin, and has a small upright collar, and a
watch-pocket outside; no cuffs, collars or neckties. Why does not
some born reformer of our sex devote his life to giving his fellow
man such additional happiness in life? Hundreds waste their
energies upon objects which, if accomplished, would not be half as
fruitful.
Here is a description of a woman's jewelry, as taken from life by
Vandy: lobes of ears pierced with holes large enough to allow
one's thumb to be inserted; above these holes two small gold-color
rivets in each ear; in each nostril two gold pendants, inserted by
screwing in; through the centre of the nose a large silver ring;
on each wrist four bracelets; higher up the arm more rings; around
her neck a necklace; around each ankle a large silver ring; and
around her big toe and the next, on both feet, were rings. The
smallest children wore many similar jewels. Upon these every penny
they can save is squandered, and to secure them they are content
to live on a little boiled rice and fish--a bamboo hut of one
apartment their only home, and a piece of cotton cloth their
wardrobe.
We had the pleasure of meeting, at Major Studer's, Mr. Hornaday, a
young gentleman who travels for Professor Ward, of Rochester, New
York, whose museum is well known the world over. Mr. Hornaday's
department is to keep the Professor's collections complete, and if
there be a rare bird, beast, or reptile on the globe, he is bound to
capture specimens. He had just returned from spending four months
among the savages of Borneo, where alone a supply of orang-outangs
could be obtained. He returned with forty-two of these links, shot
mostly by himself. He came one day upon two very young ones, and
these he has brought here alive. They are suggestively human in
their ways, and two better-behaved, more affectionate babies are
rarely to be met with. Let no anti-Darwinian study young
orang-outangs if he wishes to retain his present notions. The
museum, Mr. Hornaday is advised, is now short of dugongs, and he is
off for Australia next steamer to lay in a supply. The recital of
his adventures is extremely interesting, and I predict that some day
a book from him will have a great run.
What an interest is awakened by one who is able to tell stories of
his own experience! No wonder that Othello won Desdemona with the
recital of his adventures. He was the hero who had been the actor
in all the scenes he depicted. Listening to Mr. Hornaday was a
source of rare pleasure to-night. His chief regret is that he
missed, during his visit to Borneo, the largest mias ever seen on
the island. The natives discovered a troop, all of which made off
except the leader. He showed fight, but soon ran up a high tree,
from which the native weapons were unable to dislodge him. He was
beyond their reach and there he sat. It was resolved to cut down
the tree and capture him as he fell; but as soon as they came to
close quarters with the monster, he proved so powerful, fierce,
and courageous that the natives ran away and he got off.
Mr. Hornaday reached the spot just too late. "Why didn't you send
for me? Didn't you know my rifle would have reached him?" he
asked. They gave him no reason for their conduct, but he suspected
that they feared he would not have paid them had he made the
capture. Mr. Hornaday is confident this mias exceeded the height
stated by Wallace as the maximum.
Mr. Hornaday was more successful with the largest tiger shot in
India for years. He was out after cheetahs, and having no more
expectation of meeting with the nobler game than of encountering a
lion, had not his tiger rifle with him. On coming to the banks of
a small stream he was greatly surprised to see a tiger's fresh
footmarks--a big foot, too. Making a sign to his attendants to
stand motionless, he glanced up the stream, then down, and saw,
not far from him, leisurely strolling along the edge of the creek,
seeking a convenient ford, the largest tiger he had ever laid eyes
upon, although he had shot many. "Shall I shoot with this gun?" he
thought. "If I miss he will certainly be upon us. He will attack
one of my colored attendants first, anyhow, and I'll get a chance
to reload. I'll do it!" A moment after, the monster, having found
a ford to his liking, turned his head and looked cautiously down
stream before entering the water. Finding all quiet in that
direction, he turned to glance up stream. For this moment Mr.
Hornaday had waited. There is one spot only to hit a tiger--right
between the eyes. He fired and the beast fell. No other shot was
fired, for holes spoil a skin. The animal writhed for several
hours, no one daring to approach him, until he finally sank
exhausted upon the sand. I think it was fifteen pounds Mr.
Hornaday received from Government for this exploit. I have secured
the skin of this very beast, properly preserved, full head, open
mouth, glaring eyeballs, and all, and I am ready to match tiger
skins with any one.
In the absence of other commercial intelligence, I may quote the
market in Mr. Hornaday's line: Tigers are still reported "lively;"
orang-outangs "looking up;" pythons show but little animation at
this season of the year; proboscis monkeys, on the other hand,
continue scarce; there is quite a run on lions, and kangaroos are
jumped at with avidity; elephants heavy; birds of paradise
drooping; crocodiles are snapped up as offered, while dugongs
bring large prices. What is pig metal to this?
The climate of Singapore, as of all places so near the Equator,
would be intolerable but for the dense clouds which obscure the
sun and save us from its fierce rays; but occasionally it breaks
through for a few minutes, and we are in a bath of perspiration
before we know it. No one can estimate the difference in the power
of the sun here as compared with it in New York. Straw hats afford
no protection whatever; we are compelled to wear thick white
helmets of pith, and use a white umbrella lined with green cloth,
and yet can walk only a few steps when the sun is not hid without
feeling that we must seek the shade. The horses are unable to go
more than ten miles in twenty-four hours, and our carriage and
pair are hired with the understanding that this is not to be
exceeded. Nothing could exist near the line if the intense heat
did not cause evaporation upon a gigantic scale. The clouds so
formed are driven upward by the streams of colder air from both
sides, condensation then takes place, and showers fall every few
hours in the region of Singapore.
One is not only in a new earth here, but he has a new sky as well.
As the tropics have nothing to compare with our more brilliant
colors in the vegetable world, so the southern sky has no stars to
equal ours. Indeed, with the exception of the four in the Southern
Cross, two in the Centaur, and two or three others, there is no
star of the first magnitude to be seen, and the constellations are
poor compared with those of our splendid northern skies.
Shakespeare's
". . . inlaid with patines of bright gold,"
must seem hyperbole to the Australian. I saw the Southern Cross
many nights while at sea, and it is certainly very fine, as far as
four stars can make a cross; for, as usual, much is left to the
imagination. It is really not a cross at all. These long ocean
trips furnish the best opportunity for observing the stars, and I
have rubbed up my early knowledge on the subject so far as to be
able to point out all the constellations and many of the principal
stars; but away down here the North Star even is not to be seen,
and we have to steer by Orion's belt if the compass varies.
* * * * *
TUESDAY, January 14.
We left Singapore to-day at three P.M. by the English mail steamer
Teheran, parting with very sincere regret from Major and Miss
Studer, to whom we had been so much indebted for our week's
happiness. These partings from kind friends on our way round the
world are the sad incidents of the trip. People are so kind, and
they do so much to render our stay agreeable, that we become
warmly attached, and have many excursions planned, when some
morning up goes the flag, boom goes the signal gun, "Mail steamer
arrived!" all aboard at sunset! and farewell, friends! We see them
linger on the pier as we sail away, good-byes are waved, and we
fade from each other's sight; but it will be long ere many faces
vanish from our memory.
While still gazing Singaporeward I am recalled to the stern duties
of life. These two baby orang-outangs I told you of are going to a
naturalist in Madras. What a present! and Vandy and I have
promised to do what we can in the way of attendance upon them. The
butcher comes to ask me when they are to be fed, and how, and
what. This is a poser. I am not up in the management of orang-
outangs, but Vandy has skill in almost everything of this kind; at
least he is safer than I, there being a good deal of the incipient
doctor about Vandy, and I search for him in this emergency. The
fact is, while I have had varied experiences in the matter of
delicate charges of many kinds, these have generally been of our
own species--a youngster to be taken home to his parents, a
dowager lady afraid of the cars--even a blushing damsel to be
transported across the Atlantic to the arms of her _fiancé_
has been entrusted to me before this, but this charge is decidedly
out of my line. These fearfully human-looking, human-acting brutes
furnish much amusement to the passengers; but at first every lady
whom we took forward to watch them was compelled to run away
laughing and exclaiming, "Oh, they are so much like babies! It's
just horrid to see these nasty, hairy things carry on so!"
Confirmation strong, I suppose, of our kinship, so do riot let us
neglect our poor relations even if the connection be somewhat
remote. Bananas are their favorite delicacy, but this morning not
even that fruit could tempt them. I gave one to the smaller of the
two, but it would not take it. Then I tried the larger one. He
took it in his paw, peeled it at one end and put it to his lips,
then looking up at me with a sad, puzzled expression, dropped his
prize, and resting his head on his paw laid slowly down on the
straw, telling us all as plainly as could be that he was sea-sick.
Such was indeed the case; but in a few hours the sea fell and he
was as sprightly as ever. Monkeys move spasmodically, by jerks as
it were; not so these dignified, stately creatures: they are as
deliberate in all their actions as staid, sober people. One day a
passenger had offered a banana to the little one, but as it put
forth its paw, withdrew it. The wee thing stood this several
times, and at last laid down on its face and cried like a child--a
wicked cry; nor would it be comforted, the banana when offered
being petulantly rejected. They are much too human.
We called at Penang, an island on the western shore of the
Peninsula, also belonging to Great Britain, and had time to drive
around the settlement. The place is not to be compared to
Singapore in size, but vegetation is even more luxuriant. It was
very hot, and we envied the governor his residence on a mountain
peak eighteen hundred feet above the sea, where, it was reported,
fires are actually required at some seasons night and morning.
Penang exports large quantities of tin, and we took on a lot for
New York. This valuable production seems about the only metal
America has now to import, but some lucky explorer is no doubt
destined to find it in immense quantities by and by. Having got
everything else, it doesn't stand to reason that America should
not be favored with this also. Nothing unusual occurred upon our
run across the Bay of Bengal. Even Vandy enjoyed the sea voyage
this time; something he had never before done in his life, nor
ever done since. It was smooth and quiet steaming all the way to
Ceylon. I had been humming "Greenland's Icy Mountains" for several
days previously, about all that I knew of Ceylon's isle being
contained in one of the verses of that hymn, which I used to sing
at missionary meetings, when a minister who had seen the heathen
was stared at as a prodigy.
And indeed the "spicy breezes blew soft o'er Ceylon's isle" as we
approached it in the moonlight. We found Galle quite a pretty,
quaint little port, and remained there one night, taking the coach
next morning for Colombo, the capital. The drive of sixty miles to
the railway which extends to Colombo, seventeen miles beyond, is
one of the best treats we have yet had. The road is equal to one
of our best park avenues, as indeed are all the roads we saw in
Ceylon; from end to end it skirts the rocky shores, passing
through groves of cocoa and betel-nut trees, and dotted on each
side by the huts of natives at work at some branch of the cocoanut
business. Every part of the nut is utilized; ropes and mats are
made from the covering of the shell, oil from the kernel, and the
milk is drank fresh at every meal. These trees do not thrive
except near the coast, the salt air laden with moisture being
essential for their growth, but they grow quite down to the edge
of the sea. The natives have been attracted to this main road, and
from Galle to Colombo it is almost one continuous village; there
is no prettier sea-shore in the world, nor a more beautiful surf.
Every few miles we come upon large numbers of fishermen drawing in
their nets, which are excessively long and take in several acres
of sea in their sweep. An artist who would come to Ceylon and
devote himself to depicting "the fishers of Ceylon's isle" (how
well that sounds! and a good title is half the battle) would make
a reputation and a fortune. I am quite sure there is no more
picturesque sight than the drawing of their nets, several hundred
men being engaged in the labor, while the beach is alive with
women and children in bright colors anxiously watching the result.
The dress of the Ceylonese women is really pretty: a skirt closely
fitting the figure, and a tight jacket over the shoulders--all of
fine, pure white cotton cloth or muslin and quite plain, with
neither frill, tuck, flounce, nor anything of the kind. Necklaces
and ear-rings are worn, but I am glad to say the nose in Ceylon
seems to be preserved from the indignity of rings. The men's dress
is rather scanty, their weakness being a large tortoise-shell
comb, which every one wears; it reaches from ear to ear, and the
hair is combed straight back and confined by it. Women are denied
this crowning ornament, and must content themselves with a pin in
the hair, the head of which, however, is highly ornamented. The
Buddhist priests form a strange contrast in their dress, which
consists of a yellow plaid, generally of silk, wrapped around the
body and over the shoulders.
I asked our Ceylonese guide to-day whether he had ever heard of
our most popular missionary hymn. "Here is the verse," I said,
"about your beautiful isle ":
"What though the spicy breezes
Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle,
Though every prospect pleases,
And only man is vile!
In vain with lavish kindness,
The gifts of God are strewn;
The heathen, in his blindness,
Bows down to wood and stone."
"What do you think of that description?" I asked. He said he
thought "the writer was a fool," and asked if any one in my
country believed that there was a man, woman, or child in Ceylon
who did not know better than to bow down to any power but God.
"Yes," I said, "I once believed it myself, and millions believe it
to-day, and good boys and girls with us save their pennies to send
missionaries to tell these heathen who worship idols how very
wrong and foolish it is to do so, and how very angry the true God
is to have anything worshipped but himself." He said ours must be
a very curious country, and he should like to visit it and see
such queer people. I gave him my address and promised, if he would
come to see me, to take him to a great missionary meeting where he
would see the best and most religious people, all greatly
concerned about the idolaters of Ceylon.
The truth is there is scarcely in all the world a human being so
low in the scale as not to know that the object he sees is only
the symbol of the invisible power. What the cross is to the
Christian the idol is to the other, and it is nothing more. The
worship of both is to the Unknown beyond. I did my best to soothe
the wounded spirit of our guide by explaining the necessities of
poetic license. Still he would have it that Bishop Heber had
wronged his beloved Ceylon and did not know what he was writing
about.
The religion of Ceylon is Buddhism; indeed it is now the most
strictly Buddhist country in the world. One condition of the
cession of the sovereignty to Great Britain was that this religion
should be held inviolable with its rights and privileges, its
monasteries and temples and all pertaining thereto. In the
language of the greatest European authority, "although government
support is no longer given to it, its pure and simple doctrines
live in the hearts of the people and are the noblest monument to
its founder Gautama Buddha. The taking of the meanest life is
strictly forbidden, and falsehood, intemperance, dishonesty,
anger, pride, and covetousness are denounced as incompatible with
Buddhism, which enjoins the practice of chastity, gratitude,
contentment, moderation, forgiveness of injuries, patience, and
cheerfulness." The priests of Buddha are regularly ordained and
sworn to celibacy, and they are required to meet each other every
fourteen days for purposes of mutual confession. The lowest caste
is eligible to the priesthood, as with the Christian religion.
Ceylon is somewhat smaller than Ireland, and the population is a
little less than three millions, but it is rapidly increasing, as
are its exports and imports. Of all the places we visited it seems
to have suffered least from the wave of depression which has
recently swept over the world. This is undoubtedly owing to the
fact that the spicy isle enjoys somewhat of a monopoly in coffee
and some of the spices, cinnamon especially. Java coffee is
generally used, I think, in America, but in Ceylon it is deemed an
inferior article; Mocha, in Arabia, furnishes the best, but much
called Mocha is really grown here. In the coffee plantations men
are paid eighteen cents per day; women, fourteen cents. A disease
akin to that which attacked the vines in France some years ago has
raged among the plants for two years past; it promises this year
to be less destructive, although no effectual cure has yet been
discovered. We met several coffee planters, generally young,
pushing Englishmen who either own the estates, or are related to
those who do. They lead a pleasant life in Ceylon, the climate
being good most of the year, and those who are contented declare
that a European can live there and enjoy as good health as at
home. If the weather prove too warm in the summer there are the
mountains to run to. Scientific cultivation of coffee began in
Ceylon as late as 1824, and public attention was not directed to
it until 1834--only fifty years ago--yet to-day there are more
than twelve hundred coffee plantations, and the amount of coffee
exported exceeds twenty millions of dollars per annum. Tea
cultivation has been introduced recently, and the quality is said
to be excellent. There cannot be any doubt of this, because it
finds a ready market here. None has been exported. If it were not
a remarkably good article the foreign would be preferred, as we
all know a domestic article has a world of prejudice to overcome
at first. I shall watch the Ceylon tea question with interest, and
hope that at some not distant day the production of tea leaf may
rival that of the coffee bean.
I have no intention to enter into any political
question--certainly not into the merits of Free Trade vs.
Protection; but I must own I was surprised to find that one-fifth
of the total revenue of the island is derived from taxes upon the
daily food of the people, two-thirds of this from a tax upon
imported rice, and the other third from native grain.
Ceylon teaches many lessons. The liquor traffic, for instance, is
managed throughout the entire island as a governmental monopoly.
Distillation is restricted to a few specified distillers who can
sell their product at wholesale in open market, but the right to
retail is restricted to certain taverns, which are rented year by
year to the highest bidders, subject to stringent conditions. Pure
arrack only can be sold at fixed prices, and lessees are held to
strict account for drunkenness and disturbances. The liquor
monopoly yields £170,000, or about one-seventh of the whole
revenue, which in 1873 was £1,241,558 ($6,200,000); about ten
shillings per head, as against England's two pounds and more.
The main roads of Ceylon are equal to those of Central Park; so
they should be, for their cost has exceeded £2,000 per mile. Ten
thousand dollars!--we could almost build a railway in the West for
this. However, it is not as much as it costs in Britain to get the
right to begin to spend money on a railway; so we must
congratulate the Ceylonese upon getting a splendid return for
their investment. During our brief sojourn in the island (alas!
all too short as I write these pages) we travelled over every mile
of railway there. This sounds large to one who judges of a railway
system by that of the United States--a hundred and twenty thousand
miles; there were then only about a hundred miles in all
Ceylon--two short lines. To-day there are doubtless a hundred and
Fifty miles in operation, as the line under construction between
Colombo and Galle was expected to be opened in two years more.
This brings Japan and Ceylon about even upon the railway question,
though the population of Ceylon is only about one-twelfth that of
Japan.
* * * * *
KANDY.
A railway has been built from Colombo, the shipping port, through
the mountains to the coffee-growing districts, a distance of
seventy miles, and this enabled us to visit Kandy, more than 1,600
feet above the sea, and the summer capital to which the government
repairs in hot weather. It is a beautiful little town, and gave us
the first breath of air with "ozone" in it that we had enjoyed
since we were on the Sierras. Our hotel fronts upon the square,
and is opposite the Buddhist Temple, celebrated as the receptacle
of that precious relic, "the sacred tooth of Buddha." A former
king of Ceylon is reputed to have paid an immense sum for this
memento of the departed. We were too near the temple for comfort.
The tomtom has to be beaten five times each day, and as one of
these is at sunrise, I had occasion to wish the priest and tooth
both far enough away. I wonder the Europeans don't indict this
tomtoming at unseasonable hours as a nuisance.
The Botanical Gardens here are rivalled in the tropics by those in
Java only, and upon seeing the display of luxuriant vegetation, we
fully understood how it had acquired its celebrity; but still all
is green. The great variety of palms, the bread-fruit, banyan,
jack-fruit, and others sustain this reputation. The chocolate tree
was the most curious to us; it has recently been introduced in the
island, and promises to add one more to the list of luxuries for
which Ceylon is famous. A fine evidence of the intelligence of the
Ceylon planters is seen in the fact that the association employs a
chemist to investigate and report upon the different soils and
what they are capable of producing; under his supervision various
articles are always under trial. Recently Liberian coffee has been
found to thrive in low latitudes unsuited for the Arabian variety,
which requires a higher district, thus rendering available for
this plant a large area, which has hitherto been necessarily
devoted to less profitable uses. Nothing nowadays can be
thoroughly developed without the chemist's aid, and the day is not
far distant when our farming will be conducted under his
instructions as completely as our steel manufacture is now.
Ceylon is noted for its pearl fisheries and its supply of rubies,
sapphires, and cats'-eyes as much as for its spices; and from the
hour the traveller lands until the steamer carries him off he is
beset with dealers offering precious stones, worth hundreds of
dollars in London or New York, for a few rupees; but those who
purchase no doubt find their fate in the story of the innocent who
bought his gold cheap. The government keeps the pearl fishery
grounds under proper regulations, and allows divers one half of
all they find, the other half going to the State Treasury. I was
told the value of the pearls found last year amounted to $400,000,
but the production seems to be falling off. In 1798 the fishery
was rented for £142,000 ($710,000). Now the government has to work
it and the net proceeds have never exceeded £87,000 in any year,
and have fallen as low as £7,200.
The government employed a naturalist to study the habits of the
pearl oyster. He labored for five years, but this time scientific
investigation seems to have failed and we know but little more
about the subject than before. Some genius will come, however, to
solve all questions. Science may be rebuffed twenty times, but it
never rests until the truth is known. This much is certain, that
these precious oysters leave their usual beds for years together.
There was no fishery once for twenty-seven years, from 1768 to
1796, and once before then it failed for about fourteen years.
When they do visit pretty Ceylon, their main residence is upon the
northwestern coast, sixteen to twenty miles from shore. It is
believed that the oyster reaches maturity in its seventh year,
when the pearl attains full size and lustre. If the oyster be not
secured then, it soon dies and we lose our pearl. Consider the
number of these jewels which fade away to their original elements
in the depths of ocean: for one we get, a million decomposed.
Did the poet know how true his words were when he said:
"Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear."
The government brings the oysters to the beach and sells them to
the highest bidders in lots of one thousand. Can you conceive of a
prettier game of chance than this! Imagine the natives at work
opening the rough shells, expecting at every turn to find a pearl
worth a fortune!
The pearl fishers descend six to eight fathoms forty or fifty
times a day, and can remain under water from a minute to a minute
and a half. So much for practice. In the course of a million or
hundred million years, more or less, each successive generation
pursuing this calling, under the law of inherited tendencies,
these people might well return to the amphibious state and give us
an illustration of evolution, backward.
The pearl oyster is a large, round bivalve, sometimes twelve
inches in diameter. If Thackeray felt, as he said when he first
tried a Rockaway, as if he were swallowing a baby, what would have
been his impressions if he had tickled his throat with one of
these monsters? Sometimes a dozen, or even twenty pearls, are said
to have been found in a single oyster. I remember hearing in China
that a fresh water mollusc is made to grow pearls by the
introduction of foreign bodies within the shell. These produce
irritation which the shell fish seeks to allay by depositing
around them a layer of pearly matter, and thus pearls are formed.
It is a fact that the celebrated Linnaeus was paid $2,500 by the
Swedish Government for a plan he discovered for doing a similar
thing with the oyster. He bored through the shell and deposited
sand particles, between it and the mantle of fine tissues. It was
not a success; but some day the race will produce pearls from
cultivated oyster beds as we now get our eggs from chickens; that
is, provided the coming man is not to regard jewelry of all kinds
as barbaric--"_barbaric_ pearls and gold" are Milton's very
words, and great poets are prophets. The tendency is certainly in
that direction. The more ignorant the natives, the more ornamental
jewelry is worn, even if it be immense, heavy glass bracelets from
Birmingham. Already one says, how simple, how grandly simple she
was, with her hair plain, her ears unpierced, her head and neck
without a single ornament, save only a rosebud in the hair. Jewels
are to women what wine is to man--not recommended till after
forty; and a poor help at any age.
* * * * *
COLOMBO, Tuesday, January 21.
Ceylon was originally settled in 1517 by the Portuguese, who
obtained the right to erect a small factory at Colombo for
purposes of trade. This soon grew into a fort, and naturally the
whole west coast became theirs. The Dutch drove them out a hundred
and fifty years later, to be in turn expelled by the English after
they had occupied the island for just about the same period. As
with all their colonies, the Dutch left their impress upon Ceylon.
New industries were introduced, great public works constructed,
and, better than all, the education of the people was well cared
for. The trade with Holland became a source of much profit.
England has been master since 1796, nearly ninety years now, and
certainly the work she has to show for the less than a century is
marvellous indeed.
The people are not yet done rejoicing at the restoration of their
ancient village institutions, which took place in 1871. Europeans
had rudely swept these away and substituted courts after their own
fashion. After many years trial, they were seen to be unsuited for
the country, and the ancient village tribunals were reestablished,
as I have said, a few years ago. It will not do to conclude, as
many do, that India, Ceylon, and other of the Eastern lands, are
left almost bare of just laws and fair administration, for nothing
could be farther from the truth. The village elders, chosen by the
people of Ceylon, for instance, administer laws which are the
outgrowth of centuries, and as such are far better adapted to the
real conditions which exist than any other system of laws, no
matter how perfect, which have been found suitable in other lands
under conditions wholly unlike. Here in this charming island, as
indeed throughout all India, villages, or groups of villages, are
authorized to frame rules having the force of laws, and which
natives construe and administer.
I am amused at the ignorance of the average Englishman or American
upon Eastern affairs. He is always amazed when I tell him that so
far as representative institutions are concerned, there is not a
village in India which is not farther advanced in this department
of politics than any rural constituency in Britain. The American
county, village, district and township system is of course more
perfect than any other with which I am acquainted, but the English
is really about the most backward. The experiment in Ceylon of
restoring the native system has been an unequivocal success, even
beyond the expectations of its warmest advocates, and in addition
to the advantages flowing from the native courts, it is found that
the village committees are beginning to repair and restore the
ancient tanks and other irrigation works, which, under the curse
of centralized and foreign authority had been allowed to fall into
disuse.
The new blood of home rule in local affairs has aroused local
patriotism and established numerous bodies throughout the country,
each a centre from which good influences radiate, organizations
into which good impulses flow, to crystallize into works of public
utility, while at the same time an _esprit de corps_ is
created which must tell more and more. Wait till this plan is
tried in England and Scotland, and, above all, in unhappy Ireland!
I shall never despair of Ireland until at least a generation has
had such local institutions as we find in Ceylon's Isle. If that
people cannot develop under self-government, they deserve to fall
away and give place to a better race; but they will not fail.
Caste exists in Ceylon, although it is not so strictly preserved
as in India. Still, every calling is a caste, down to the
scavenger. The several castes do not intermarry, nor is it
practicable for one who has reaped great wealth and has natural
tastes and abilities above his caste, to do in this small island
what is readily done in India, viz., emigrate and set up in
superior style in some other part of the crowded empire. The
wealthiest native in Ceylon to-day is a fisherman, and yet he
cannot gain admittance to the society of poorer natives about him
of higher caste. If he were in India, and socially ambitious, he
would change his residence. I was told by several Europeans that
the bonds of caste in India are slowly weakening, and that when a
wealthy stranger comes to a district it is held wise not to
inquire too curiously concerning his birth.
Of all the castes, the tiller of the soil stands at the head in
Ceylon; even the skilled worker in iron is away below him. The
rural laborer with us must be taught to hold his head up. He is A1
in Ceylon.
The position held by Ceylon in ancient days as the great granary
of Southern Asia explains the precedence accorded to agricultural
pursuits. Under native rule the whole island was brought under
irrigation by means of artificial lakes, constructed by dams
across ravines, many of them of great extent--one, still existing,
is twenty miles in circumference--but the system has been allowed
to fall into decay. I am glad to know that government has resolved
to undertake the work of repair. Proper sluices are to be supplied
to all the village tanks, and the embankments are to be raised and
strengthened through the labor of the village communities. We may
yet live to see the fertility of the country restored to that of
its pristine days.
We saw the new breakwater which government is constructing here at
great expense. When finished it is proposed that the Indian
steamers shall call here instead of at Galle, the harbor of which
is dangerous. This may be a decided improvement upon the whole,
but the tourist who does not see pretty Galle and enjoy the long
day's drive through the island to Colombo will miss much.
Iron ore exists in Ceylon in vast deposits and is remarkably pure,
rivalling the best Swedish grades. It has been worked from remote
times, and native articles of iron are preferred even to-day to
any that can be imported. If cost of transportation is to keep
growing less and less, it is not beyond the range of possibility
that some day Britain may import some of this unrivalled stone for
special uses. There are also quicksilver mines, and lead, tin, and
manganese are found to some extent.
* * * * *
GALLE, Wednesday, January 22.
We reached here last night upon our return, stopping one night at
Colombo. Future travellers will soon miss one of the rarest treats
in Ceylon. The railway will soon be completed from Colombo to
Galle, and the days of coaching cease forever. We congratulate
ourselves that our visit was before this passed away, as we know
of no drive equal to that we have now enjoyed twice, and the last
time even more than the first.
During our trip down yesterday I counted within forty miles eleven
schools filled with young Cingalese. English is generally taught
in them, and although attendance is not compulsory, great
inducements are held out to parents to send their children. The
advantages of knowing the English language are so decided that I
am told parents generally are most anxious to have their children
taught. The school-houses are simple affairs, consisting only of
white plastered walls about five feet high, with spaces for
entrance. On this wall rest the slight wooden standards which
support thereof of palm-leaves, so that all is open to our view as
we drive past. The attention paid to this vital subject, evidences
of which are seen everywhere, is what most delights us. In 1874
there were 1,468 public schools on the island, attended by 66,385
scholars.
We were equally delighted to see numerous medical dispensaries,
where the afflicted natives can obtain advice and medicine free of
charge. On several huts we saw large placards denoting the
presence of contagious disease within. It is a great work that is
going forward here under English rule. By such means England
proves her ability to govern, and best confirms her sway against
domestic revolt or foreign intrigues. The blessings of good
government, the education of the people, and careful attention to
their health and comfort--these will be found the most effective
weapons with which to combat mutiny within, or Russian or any
other aggression from abroad. From all we saw in Ceylon we are
prepared to put it forth as the best example of English government
in the world, England herself not excepted.
* * * * *
SATURDAY, January 25.
At ten tonight we sailed for Madras and Calcutta by the English
mail steamer Hindostan, and were lighted out of the intricate
harbor by flaming torches displayed by lines of natives stationed
at the buoys.
"Flashes of flambeaux looked Like Demons guarding the river of
death."
The last sight of Ceylon's isle revealed the fine spires of the
Catholic Cathedral, which tower above the pretty harbor of Galle.
* * * * *
INDIA.
MADRAS, Tuesday, January 28.
We arose to find ourselves at anchor in the open sea opposite
Madras. There is not a harbor upon the whole western coast of
Hindostan. Government is engaged in constructing one, but it is
slow work, as the immense blocks of concrete used can be handled
and laid only in smooth seas, which seldom occur. Sometimes the
mail steamers find it impossible to land passengers or cargo, and
are compelled to carry both to Calcutta. The surf often sweeps
over the top of the iron pier, which is certainly twenty feet
high. Passengers are taken ashore in native boats twenty feet long
and five feet deep. Across the boat, on small round poles, sit ten
rowers, five on each side; another man steers, and in the bow
stand two boys prepared to bail out the water which sweeps in as
we plunge through the surf. Fortunately the sea was unusually
calm, and we had no difficulty in reaching dry land. When the surf
is too strong for even these boats to encounter, natives
communicate with ships by tying together three small logs, upon
which they manage to sit and paddle about, carrying letters in
bags fastened upon their heads. As the solid logs cannot sink,
they are safe as long as they can cling to them, and an upset is
to them an occurrence of little consequence. We saw many of these
curious contrivances, but one must have a good deal of the
amphibious in his nature, or full faith that he was not born to be
drowned, to trust himself upon them through the Madras surf.
India at last! How strange everything looks! Brahmans, Cullrees
and Banians, devotees of the three different gods, with foreheads
marked to denote their status, the white sandal-wood paste upon
the Brahman's brow. Our first glimpse of caste, of which these are
the three main divisions, to one of which all persons must belong
or be of the lowest order, the residuum, who are coolies. There
are many subdivisions of these, and indeed every trade or calling
constitutes a different order, the members of which do not
intermarry, or associate, or even eat with one another.
Generations pursuing the same calling, and only marrying within
themselves, acquire a peculiar appearance, and this effectually
creates a caste. Carpenters, masons, merchants, each are distinct,
and the occupation of a man can readily be known by his dress or
manner.
Caste! what is caste? whence did it spring? and what are its
effects today in India? Whatever story I tell about its origin,
some great authority will flatly contradict it. The beginning of
caste, like that of most existing institutions, is lost in
obscurity; but the most likely guess to my mind is that which
founds caste upon this natural train of reasoning.
Before men travelled much, when the race were serfs and all their
needs were supplied by those immediately about them, it was almost
inevitable that the son should be put to his father's handicraft.
He could be of service there at a much earlier age than if he had
to go to a stranger. Besides, he had a chance from his infancy to
become familiar with the work, and again, his father's reputation
would serve a purpose. Therefore, successive generations remained
bakers, smiths, carpenters, agriculturists, laborers, and
eventually this developed special aptitudes under the law of
inherited tendencies and each occupation became a caste.
Those who were in the highest employments being the best educated,
they soon took measures to secure their privileges, and in the
past ages nothing could rivet the chains so effectually as the
sanction of the gods. Therefore, we need not be surprised that in
good time a revelation came to this effect: "When man was divided
how many did they make him? What was his mouth? What his arms?
What his legs and feet? Brahma was his mouth, Kshatriya his arms,
Vaisya his thighs, and Sudra his feet."
This gives four grand divisions for the race, and their duties
toward the State and to each other are clearly defined by the part
of the "Grand Man" or "God" from which they sprang. The following
are a few of the principal items of the code which regulates these
classes: To the first, or Brahman, belongs the religious
department--he studies and expounds the sacred books, officiates
at sacrifices, and is the recipient of the "presents" offered to
the gods. These are modern clergymen. To the second, or
Kshatriyas, are given the war department, force, and criminal
justice. These are our human butchers, the military class, who are
yet not ashamed of the "profession of arms." To the third, or
Vaisyas, belong commerce and agriculture, and to the poor fourth
estate, or Sudras, are left the mechanical arts and service to the
other castes. The first three alone wear the sacred thread.
The Brahman is entitled by primogeniture to the whole universe. He
may seize the goods of a Sudra, and whatever, beyond a certain
amount, the latter acquires by labor or succession. If he slanders
any of the other castes he pays only nominal fines graduated
according to classes. Whatever crime he may commit his personal
property cannot be injured, but whoever strikes a Brahman even
with a blade of grass becomes an inferior quadruped for twenty-one
generations. He is the physician for men's bodies as well as for
their souls.
The one duty of the Sudra is to serve all the three superior
castes "without depreciating their worth." In administering oaths,
a Brahman swears only by his veracity--"his honor as a gentleman."
A Kshatriya swears by his weapons, a Vaisya by his cattle, while
the poor Sudra has to swear by all the most frightful penalties of
perjury.
A curious survival of this same idea lingers in England, where the
theory is that all men are equal before the law. Nevertheless
members of the Royal Family are still released from the suspicion
that they would not tell the truth unless they took an oath to do
so. They are not required to take an oath before testifying in
court. But imagine Herbert Spencer and the average Prince giving
evidence; whose word would go the farther the wide world over? Yet
the former would be insulted by being compelled to swear, while
the latter would be allowed to testify upon the "honor of a
prince," a very scanty foundation as princes have ever been and
must ever be. History seems to teach us that it has been difficult
to get this class to keep the oaths they did take. If I were an M.
P., I would move that this be changed. The Brahman,
notwithstanding his superior station, is nevertheless held to be
much more liable to pollution than the lower orders, and is
therefore required to bathe more frequently, and to be much more
watchful against the tempter. Our Brahmans at home might take a
lesson from this. A high authority has told us that
"Life can be lived well,
Even in a palace."
But Burns has the truth:
"And certes in fair Virtue's heavenly road
The cottage leaves the palace far behind."
I have given you the ideal of caste and its laws. Their
administration is a far different matter. It is no longer possible
for Brahmans to enforce strictly their claims. Caste crumbles away
before the progress of the age. Your railway is a "sure destroyer"
of all branches of inequality among men. The Press a still
greater; but ages will pass ere we have among the two hundred and
fifty millions of Hindostan anything approaching that degree of
equality and intermarriage of classes which even England
possesses, to say nothing of America. The marvel is that caste
took such root throughout India apparently in opposition to the
teachings of Gautama Buddha. But it is scarcely less strange than
that the fighting Christian nations found their system upon the
teachings of the Prince of Peace.
Here is the true doctrine of the Eastern Christ: As the four
rivers which fall into the Ganges lose their names as soon as they
mingle their waters with the holy river, so all who believe in
Buddha cease to be Brahmans, Kshatriyas, Vaisyas, and Sudras. The
same doctrine is beautifully expressed in the "Light of Asia."
Buddha asks for a drink of milk from a shepherd.
"'Ah, my Lord,
I cannot give thee,' quoth the lad; 'thou seest
I am a Sudra, and my touch defiles!'
Then the world-honored spoke: 'Pity and need
Make all flesh kin. There is no caste in blood,
Which runneth of one hue, nor caste in tears,
Which trickle salt with all; neither comes man
To birth with tilka-mark stamped on the brow,
Nor sacred thread on neck. Who doeth right deeds
Is twice-born, and who doeth ill deeds vile.
Give me to drink, _my brother_. '"
Our friend in Madras gave us a rare treat by driving us out to see
the celebrated Madras tigers, for nowhere else in the world are
such tigers kept as here, and indeed I go so far as to declare
that until one has seen these grand animals he has no adequate
idea of what a tiger is. All that I have seen hitherto--and I do
not forget the "Zoo" in London--are but tame mockeries of the
genuine monster. I walked up to a large cage, but was startled by
such a fright. A tiger was in an instant flat against the cage,
and between me and it were only a few small iron rods which
rattled like reeds as he struck them. I thought the whole cage was
in pieces, and that beast upon me. Such glaring eyes, burning like
immense topazes in his head! and then when he found himself unable
to get at his prey, such a yell! but I was many feet from him ere
this came, I assure you. He had sprung from the back of his cage
against the bars, a distance of at least fifteen or eighteen feet,
the moment he saw me, and no doubt hurt himself as he dashed
against them. The keeper told us this one had only been caught a
few months ago. His stripes were glossy black, and his coat not
that sickly tawny color we are so familiar with, but a light fiery
brown. Compared with the tiger, it is impossible but that even the
noblest lion must seem tame and inert. We took no interest in the
lions, although there were some fine specimens. In the evening we
enjoyed hearing the Governor's band performing on the beach and
seeing Madras society congregated there, and for the first time
since we left America saw full-sized horses again. Several
gentlemen were riding animals that would pass muster in Central
Park. Thus far we have found only little ponies in use.
Our races have never been brought face to face with famine, but in
India the masses are always upon the brink of starvation; a little
too much, or too little, rain during the monsoon, and the lives of
millions are endangered. The miserable wretches--mere
skeletons--we saw to-day sitting on the dusty road sides
beseeching passers-by for a pittance, are traces which still
remain of the terrible famine of the years 1876 and 1877. Both the
monsoons of the former year failed, and the season of 1877 was
little better, although the government spent more than eleven
millions sterling ($55,000,000) in strenuous efforts to supply
enough food to render existence possible. More than five million
human beings, more than the entire population of the State of
Pennsylvania--far more than that of Scotland--were sacrificed from
want and disease resulting from the famine of these two years.
There is no doubt about the correctness of this startling
statement, for it is founded upon the increased death rate in the
afflicted districts.
It was while the shadow of this calamity, unparalleled since the
beginning of British rule in India, was over the land that the
most gorgeous "durbar" ever held in India was ordered for the
purpose of gratifying a whim of Queen Victoria, who had induced
Lord Beaconsfield to have her proclaimed Empress of India, or, as
is far more probable, which he had instigated her to accept. The
natives who spoke of this to us were outraged at the act, and
quoted it as proof that their lives and sufferings were held as
nothing by England. This does England gross injustice, for, as I
was able to tell them, English opinion was itself averse to giving
the Queen a title in India which they could not be induced to
tolerate at home, and only acquiesced because Victoria had really
done so much that was good during her long reign that they did not
wish to deny her what she had unfortunately set her heart upon;
and then after all the poor Queen probably did not know about the
famine. Her books show that her interest in life is confined
strictly to the petty details of her household and narrow circle
of satellites.
Today our Sunday-school recollections were again aroused by a
sight of the terrible car of Juggernaut. It is really an immense
affair, elaborately carved in bold relief, and on the top is a
platform for the priests. I should say the car is twenty-five feet
high and about eight by twelve at the base; it has six wheels,
four outside and two in the centre, the former nine feet in
diameter and the latter six, all of solid wood clamped together
with iron bands, and all at least two feet in width of tread. Such
a mass, drawn through the streets by elephants and accompanied by
excited devotees, its hundred bells jangling as it rolled along
where there was not another vehicle of any kind with which to
compare it, or a house more than one small story high, must have
appeared to the ignorant natives something akin to the
supernatural; and I can now well understand how wretches, working
themselves into a state of frenzy, should have felt impelled to
dash under its wheels. It is still paraded upon certain festival
days, invariably surrounded, however, by policemen, who keep the
natives clear of the wheels, for even to-day, if they were not
prevented, its victims would be as numerous as ever. Imagine, if
you can, with what feelings we stood and gazed upon this car,
which has crushed under its ponderous wheels religious enthusiasts
by the thousand, and which still retains its fascination over men
anxious to be allowed the glory of such self-immolation, at the
supposed call of God, who would be a fiend if he desired such
sacrifice.
We left Madras on Wednesday morning, and had a fine smooth sail
across the Bay of Bengal to Calcutta, the City of Palaces and
centre of the British power in India. Coming up the river we pass
the shipping in review, and never before have we seen so many
large, magnificent sailing ships in one port, not even in
Liverpool or London. The trade requires large clippers, and these
splendid vessels lie four and five deep for two miles along the
river, all in fine trim, flags flying, and looking their best. We
pass the palace of the old King of Oude, who was brought here when
deposed for his misdeeds. He is allowed a pension of $50,000 per
month, which seems a great waste of money, as it is mostly
squandered by the old reprobate. His collection of birds and
beasts is a wonderful one, for he pays any price for animals; last
month he paid $12,500 for two grand tigers, but they escaped a few
days afterward and swam across the river.
The first queer thing that strikes you at your hotel is that two
natives take you in custody without even saying "by your leave,"
and never while you are in Calcutta will you be able to get out of
sight of one or the other of these officers. One attends in person
to your room, brings you your tea and toast at six, prepares your
bath, takes your shoes to the proper "caste" man below (he
wouldn't black them for the world, bless you!), and plays the
valet while you dress. At night you find him stretched out across
your door, like a dog on the watch, and there he lies all night,
subject to master's call. I hurt my man's feelings one night by
gently stepping over his prostrate form and getting into my room
and going to bed without his aid. I turned the key when I got
inside, and not many moments after I heard him move. Missing the
key, he suspected something was wrong, and tried the door several
times; but as he met with no response he finally gave it over, and
lay down to sleep. The other attendant is our waiter at table and
out-door servant. You find these people curled up and lying at
every step through the halls, and are in constant danger of
stumbling over them. Every guest generally has two, although the
hotel professes to keep an efficient staff of its own. We hear
amusing stories told of servants in India, their duties being so
strictly defined by caste that one must be kept for every trifling
duty. Our friend the Major tells us, for instance, that upon a
recent occasion his wife wished to send a note to him at the Fort,
a very short distance from his residence. The proper messenger
happening to have been sent elsewhere, she asked the coachman to
please take it to master, but he explained how impossible it would
be for him to comply, much as he wished to do so. Persuasion was
useless; but madame thought of a remedy--order the carriage. The
grooms prepare and harness the horses, the coachman mounts the box
and appears at the door. "Now drive to master's, and, attendant,
deliver this note." All right. This brought it within the sphere
of his caste. He is bound to obey all orders connected with the
carriage. Incidents of this nature are too numerous to recount. It
is in India that political economists can best study the division
of labor in its most advanced stage of development. My friend Mrs.
K. kindly gave me her list of servants and their various duties,
They numbered twenty-two, although Mr. K.'s establishment is a
moderate one.
We find the Zoological Gardens very interesting. Here we saw for
the first time monkeys running about unfettered among the trees,
and a lion chained to a dog-kennel doing watch duty like a
mastiff. We also saw an entire house devoted to the display of
pheasants. These birds make a fine collection, for there are
numerous varieties, and some exceedingly beautiful. There are here
two full-grown orang-outangs and one child, the former even more
human than the pets we had recently been in charge of. The huge
crocodile in a large pond failed to make his appearance yesterday,
and while we were there five natives with long poles and two in a
small boat were detailed to stir him up and see what was the
matter. It was amusing to see these naked attendants as they waded
in a few feet and poked about, ready to jump back at every
movement of the water, and sometimes frightened at each other's
strokes; but all will agree with me that this business of stirring
up crocodiles at twenty cents per day yields no fair compensation
for the risks involved. There are good tigers here also, but
having seen the tiger of the world at Madras, all others are but
shadows. It is the same now with peacocks, which in these
latitudes are far superior to those with us, but the peacock is at
Saigon, in Cochin China, and we never see one without saying, one
to the other, "How poor!" We are in a few days to see the Taj, and
I suppose it will be the same as to buildings hereafter. Even
Walter Scott's monument at Edinburgh--my favorite piece of stone
and lime--must be surpassed by this marvel of perfection.
I have been considering whether it is more productive of pleasure
really to have seen or heard the admitted best of everything,
beyond which you can never expect to go, and as compared with
which you must actually hereafter be content invariably to meet
the inferior, or whether one had better, for the retention of
future interest in things, not see the very topmost and unrivalled
of each. I have met people whose ears, for instance, were so
cultivated as to render it painful for them to listen even to the
grandest music if indifferently performed; some who had
"atmosphere" and "chiaro-oscuro" so fully developed that copies of
even the "Madonna di San Sisto" were only daubs offensive to the
eye; others who, having seen Macready in Macbeth, find the tragedy
stale in others' hands. Now I don't believe this ensues where the
love of the art itself is genuine; and I rejoice to say that
having once listened to an oratorio at the Handel Festival with
four thousand selected performers, that oratorio becomes forever a
source of exquisite enjoyment, performed where or how it may be.
If poorly done, the mind floats up toward the region, if it does
not attain quite the same height, where it soared at the perfect
recital; the distinct images there seen, which Confucius justly
gives music the power of creating, come vividly again as the notes
swell forth. The priests who call are different, indeed, but the
gods who respond are one and the same. So having seen Janauschek
in Lady Macbeth, all other Lady Macbeths participate in her
quality. Having almost worshipped Raphael's Madonna, all other
Madonnas have a touch of her power. It is of the very essence of
genius that it educates one to find beauty and harmony where
before he would only have trodden over barren sands, and the
grand and poor performances of any masterpiece are not a contrast
to the truly receptive, but are as steps leading from the lowest
to the highest in the same temple. Because one has been
awe-stricken by Niagara's torrent, are the other waterfalls of the
world to be uninteresting? No; to the man whose soul has really
been impressed, every tiny stream that tumbles down in foam is
related to the greater wonder, partaking to some extent of its
beauty and grandeur. Having seen the Himalayas, are the more
modest but not less dear Alleghanies to lose their charm and
power? Never! Let me go forward, then, and revel without
misgivings in the highest of human and divine creations, as I may
be privileged to see or hear or know them. I do not fear that I
shall ever become a member of the extensive band we meet in our
travels who have become incapable of enjoying anything but the
best.
We paid a visit to the river one morning to see the Hindoos
performing the sacred rite of bathing, which their religion
commands. Crowds of men and women enter the water promiscuously
and pray together. What a mercy that Brahma thought of elevating,
personal cleanliness to the rank of the virtues! What thousands
are saved every year in consequence! What this crowded hive of
human beings in hot India would become without this custom it is
fearful to contemplate. I find our friends all regretting that
Mohammed was less imperative upon this point. His followers take
rather to sprinkling than immersion, for dipping hands and feet in
water is held by them as quite sufficient, and both are not
equally efficacious as purifiers in the tropics, however they may
be as religious ceremonies.
A Boston clipper ship was being unloaded of its cargo of Wenham
Ice as we strolled along the wharf in the warm early morning. The
great blocks were carried upon the heads of the naked Sudras, one
at a time, and even at this early hour the ice was melting fast,
the drops of cool water forming tiny rills on the soiled, dark
skins of the carriers, who no doubt enjoyed the rare luxury of
something really cold. The exportation of ice to the East was a
great Boston industry at that time; today it is wholly gone, the
artificial being now made and sold at every centre for one-third
the price commanded by the natural product. A slight improvement
in the mode of manufacture, and, presto! here at the Equator,
where the temperature is always at our summer heat, we make ice by
the ton and are able to sell it at prices which the poorest
population in the world can readily pay. Where are we going to
stop in the domain of invention?
One day we visited the temple sacred to the bloody goddess "Kali,"
from whom Calcutta derives its name. She took her rise, as many gods
have done, from her insatiable thirst for human blood. One powerful
giant alone was able for many years to withstand her arts, he being
secretly informed by a spirit that when she pursued he had only to
stand in water, and if one drop of his blood was spilled, other
giants would spring forth and devour "Kali" herself. This secret she
divined, however, and one day attacked him even in the water,
strangling him and sucking every drop of his blood without spilling
one. But her tongue grew so large and red that she was never
afterward able to get it back into her mouth, and now she stands
fixed in this temple, her big red tongue hanging out, a most
revolting sight. So powerful is she esteemed that pilgrims to her
shrine, who have spent months in coming hundreds of miles by
measuring their bodies upon the dusty ground, are sometimes seen
passing through the by-lanes of Calcutta. Lying flat, they mark
their length, rise, and lie down again at this mark, and go on this
way, never leaving the path day or night, and begging food and water
enough to sustain them as they proceed. I was told of one man who
travelled eight hundred miles in this manner. Imagine the strength
of the superstition which can so blind its dupes. But even this is
nothing compared with the self-inflicted torture practised by many
"who seek to merit heaven by making earth a hell." It is not rare
for fakirs to stand in postures that cripple them for life. One
elects to stand on one foot until it becomes impossible for him ever
to put the other to the ground. Another determines to raise his arms
to heaven, never taking them down. In a short time, after
excruciating pain, the joints stiffen so as to render any change
impossible, and the arms shrivel until little but bone is left. Some
let their nails grow into their flesh and through their hands. The
forms of these penances are innumerable, and those who undergo them
are regarded as holy men and are worshipped and supported by their
less religious fellows. Kali must still have her blood, and hundreds
of kids, goats, buffaloes, and other animals are sacrificed daily at
her shrine. We saw the bloody work going forward. Crowds of
pilgrims, numbering at least three hundred during our short stay,
came in bands from the country to propitiate the goddess. Each one
presents an offering as the idol is shown. It is the most disgusting
object I have ever seen, and a sight of it would, I am sure,
frighten children into crying. The business is skilfully managed. A
small dark hall, capable of holding about twenty-five worshippers,
occupies the space before the idol. This is filled with people and
the doors closed; then, amid the murmurs of priests and beating of
gongs, two sliding-doors are drawn aside, and the horrible
she-demon, with swollen blood-red tongue, comes into view for a
moment only, and the gifts are thrown at her. The crowd is excited
by fear and awe, but ere the figure can be closely scrutinized the
doors close, and the poor ignorant wretches seem stupefied with what
has been revealed. They pass slowly out, looking as if they had been
almost blinded with a glimpse of the forbidden mysteries, and
another batch crowds in to be similarly worked upon. We saw other
forms and figures of worship too gross to speak of. Nothing yet seen
can be called idolatry when compared with this, and I felt like
giving up all hope of improvement in these people; but then when one
sees the extent and character of the superstitions of the East he
cannot help having doubts of the advancement or elevation of the
species. There is, however, this consoling knowledge, that the
worshippers, such young girls and boys as we saw today excepted,
know that Kali is but the symbol of power, not the power itself.
Around this fact the forces able to overthrow superstition may be
evolved hereafter. The germ is there.
The hundreds of young, pretty, innocent children whom we saw
brought to-day to witness such rites by kind, dutiful, religious
parents--the most conscientious and most respectable of the native
race--were dressed with as much care and pride as a corresponding
number of young Christians would be when taken to the rite of
confirmation. How could I be otherwise than sad and murmur,
"Forgive them, for they know not what they do." Thus far is plain
sailing, for every one will agree with me; but when I denounced to
the priests the pools of clotted blood as offensive, even to
coarse men, and wholly unfit as a satisfactory offering to any
power to whom we can ascribe the name of God, they retorted by
saying this is also part of the Christian system: the God of
Abraham demands his sacrifice of blood also. It is in vain to
intimate that this day is past and that our Father in heaven no
longer takes delight in the blood of rams or of bullocks. I shall
never forget the malicious inquiry: "Does your God _change_,
then?" "No, certainly not; but our conceptions of him change year
by year as we gain knowledge." They smile, and I am troubled. Let
us pause and reflect before we rashly assail any form of religion
until we know that what we have to offer in its place is really
free from the errors we mourn over in others. In the progress of
the race such dreadful conceptions of God must apparently exist
for a time. Has not Herbert Spencer himself assured us that,
"Speaking generally, the religion current in each age and among
each people has been as near an approximation to the truth as
it was then and there possible for men to receive."
I needed all this from the philosopher to restrain my indignation
at first and afterward to mitigate my sorrow. Even this was not
quite sufficient, but how much an anecdote will sometimes do, and
this one the philosopher above quoted told me himself. At times,
when disposed to take gloomy views of man's advance, and sickened
by certain of his still barbarous beliefs and acts, he had found
relief in the story Emerson tells of himself when in similar
moods. After attending a meeting--perhaps the one where he was
hissed from the platform for denouncing human slavery--he walked
home burning with indignation; but entering his grounds, and
wandering among the green grass and the flowers, silently growing
in the cool moonlight, he looked up at the big trees and the big
trees looking down upon him seemed to say: "What! _so hot, my
little sir!_" Yes, we must upon our "distemper sprinkle cool
patience." If all is not well, yet all is coming well. In this
faith we find peace. The endless progress of the race is assured
now that evolution has come with its message and shed light where
before there was darkness, reassuring those who thought and who
therefore doubted most.
General Litchfield, United States Consul, fortunately accompanied
us upon this visit, and he knew two of the officiating priests,
who spoke English perfectly. These escorted us round and told us
about everything. The history of these two natives is most
suggestive. They were educated by the government in one of its
colleges, and very soon saw the falsity of their religious tenets,
but failing to get suitable employment, they had to return to
their families, who owned a share in the Kali Temple, which is
still profitable property, held like any other building. The
revenues are now divided among a hundred priests, and maintain
these and their families, all of whom are of the same family.
Should another son marry he becomes entitled to a certain share,
and so on. They carry this imposture on simply as a matter of
business, and laughed at us when we said they knew it was all
humbug. If it be true that no religion can long retain vital force
after its priests know it to be false, then there is hope for the
speedy fall of idolatry in India; but I fear there will be no lack
of men who will, like these hypocrites, continue to preach what
they know better than to believe, as long as rich livings are at
stake.
In one of our drives General Litchfield pointed out the house
where Macaulay wrote some of his essays while here laying the
foundations of the law code which has proved such a boon to India.
I see one great tribute paid to this monument of his genius: the
codification of the law in England is urged forward by pointing to
the indisputable success of the Indian code.
India has also great capabilities in regard to another article of
the largest consumption--tea. In this it is not improbable she
will some day rival even China.
We have been travelling for some days with a gentleman largely
interested in its cultivation in the Assam district, and learn
from him that the tea grown there commands a higher price than the
Chinese article. It also prospers in several other parts of India,
and the amount grown is increasing rapidly. The total export in
1878 was 34,000,000 pounds, while last year, 1883, it reached, it
is stated, 57,000,000 pounds, a large increase, while the tea
culture in China is about at a stand-still, the amount exported to
England in 1868, £11,000,000, exceeding that in any year since.
India, therefore gains rapidly upon China, and prophets are not
wanting who assert that as India was the original home of the
plant (as some authorities claim), so India is going to furnish
the world in future most of its tea. This may all be true and yet
the amount grown in India be a bagatelle to the product of China,
which consumes at home about nine times the amount exported.
Indian tea is pure, while that raised by both the Japanese and
Chinese is adulterated. It is also much stronger. I advise all to
give the Indian tea a fair trial.
India, you see, has great possibilities. She is distanced in
cotton, is a good second in wheat, and has a place in the race for
tea, with odds in her favor in the latter as far as export goes. I
think this describes her situation fairly.
There are very few really successful equestrian statues in the
world, but Calcutta boasts one of these--Noble's statue of
General Outram. The artist has taken a bold departure, and instead
of the traditional eagle glance of the hero, the general is
represented as just checking his impetuous speed and casting a
look behind; the body turned round, and one hand resting on the
horse's flank, while the other reins in the horse; his head bare,
as if in the attack he had outrun his troops, lost his helmet, and
was stopping a moment for them to overtake him. I liked this
statue much, and wished that some others of which I wot partook of
its merits.
We attended the Viceroy's ball on Wednesday evening, and enjoyed the
brilliant scene. The uniforms of British officers as well as those of
the Civil Service are gorgeous, and set off a ball-room effectively.
We saw more ladies here than upon all other occasions combined
during our travels, and their general appearance was certainly
better than elsewhere, showing the climate to be less severe upon
them. Lord Lytton is a small man of unimposing appearance, and
entirely destitute of style, but the Commander-in-Chief, General
Haines, seems every inch a soldier, as do many of his subordinate
officers. Native princes were formerly invited to these balls, and
their presence, attended by their suites in Oriental costumes, added
much to the brilliancy of the scene, but it was found desirable to
discontinue the practice; they could not partake of European
refreshments nor understand the appearance of women in public, and
especially their dancing, nor, I fancy, could they look with
becoming gravity upon dignitaries so engaged, as they employ people
to do their dancing. I confess it struck me as bordering upon the
farcical to see Lord Lytton, charged with the government of more
than two hundred millions, and General Haines, Commander-in-Chief,
with an active campaign on his hands, Sir Thomas Wade, Her Majesty's
Ambassador to China, and the Lieutenant-General, all in uniform, and
the two former in knee- breeches, "all of ye olden time," doing
"forward four and turn your partner" in the same quadrille. Imagine
President Lincoln, Secretaries Seward and Stanton, and General Grant
so engaged.
The Viceroy of India has certainly to do his part in the way of
ceremonial. Flaming handbills of an English circus announce that
the performances are under his direct patronage. "Victoria, the
Empress of the Arena," is to-night to perform her unparalleled
feats in the ring in the presence of His Excellency. This was the
only tribute we saw paid in India to Her Majesty's spick-and-span
brand-new title of Empress. We attended the performance, which was
really creditable, but the natives sat unmoved throughout every
scene; so different from the conduct of the Japanese, who scream
with delight like children under similar circumstances. The
Indians seem to take their pleasures sadly, like ourselves.
We did not fail to visit the famous banyan tree of Calcutta, by
far the largest in the world. Vandy and I started and paced it
around until we met, counting three hundred and thirteen steps,
or, say, three hundred yards; the main trunk is probably about
thirty feet in circumference, but from each main branch roots have
descended to the earth and become supporters of these branches,
allowing them to extend still farther. In this way a branch may
have in its course three or four supporters at intervals of twenty
or thirty feet; the leaves are thick, and much resemble those of
the rubber tree in size and character.
We see numerous native barbers engaged in shaving the people.
Victim and operator squat down in a corner on their "hunkers,"
facing each other, and the operation then begins, the utensils
being laid out upon a rag on the ground. It seems the most
unnatural posture in the world for shaving or hair-dressing, but
as it is the custom there must be some advantages in it which we
cannot even guess.
One morning we drove to the burning ghat, and from personal
examination of cremation, I am able to express my preference for
Christian burial. The business of burning the dead--for in India it
is a business like any other, and belongs to a low caste--is carried
on in the most heartless manner. A building is erected upon the
river-bank, about a hundred feet in length and twenty-five feet in
width, and open on the side toward the river. The dead are brought
there upon stretchers wrapped in a little cloth, and are first
shaved by the attendants, who open the mouth and pour down a vial of
the water of the sacred Ganges. The body is then bent into a sitting
posture, carried out to the middle of the building, and wood built
around it. We saw the embers of several piles which had just done
their work, and one pile blazing, through the interstices of which
parts of the body were plainly visible. It was all horrible to me as
conducted here, but I can conceive of the grand funeral piles of the
high priests being made most impressive; and so I am told they are,
but the cremation of the poor lacks every element of this nature. My
heart bled for a poor widow whose husband had just been taken to the
pile. She was of a very low caste, but her grief was heartrending;
not loud, but I thought I could taste the saltness of her tears,
they seemed so bitter; but she has this consolation to comfort her
after the outburst, that she insured the eternal happiness of her
mate by having his ashes mingled with the sacred river of God. No
one will touch or associate with the caste who dress and burn the
dead, nor could any one be induced, save one branch of this caste,
to furnish the fire which lights the funeral pile, for which
sometimes large sums are exacted, in case the relatives of the dead
are wealthy.
The absence of women, other than coolies, which has struck us
everywhere in the East, is if anything even more marked in India,
where, so far, we have scarcely seen one woman of high caste. The
Mohammedans do not permit their ladies ever to leave the house,
and upon rare occasions, when temples must be visited, they are
closely concealed from view and driven in a close carriage or
carried in a sedan chair. The Hindoos are not quite so strict, and
we have seen a few in secluded streets going a few steps, but
closely muffled up and with faces covered.
Do you remember with what laughter the sun-spot theory was
received? At least I know I laughed when I first heard of it--but
here in India, where the rainfall is the prime condition of
existence to millions and the sun is much more powerful than with
us, the Meteorological Department has just reported that there is
apparently a sure connection between the rainfall and its
distribution and the spots upon the sun. When these spots are at
the minimum there is a tendency to prolonged excessive pressure
over the land and an unusual amount and irregular distribution of
rain.
"There is blood upon the moon,"
still stands as a poetic expression; but "there are great spots
upon the sun" must pass as presaging famine. There seems to have
been an element of truth after all in "the signs of the heavens"
of the astrologer, only the great law which governs them was
unknown.
* * * * *
THURSDAY, February 6.
We left Calcutta for the Hindoo Mecca, Benares, tonight, and had
our first experience of Indian railway travel, which proved to be
very comfortable. We had all to ourselves a first-class carriage
compartment containing two sofas lengthwise of the car and one
across; above these were three upper berths, to be let down, if
necessary, and used as beds. A smaller compartment contained
dressing-room, etc., for all of which there is no extra charge.
Evidently there is no field here for my enterprising friend Mr.
Pullman. Our route lay through the opium-growing district, and the
white poppies were just beginning to bloom. I did not know before
that only the white variety is grown, but, curiously enough, the
red flower is not nearly so productive. This set us to thinking
that there may, after all, be something in the Chinaman's
preference for a black dog to one of another color. By all means
let us have the two kinds analyzed and see whether the blood be
just the same. The opium question has given rise to much angry
discussion upon which we do not propose to pass an opinion. My
readers may safely assume, I think, that the difficulties we
encounter in restraining or abolishing the use of liquor among
ourselves, also surround the opium question in the East. It is
their liquor. China grows most of what she consumes, and I believe
would grow it all if the Indian drug was not admitted. Its
exclusion by the Chinese would not therefore seriously lessen its
use. Still it places England in a false position before the world
to enforce its admission by treaty stipulations. The sum involved
to the Indian revenue exceeds seven millions sterling per annum
($35,000,000); that is the net yearly profit made out of the
growth of the poppy. It would not all be lost, and perhaps not be
seriously reduced, were China free to exclude it, for large
quantities would be smuggled in, and the people would have it. I
wish England's hands were entirely free from all stain in
connection with this business. China should not be compelled by
England to admit a drug which is considered pernicious.
The total exports this year were ninety-one thousand chests,
valued at thirteen millions sterling, most of it to China. The
growing of the poppy is a government monopoly in the Bengal
province (Calcutta). Each year government enters into contracts
with cultivators to devote so many acres to its cultivation--an
advance upon the expected crops is made and final settlements at
the end of the season according to amount and quality produced.
The drug is extracted at two government factories. In the other
district, the produce of which passes through the Bombay
presidency, the cultivation of the plant is free, but a duty is
collected upon the opium.
We are in the dry season, and where not irrigated the vast plains
of India are parched. The soil is a light brown clay, and turns
readily to fine dust, which seems to blow over everything and make
all of one hue. Even the scanty muslin clothing of the people
becomes of this dusty color. The houses are only mud huts one
story high and roofed with coarse straw; an opening in one side
serves as a door, but with this exception the hovel is closed;
neither window nor chimney appears, and when fires are made the
smoke escapes through all parts of the roof, and when the roof is
closer than usual, through the door. This dusty, dirty mud color
of soil, streets, houses, dress, and people gives one an
impression of a more squalid poverty even than that of the
overcrowded Chinese in Shanghai. These latter have more clothing
and no dust, and their dirtiness seems a less objectionable form
of dirt.
One remarkable difference between these people and the Chinese is
that we never see the former eating, while the latter eat
frequently. I am told that the Indians have but two meals a
day--at noon and at eight in the evening, with a bite early in the
morning. As is well known, the Hindoos are strict vegetarians,
neither meat, fish, poultry, nor even eggs being allowed. The
result of a vegetable diet, if they are to be taken as a fair
example, is not such as to favor its general adoption. The
Mohammedans, on the other hand, eat everything but pork; like the
Jews, they forbid this one article, and I am informed that the
Mohammedans are a far sturdier race than their neighbors the
Hindoos; but they should be superior, as the advance from
Hindooism, with its numerous gods and idolatrous worship, to
Mohammedanism with its one god is an immense one. The claims which
Mohammed has upon the gratitude of mankind rest upon a solid
basis, for he it was who proclaimed to the East that there is but
one God, and announced himself as his prophet only, instead of
demanding that he himself should be worshipped as divine; but he
performed another great service, for he abolished the abominable
system of caste, and thus it comes that the most popular religion
in existence hails all its disciples, from the peasant to the
Sultan, as of one brotherhood, as Christianity does with hers.
There are nearly fifty millions of Mohammedans among the two
hundred and fifty millions of India's population, and it is to
them we must chiefly look for the regeneration of the native
races.
As we pass through the country we are surprised at the crowds of
gayly-dressed natives waiting at the crossings to pass the line,
and at the stations to take the trains. All the colors of the
rainbow are to be seen in their wraps. It is the season of
idleness just now, their two months of rest in the country, and
the entire population seem to be running about in holiday attire,
forming a striking contrast to their fellows in the towns, who sit
in their hovels hard at work, one crowding another in his seat.
Before England established free dispensaries for these masses the
rate of mortality must have been something incredible; even now it
is very high, although last year in the two provinces alone no
fewer than eleven hundred thousand patients were treated or
prescribed for by these institutions, which we rejoice to see
scattered throughout the country wherever we go. Nor in all her
illustrious record do we know a brighter page than that which
chronicles the rise and progress of these truly English
organizations.
Manufactures in India are not profitable at present: during the
scarcity of cotton, owing to the American war, large quantities
were grown here and fortunes made in the business; eventually
cotton mills were built in Bombay and jute mills in Calcutta,
which prospered for a time, but now that America, under the system
of free labor, has demonstrated her ability to supply cheaper and
better cotton than India, these enterprises languish. I counted
thirty-eight spinning and weaving companies in Bombay, and twenty-
one cotton-press companies; the shares of which were quoted in the
market, and found that on an average these would not command to-day
one-half the actual capital paid in. It is much the same with the
seven Calcutta jute companies. Cotton, both as to growth and
manufacture, in India, I believe has no future, save one contingent
upon the interruption of the American supply, of which there does
not appear much danger. But it must be borne in mind that the fall
in the value of silver so far is a direct gain to native productions.
The planter and manufacturer alike pay in the debased currency and
sell the product as far as it is exported for gold, upon which they
realize a handsome premium. America needs a continuance of low rates
for transportation to counterbalance this advantage of her Indian
rival.
* * * * *
BENARES, Saturday, February 8.
We started from our hotel early this morning to see the Hindoos
bathing in the sacred waters of the Ganges. Benares is to the
pious Hindoo all that Mecca is to the good son of the Prophet, and
much more beside, and he esteems himself happy if it is vouchsafed
him to die in sight of this stream and this city. Pilgrims flock
here from all parts of India, and thousands are carried from long
distances, while dying, that their eyes may behold, ere they
close, the holy city of God. At the junction yesterday, six miles
out, we came upon our first band of pilgrims, for they now
patronize the rail freely, men and women, each with the inevitable
bundle of rags which serves as his bed _en route_ and as a
change of clothing, to be blessed by washing in the Ganges. It
requires about a month to worship at every temple and do all that
the priests persuade these pilgrims to be essential for their
salvation, every ceremony, of course, producing revenue for this
class. Each Rajah of India has his temple upon the bank of the
river, and it is these handsome structures, situated on the cliff
which overhangs the river, that give to Benares its unparalleled
beauty. In each temple a priest is maintained who prays constantly
and bathes every morning as a substitute for his master, the
Rajah, but the latter comes in person also for one month each year
to perform the sacred rites. We were fortunate this morning in
seeing the Rajah of Nepaul at his devotions. He has a small
covered boat of his own, and we found him on his knees, in front
of it, gazing upon the sun, as we pulled slowly past in our boat,
his staff standing behind him in reverential attitudes. For one
full month this intelligent ruler, who speaks English fluently and
is well informed of the views Europeans hold of his religious
ideas, will nevertheless work hard, visiting daily the temples,
going through various exercises, and bathing every morning in the
Ganges. One other Rajah is here, and others are shortly to come
and do likewise. It seems so strange that these men still remain
slaves to such superstitions; but how few among ourselves succeed
in rising beyond what we happen to have been taught in our
childhood! It is very different, I am told, with those who have
received English ideas in their youth at the government colleges.
They make quick work of the Hindoo idols; but so far every one
here agrees with the Rev. Dr. Field when he says: "It needs very
little learning to convince the Hindoo that his sacred books are a
mass of fable. But this does not make him a Christian. It only
lands him in infidelity, and leaves him there." The
_Encyclopedia Britannica_ says that "the progress of
Protestant missions amounts at present to almost nothing." In Dr.
Mullen's report, down to 1871, the "whole force of English
missionaries--579, and of native preachers, 1,993--had produced a
native Christian population of only 280,600. There was probably a
much larger number in the south of India about the middle of the
eighteenth century." I heard everywhere corroborations of this
statement.
The wife of the Rajah, we heard, had yesterday performed the most
sacred of all the ceremonies under conditions of considerable
popular excitement. The sacred well, the stairs leading from it to
the river, and the bathing place at the river, were all covered
in; the crowd could only see the sedan chair which carried the
queen to the well, but the spectacle attracted great numbers. This
well is simply a trench about twenty-five feet long and not more
than three feet wide, but it must be thirty feet below the
surface. Broad steps lead to it from all sides. In this well every
Hindoo of good caste is permitted to wash, and there are always
many in it. The water is foul and offensive, yet such is its
reputed sanctity that no sin can be committed so heinous that it
cannot be washed away by it. The ceremony, fortunately, is
incomplete until one, rising from its stench, walks to the pure
water of the Ganges and bathes there. I think the ceremony must
typify man before purification, foul with sin, and then cleansed
by bathing in the pure Jordan afterward; but no one could give me
any information upon this point. At all events it was into this
sink that the Rajah's wife bravely immersed herself yesterday, and
it is here, too, the Rajah himself must come before he
leaves--poor man!
The place where the dead are burned was pointed out as we drifted
past in our boat, but it was then unoccupied. As we returned,
however, one body was in the hands of the attendants, who had
taken it into the river and were just in the act of pouring the
sacred water down the throat preparatory to the final scene. One
woman alone sat on the shore weeping, and two small children at
her side seemed not to understand why. It was still early morning,
and all was quiet. Our guide pointed out some who were evidently
friends, in conversation with men on a parapet above. They were
bargaining for the sacred fire to light the funeral pile.
Government prohibits the burning of the forlorn widow with her
husband's body, as was formerly the custom, but it is said many
widows wish this privilege even yet, nor can I blame them much.
I'm sure I don't see why, beyond the mere instinct of self-
preservation, they should have a wish to live on. Those educated
people among us who commit suicide have prospects before them
which might be called blissful compared with what confronts poor
widows in India.
We visited the principal temples and shrines in succession, but I do
not propose to rehearse their names and special virtues. There is a
great sameness about them, but the Monkey Temple differs from the
others in having several hundred monkeys running over it in every
direction. Like the rest, this is owned by a number of people, and
its shares are marketable property. Dr. Lazarus, the chief of the
medical department, tells us that the "river people," a term
embracing those who own the temples on the stream--just as we would
say the "steel rail" or the "pig metal" people at home--are very
much depressed, complaining bitterly that the revenues have fallen
away. One owner in the Monkey Temple, probably the most prosperous
of all, had some time ago asked what this trouble meant. He was
advised to sell his monkey stock as soon as possible, but up to the
present day he has found no one willing to invest in the property.
One of the high priests of another sacred shrine said to my
informant that he had seen in his day three ages--one of gold, one
of silver, and now he had reached the age of copper, and was only
thankful when he saw a few pieces of that. "The people still come as
of old, to worship, which costs nothing," he said, "but they don't
pay the gods more than a pittance. I wonder what we are coming to?"
While great allowance has to be made for the changed condition of
affairs throughout the world, which has seriously affected the
revenues of religious establishments everywhere, and which India has
had to share, aggravated by the loss of her cotton industry, still
it can hardly be doubted that Hindooism as a vital force is
crumbling slowly to pieces, and that the priests are losing their
sway over the masses. Caste also goes slowly with the tide of
change, and Brahmans are now occasionally found taking employment
below that of their caste; and while a high-caste Hindoo some years
ago would have considered himself defiled if even the garments of a
low-caste person touched him, he now rushes into the same railway
compartment among the general crowd and struggles for a seat with
various castes, and says nothing about it. One stand the English
home Government took, in deference to English ideas as opposed to
those of the Anglo-Indian authorities, which alone dooms caste,
sooner or later, to extinction: it would not permit different
classes on the railways to be established for Hindoos or
Mohammedans, or for castes of the former. Many residents in India
feared that this would prevent the natives from using the lines, but
the result has wonderfully belied these fears and vindicated the
sagacity of those who ventured to inaugurate this system; and now
one sees Hindoos and Mohammedans, high caste and low caste, jostling
each other in their efforts to get desirable seats in the
third-class compartments, where, by the way, they travel for less
per mile than anywhere else in the world, third-class fares in India
being uniformly one-half of a cent per mile. First-class fares, with
such sleeping-car luxuries as I have before described included, are
just about our rates with sleeping-cars not included--viz., three
cents per mile.
While Hindooism is thus passing away, but little progress is made
with Islam. The fifty millions of Mohammedans stand to-day where
they have stood for ages, and cry from their mosques morning and
night, "There is but one God, and Mohammed is his prophet." No
idols, no drunkenness, no caste. The contrast between their faith
and that of Christians is therefore much less marked, and our
guide says to us, with evident pride, "Hindoos believe many gods,
worship idols. _I believe like you_, one God, no idols."
India is thus in a state of transition, her caste and religion
both passing away. The work before this generation and probably
the next is to pull down and destroy. It will remain for those who
come after to begin the more difficult labor of building up.
We met at Benares strings of water-carriers, carrying brass
vessels on each end of a pole borne over the shoulder. These come
here for hundreds of miles on foot, and take back to their
customers in the country the sacred water of the blessed river. It
is a regular business, and furnishes employment for thousands of
men. Upon no account must this water be carried by railway and
deprived of its healing powers by being handled by unbelievers. It
must be carried by Hindoos of the proper caste on foot, or it has
no virtue.
Science invades everything nowadays, and the officials have
recently had the water of one of the sacred wells analyzed by a
chemist--audacious dog of an infidel--and here he comes with his
CO2 and all the virtue of this water of life is gone. It is found
unfit for human use, and the well is ordered to be closed. The
chemist, in the eyes of the ignorant natives, has sacrificed
spiritual for physical health; preferred the welfare of their
bodies to that of their souls, as is the custom with these wicked
scientists.
We pass booths in which native jewellers sit hard at work
fashioning rings, brooches, and other articles of personal
adornment. Their dexterity is marvellous; without elaborate
appliances of any kind, with only a small blow pipe and a few rude
tools, they will take a gold coin from you and before your eyes
shape it into any form selected. But it is said they must have a
model to copy from; no original design emanates from them. The
booths, or little shops, are curious affairs. They are built of
mud, with neither window nor door, the floor on which the artisans
sit being about four feet above the narrow street level.
I never was more thoroughly impressed with the position of the
European of India than to-day when pushing through the crowded,
narrow lanes of Benares. Our native guide went before us carrying
a whip which he cracked and brandished among the crowd, calling
out "Sahib! Sahib!" and the people, casting one glance behind, at
once hurried out of our way, making a clear track for our august
person supposed to represent the conquering race. The respectful
salaams, as we caught the eye of one native after another, their
deferential, not to say obsequious, attitude as we passed--all
this tells its story. That "all men are born free and equal" will
not enter the Hindoo mind for centuries--not till England has
brought it up to the standard of self-government, which it is
gradually doing, however, by its schools and colleges.
Benares has been famous for centuries for its manufacture of gold
and silver embroideries. I remember that Macaulay speaks of them
in his essay on Warren Hastings as decorating alike the court of
Versailles and the halls of St. James. We went to the native
village and saw the work carried on. How such exquisite fabrics
come from the antiquated looms situated in mud hovels it is hard
to understand, but they do. We saw one man who had no less than
thirty-three different tiny spools to work from in a piece not
more than a yard wide. All of these he had in turn to introduce in
the web, and pass through a greater or lesser number of threads,
the one starting in where the other left the woof, before one
single thread was complete from end to end of the warp and could
be driven into the pattern. The people of Benares also excel as
workers in brass.
To-day we had a unique experience indeed, being carried through
the principal streets of Benares on State elephants, kindly
provided for us by the Rajah of Benares. Mr. H., of New York, whom
we have met on his way round the world, and Vandy and I were the
riders. We were driven to the palace, and found there two huge
animals, gayly caparisoned, awaiting our arrival, surrounded by
servants in resplendent liveries. The elephants very kindly got
upon their knees, which rendered a short ladder only necessary for
us to mount by. The motion is decidedly peculiar, and, until one
becomes used to it, I should think very fatiguing; but we enjoyed
our elephant ride greatly, and the Rajah has our hearty thanks.
We are in the land of the cheapest labor in the world. It is
doubtful if men can be found anywhere else to do a day's work for
as little as they are paid in India. Railway laborers and coolies
of all kinds receive only four rupees per month, and find
themselves; these are worth just now forty cents each, or, say,
$1.60 (6s. 6d.) in gold for a month's service. Upon
this a man has to exist. Is it any wonder that the masses are
constantly upon the verge of starvation? Women earn much less, and
of course every member of a family has to work and earn something.
The common food is a pulse called gran; the better class indulge
in a pea called daahl. Anything beyond a vegetable diet is not
dreamed of.
Before leaving Benares I must speak again of the scene at the
river, which far excels any representation I have seen of it or
any description I have read. Photographs cannot be made to convey
a just idea of its picturesque beauty, because the view is
enlivened by such masses and combinations of color as Turner alone
could do justice to. Indeed, my first thought as I saw the
thousands on the ascending banks--one tier of resting-places above
another, culminating in the grand temples' towering at the
tops--was that I had seen something akin to this in a dazzling
picture somewhere. Need I say that it is in the Turner Gallery
alone where such color can be seen? He should have painted the
"Hindoo Bathers at Benares," and given the world one more gem
revealing what he alone, in his generation, fully saw in the
mind's eye, "the light which never shone on sea or shore." We have
voted this scene at Benares the finest sight we have yet
witnessed.
* * * * *
LUCKNOW, Tuesday, February 11.
We reached Lucknow at night. The moon was not yet shining, but the
stars shed their peaceful halo around this spot, to which the eyes
of the civilized world were so long directed during the dark days
of the mutiny. At the hotel upon arrival a lady's voice was heard
singing the universal refrain which nearest touches all English
hearts in India and expresses the ever dominant longing, "Home,
Sweet, Sweet Home."
There is no trace here of the massacres which have made this
region memorable. But is the past to be repeated? Who can assure
us that these bronzed figures which surround us by millions may
not again in some mad moment catch the fever of revolt? This is
the anxious question which I find intruding itself upon me every
hour. Truly it is a dangerous game, this, to undertake the
permanent subjection of a conquered race; and I do not believe
that after General Grant sees India he will regret that the
foolish Santo Domingo craze passed away. If America can learn one
lesson from England, it is the folly of conquest, where conquest
involves the government of an alien race.
Our first visit was to the ruins of the Residency, where for six
long months Sir Henry Lawrence and his devoted band were shut up
and surrounded by fifty thousand armed rebels. The grounds, which
I should say are about thirty acres in extent, were fortunately
encompassed by an earthen rampart six feet in height. You need not
be told of the heroic resistance of the two regiments of British
soldiers and one of natives, nor of the famous rescue. Hour after
hour, day after day, week after week, and month after month, the
three hundred women and children, shut in a cellar under ground,
watched and prayed for the sound of Have-lock's bugles, but it
came not. Hope, wearied out at last, had almost given place to
despair. Through the day the attacks of the infuriated mob could
be seen and repelled, but who was to answer that when darkness
fell the wall was not to be pierced at some weak point of the
extended line? One officer in command of a critical point
failing--not to do his duty, there was never a fear of that--but
failing to judge correctly of what the occasion demanded, and the
struggle was over. Death was the last of the fears of these poor
women night after night as the days rolled slowly away. One night
there was graver silence than usual in the room; all were
despondent, and lay resigned to their seemingly impending fate. No
rescue came, nor any tidings of relief. In the darkness one
piercing scream was heard from the narrow window. A Highland nurse
had clambered up to gaze through the bars and strain her ears once
more. The cooling breeze of night blew in her face and wafted such
music as she could not stay to hear. One spring to the ground, a
clapping of hands above the head, and such a shriek as appalled
her sisters who clustered round; but all she could say between the
sobs was: "The slogan--the slogan!" But few knew what the slogan
was. "Didna ye hear--didna ye hear?" cried the demented girl, and
then listening one moment, that she might not be deceived, she
muttered, "It's the Macgregors gathering, the grandest o' them
a'," and fell senseless to the ground. Truly, my lassie, the
"grandest o' them a'," for never came such strains before to
mortal ears. And so Jessie of Lucknow takes her place in history
as one of the finest themes for painter, dramatist, poet or
historian henceforth and forever. I have been hesitating whether
the next paragraph in my note-book should go down here or be
omitted. Probably it would be in better taste if quietly ignored,
but then it would be so finely natural if put in. Well, I shall be
natural or nothing, and recount that I could not help rejoicing
that Jessie was Scotch, and that Scotchmen first broke the rebels'
lines and reached the fort, and that the bagpipes led the way.
That's all. I feel better now that this is also set down.
Lucknow, so rich in historical associations, is poverty itself in
genuine architectural attractions, magnificent as it appears at a
distance. It is a modern capital. About a century ago a king of
Oude, in a moment of caprice, I suppose, determined to remove his
capital from Fyzabad to Lucknow. Palaces on a great scale were
hastily erected of common bricks and covered with white plaster.
These look very fine at a distance, but closer inspection reveals
the sham, and one is provoked because his admiration has been
unworthily excited. Several other kings followed and carried on
this imposture, each building his palace and tomb in this
untruthful way. What could we expect from kings content to lie in
such tombs but lives of disgusting dissipation? A simple marble
slab were surely better than these pretentious lies: anything so
it be genuine. However, retribution came, and the dynasty is
extinct, the present king living as a prisoner in Calcutta.
The bazaars of Lucknow are well worth seeing, with their native
jewellers, brass-workers, and other artificers, working in spaces
not more than six feet square. We begin to see persons and modes
which remind us of scriptural expressions--the water-carrier with
the goat-skin filled, "the hewers of wood and drawers of water,"
the latter usually working in gangs of five. An earthen incline is
built, leading up to the top of the wall which surrounds the well;
the well-rope passes over the shoulders of the drawers, and in
marching down the incline they raise the bucket. We came to-day
upon a lot of women grinding the coarse daahl. Two work at each
mill, sitting opposite one another, pushing around the upper stone
by means of upright handles fastened into it.
"And two women shall be grinding at the mill, and one shall be
taken and the other left,"
saith the Scriptures of old, but our coming revised and corrected
edition, I could not help hoping to-day, as I saw this picture for
the first time, will note an error, or at least intimate a doubt
of the correct translation of this passage; or, if not, the age
may require some commentator "more powerful than the rest" to
console us with the hope that while at the first call one was
indeed left, there would be a second, yea, and a third, a seventh,
and a seventy times seventh call, in one of which even she would
participate.
We have been this afternoon among the tombs of heroes--Lawrence
and Havelock, Banks and McNeil, Hodson and Arthur--men who fell in
the days of the mutiny. Lawrence's tomb is most touching from its
simplicity--a short record, no eulogy, only
"Here lies Henry Lawrence,
Who tried to do his duty."
"I have tried to do my duty," he said, as he breathed his last,
and this is all his tomb has to say of him; but isn't it enough?
One day in our drive we came upon our first elephant and our first
camel camp, hundreds of the latter and nearly two hundred of the
former being attached to the transportation department of the
army. They are said to perform work which could never be done by
other animals in this climate. Bullocks are the third class used
as carriers; these are taught to trot, and do trot well. I
remember one day in Ceylon one of them in a hackery gave us in the
mail coach quite a spirited race for a short distance, but it was
only to-day that I learned that camels are also so trained and
used as mail or despatch bearers where speed is necessary, and the
gait of a really good trained camel is said to be quite easy. If
development goes forward in this line, our posterity may be using
the camel in trotting matches with the horse. He would possess the
advantage over that favorite animal which the Chinaman has over
the European; he could go longer between drinks, and that counts
for much.
The quarters for troops at Lucknow are models; the officers'
quarters are surrounded and in some cases almost embowered by
vines and flowers; lawn-tennis courts, cricket grounds, ball
courts, and a gymnasium are provided for the private soldiers, and
are finer than we have seen elsewhere, and serve to make Lucknow,
with its beautiful gardens and long shady avenues, the one really
pretty rural spot we have seen in India.
* * * * *
WEDNESDAY, February 12.
We are on our way to Agra by rail, and expect to arrive in time to
drive out and see the Taj by moonlight. I have been reading more
carefully than before some descriptions of it, and keep wondering
whether this gem of the world is to prove a disappointment or not.
Most things which have been heralded like the Taj fail to fulfil
expectations at first, and how can stone and lime be so formed as
to justify such fulsome praises as have been bestowed upon this
tomb? One writer, for instance, exclaims, "There is no mystery, no
sense of partial failure about the Taj. A thing of perfect beauty
and of absolute finish in every detail, it might pass for the work
of genii, who knew naught of the weakness and ills with which
mankind were afflicted." The exact and prosaic Bernier had to
express doubts whether "I may not be somewhat infected with
'Indianisme,' but I must needs say I believe it ought to be
reckoned amongst the wonders of the world." Bayard Taylor exhausts
eulogy upon the Pearl Mosque, calling it "a sanctuary so pure and
stainless, revealing so exalted a spirit of worship, that I felt
humbled as a Christian that our noble religion had never inspired
its architects to surpass this temple to God and Mohammed;" but
when he comes to the Taj itself he is lost in rapture. There is
nothing, however, which the critics--those men who have failed in
literature and art--will not venture to attack, and I thought it
advisable to tone down my expectations by taking a dose of carping
criticism. Unfortunately for me, however, when I had got fairly in
with a writer who assures me "the design is weak and feeble," the
"shadows are much too thin," this misleader left me in a worse
condition than ever, for succumbing at last to the sweet
overpowering charms of the structure as a whole, and apparently
ashamed of himself for ever having dared to say one word against
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