I am glad to tell you, that the British have put a stop to the sacrifice of children at that place; but mothers continue to destroy their children elsewhere, and will continue to destroy them until Christians send the Gospel to them. It is not improbable that vast numbers of children are annually destroyed in the Ganges. Mothers sacrifice them, in consequence of vows which they have made. When the time to sacrifice them has come, they take them down to the river, and encourage them to go out so far that they are taken away by the stream, or they push them off with their own hands.
I just remarked, that mothers will continue to destroy their children until the Gospel is sent to them. That the Gospel does prevent such things, the following circumstance will show. Several years ago, a missionary lady went from New England to India. As she was walking out one morning, on the banks of the Ganges, she saw a heathen mother weeping. She went up to her, sat down by her side, put her hand into hers, and asked what was the matter with her. "I have just been making a basket of flags," said she, "and putting my infant in it—pushing it off into the river, and drowning it. And my gods are very much pleased with me, because I have done it." After this missionary lady had heard all she had to say, she told her that her gods were no gods; that the only true God delights not in such sacrifices, but turns in horror from them; and that, if she would be happy here and hereafter, she must forsake her sins, and pray to Jesus Christ, who died to save sinners like herself. This conversation was the means of the conversion of that mother, and she never again destroyed any of her infants.
Such is the power of the blessed Gospel. And what the Gospel has done once, it can do again. If Christians will send it to them, with the blessing of God, the time will soon come when heathen mothers will no more destroy their children. And have you nothing to do in this great work, my dear children? When you grow up, cannot you go and tell them of the Saviour? Here is a very pretty hymn about a heathen mother throwing her child to a crocodile.
See that heathen mother standWhere the sacred currents flow,With her own maternal hand,'Mid the waves her infant throw.Hark, I hear the piteous scream—Frightful monsters seize their prey,Or the dark and bloody streamBears the struggling child away.Fainter now, and fainter still,Breaks the cry upon the ear;But the mother's heart is steel,She unmoved that cry can hear.Send, O send the Bible there,Let its precepts reach the heart;She may then her children spare,Act the mother's tender part.
See that heathen mother standWhere the sacred currents flow,With her own maternal hand,'Mid the waves her infant throw.
Hark, I hear the piteous scream—Frightful monsters seize their prey,Or the dark and bloody streamBears the struggling child away.
Fainter now, and fainter still,Breaks the cry upon the ear;But the mother's heart is steel,She unmoved that cry can hear.
Send, O send the Bible there,Let its precepts reach the heart;She may then her children spare,Act the mother's tender part.
I have heard of a little boy who learned this hymn. He was deeply affected by it, and wanted very much to give something to send the Gospel to India. But he had no money. He was, however, willing to labor in order to earn some. Hearing that a gentleman wanted the chips removed from the ground near his woodpile, he hired himself to him, removed the chips, got his money, and, with glistening eyes, went and delivered it up, to be sent to the heathen, repeating, as he went,
Send, O send the Bible there,Let its precepts reach the heart;She may then her children spare,Act the mother's tender part.
Send, O send the Bible there,Let its precepts reach the heart;She may then her children spare,Act the mother's tender part.
About one hundred miles above the mouth of the Hoogly is the city of Calcutta, and about five hundred miles above that city is the city of Benares. In these cities, as well as in other places, we see how much the heathen will contribute to support their wretched religion. A rich native in Calcutta has been known to spend more than one hundred thousand dollars on a single festival—the festival of the goddess Karle—and more than thirty thousand dollars every year afterwards during his life, for the same purpose. Not long since, a rich native gave at one time to his idols more than one million two hundred thousand dollars. And what have Christians ever done to honor their Saviour, which will bear a comparison with what the heathen do for their idols? Alas, alas, few Christian men or Christian women, in all the church, are willing to give even one-tenth of their annual income to the Lord. Most of those who are rich, hoard up their money, instead of spending it for the purpose of saving souls. And there are many persons who have never given a farthing to send the Gospel to the heathen. O, what will such say, when they must meet the heathen at the bar of God?
My dear Children—From what I said, in my last chapter, about the goddess Gunga, you see that the Hindoos worship goddesses as well as gods. There is another goddess much worshipped the wife of the god Siva. She has appeared in a thousand forms, with a thousand different names. Of all these thousand forms, Durga and Karle are the most regarded by the people. I will speak of Durga first. Of all the festivals in Eastern India, hers is the most celebrated. She has ten hands, in which she holds an iron club, a trident, a battle-axe, spears, thunderbolts, etc. Thus armed, she is ever ready to fight with her enemies.
Were you to be present in the city of Calcutta in the month of September, you might everywhere see the people busy in preparing for the yearly festival of this goddess. Images representing her you would find in great numbers for sale, as bread or meat is sold. In the houses of the rich, images are to be found made of gold, silver, brass, copper, crystal, stone, or mixed metal, which are daily worshipped. These are called permanent images. Besides these, multitudes of what are called temporary images are made—made merely for the occasion and then destroyed. They may be made of hay, sticks, clay, wood, or other such things. Their size varies from a few inches to twenty feet in height. If any persons are too poor to buy one of these images, they can make them for themselves. When the festival is near at hand, people are seen in every direction taking the images to their houses. After they are thus supplied, the festival commences. It lasts fifteen days. The greater part of this time is spent in preparing for the three great days of worship. Early on the morning of the first of the three great days, the Brahmins proceed to consecrate the images, or to give them, as they suppose, life and understanding. Until they are consecrated, they are not thought to be of any value. They are looked upon as senseless. A wealthy family can always receive the services of one or more Brahmins, and a few of the poor may unite and secure the services of one of them. At length the solemn hour arrives. The Brahmin, with the leaves of a sacred tree, comes near the image. With the two forefingers of his right hand he touches the breast, the two cheeks, the eyes, and the forehead of the image, at each touch saying the prayer, "Let the spirit of Durga descend and take possession of this image." By such ceremonies, and by repeating variousmuntrums, it is supposed that the Brahmins have the power to bring down the goddess to take possession of the image. Having been thus consecrated, it is believed to be a proper object of worship. Having eyes, it can now behold every act of worship which is made; having ears, it can be delighted with music and with songs; having a nose, it can smell the sweet perfumes which are offered; having a mouth, it can be delighted with the rich food which is prepared for it.
After the image is consecrated, the worship begins. The devotee comes near the image, and falls down before it. He then twists himself into a great variety of shapes. Sometimes he sits on the floor, sometimes he stands, sometimes he looks in one direction, sometimes in another. Then he sprinkles the idol with holy water, rinses its mouth, washes its feet, wipes it with a dry cloth, throws flowers over it, puts jewels on it, offers perfumes to it, and finishes by performing shaashtaangkum.
The worship of the idol is succeeded by a season of carousing, joy, and festivity. On this occasion, large offerings are made to the idols. A rich native has been known to offer eighty thousand pounds of sweetmeats, eighty thousand pounds of sugar, a thousand suits of cloth garments, a thousand suits of silk, a thousand offerings of rice, plantains, and other fruits.
Bloody sacrifices are offered up on such occasions. The king of Nudiya, some time ago, offered a large number of sheep, goats, and buffaloes on the first day of the feast, and vowed to double the offering every day; so that the whole number sacrificed amounted to more than sixty-five thousand. You may remember that king Solomon offered up on one occasion twenty-two thousand oxen, and a hundred and twenty thousand sheep. If all the animals slain throughout Hindostan, at the festival of the goddess Durga, were collected together, they would amount to a much larger number than Solomon offered.
After the worship and offerings have been continued for three days, the festival closes. As the morning of the first day was devoted to the consecration of the images, the morning of the fourth is spent in unconsecrating them. This work is done by the Brahmins. They profess, by various ceremonies, to send back the goddess to her heaven, concluding with a farewell address, in which they tell her that they expect her to accept of all their services, and return and pay them a visit again in the coming year. Then all unite in bidding her a sorrowful adieu, and many seem affected even to the shedding of tears.
Soon afterwards the images are carried forth into the streets, placed on stages or platforms, and raised on men's shoulders. As the procession moves onward through the streets, accompanied with music and songs, amid clouds of dust, you might see them waving long hairy brushes to wipe off the dust, and to keep off the flies and mosquitoes, which might trouble the senseless images. But where are these processions going? To the banks of the Ganges. And for what purpose? For the purpose of casting the images into the river. When all the ceremonies connected with the occasion are finished, those who carry the images suddenly fall upon them, break them to pieces, and then throw them with violence into the river. After this the people return to their homes.
I have now given you a specimen of the image-worship of the Hindoos; and how different is it from the worship which the Bible enjoins. "God is a Spirit; and they who worship him, must worship him in spirit and in truth." The very reverse of this, as you have seen, marks the worship of the heathen. They are not satisfied, unless they can have some object before them, to which they can make their offerings and their prayers. Thus daily are they engaged in a service which, above all others, is the most offensive and provoking to a holy God—a service which has caused him to declare, that idolaters shall not enter the kingdom of heaven. This, too, is the service in which every person, who has never given himself to the Saviour, is engaged; and, of course, in which you are engaged if you have not given your hearts to him. Those who think more of their money than they think of Christ, just as certainly worship the image which is stamped on a dollar or a cent, as the heathen worship their idols. Those who love their fathers and mothers, and brothers and sisters more than Christ, make these their idols. And are you, my dear children, yet out of Christ? If so, you have your idols. And what are these idols? Are they the world and its vanities? Then God is as angry with you as he is with the heathen, and unless you give up these idols, you too must be lost.
In a tract of mine, published by the American Tract Society, entitled, "Knocking at the Door"—a tract which Imost earnestlyentreat you to get and read—you will find an account of the death of a young lady, who had chosen the world and its vanities as her idols. I was her physician. After having attended her for about a month, I perceived, one morning, that her disease must soon prove fatal. I told her that she could not live. She then exclaimed, "Doctor, can I not live a month?" I informed her that she could not. Again she exclaimed, "Can I not live two weeks?" She was told that she could not live two weeks. And such a scene of horror followed as I never before witnessed, and may God be pleased to grant that I may never witness such another. Until laid upon a dying bed, I fear that she had neglected to think about her soul's concerns. Now she requested to be taken from it, and placed upon her knees, that she might call upon God to have mercy upon her. As her case excited much attention, some of the youth came to see her. These she warned, in the most solemn manner, not to put off repentance, as she had done, to a dying hour. Looking up at me, on one occasion, she exclaimed, "Doctor, cannot you save me?" Alas, what could I do for the poor sufferer. Witness, now, how anxious she was to obtain the favor of that God whom she had hitherto neglected. Yes, so anxious that she requested her friends not to allow her to sleep, that she might spend every remaining breath in calling upon God to have mercy upon her. One very affecting circumstance occurred. She requested her trunk either to be brought to her bedside, or to be opened. From this a ring, which was set with red garnets, was taken out by herself, or by another, and handed to her. She then called a young friend to her bedside, put the ring upon her finger, and said to her, "Don't you put off repentance, as I have done, until a dying hour." That ring is now in my possession. In less than forty-eight hours after I told her that she could not live, she passed into eternity. Would that I could show you that mournful countenance, which continued long after the last spark of life had become extinct; yes, even up to the moment when the lid of her coffin for ever hid it from our view. Never, never shall I forget it. It was a sad monument of the wreck within.
Now, my dear children, you would not like to die as, I fear, this young lady died. Well, then, if you would die differently, you must live differently. You must live for Christ, if you would die in Christ. And are you Christ's, or are you yet gay and thoughtless—as gay and as thoughtless as this young lady was, until laid upon her dying bed? If you are so, and if you continue to remain in this sad condition, your season of sorrow too will certainly come, and it will come when you expect it not. As the little insect which flies round and round your candle is dazzled with its brightness, and feels nothing but pleasure, until it unconsciously strikes the blaze with its little wings, and is swallowed up in the flame; so you are dazzled with the pleasures of the world, thinking nothing of the flames which may swallow you up in a moment, and put a stop to all your joys for ever. O, that the death-bed scene of Miss Matthews might have a happy effect upon you. O, that the solemn warning which she gave to her young friend, not to put off repentance as she had done, until a dying hour, might continue to sound in your ears, until you would no longer delay repentance. My dear children, this young lady, though dead, yet speaketh. She speaks to you. She calls upon you from her tomb—from the eternal world, to delay repentance no longer. Will you, then, be so mad as to turn a deaf ear to this call? Will you ever take another sip from the cup of unhallowed pleasure? Will you ever direct your little feet to the ballroom, or other places of sinful amusement? Will you hereafter prefer your worldly joys to Christ? O, you must not, you must not. It will not do for you to be lost. Who, O who can lie down in everlasting burnings? Who can dwell for ever with devouring flames?
My dear Children—In the preceding chapter I spoke of Karle. She, as I there mentioned, is the wife of Siva, and, like her husband, has the power of destruction. From the images made of her, it would appear that she is a female, of a black or dark blue color. She has four arms. In one hand she holds a sword, and in another a human head. Her hair is dishevelled, reaching down to her feet. Her countenance is most ferocious. Her tongue comes out of her mouth, and hangs over her chin. She has three eyes, red and fiery. Her lips and eyebrows are streaked with blood. She has two dead bodies for ear-rings, and wears a girdle around her loins—a girdle made of bloody hands, which she cut off from the bodies of her enemies. She has a necklace of skulls, which she took from the bodies of the giants and others killed by her.
Of all the Hindoo divinities, this goddess is the most cruel and revengeful. Such is her thirst for blood, that being unable at one time to procure any giants for her prey, in order to quench her thirst, she cut her own throat, that the blood issuing thence might spout into her mouth. Different acts of worship are performed to appease her. If, for example, a devotee should burn his body, by applying a burning lamp to it, it would be very pleasing to her. If he should draw some of his blood and give it to her, or if he should cut off a piece of his flesh and offer it as a burnt-offering, she would be still move pleased. If he should presentwholeburnt-offerings upon the altar, saying, "Hrang, brang, Karle, Karle! O, horrid-toothed goddess, eat, eat; destroy all the malignant: cut with this axe; bind, bind; seize, seize; drink this blood; spheng, spheng; secure, secure; salutation to Karle," she would be much delighted. It is said that she will be pleased for three months, if the people offer her the blood of a crocodile—for a thousand years, if they offer her the blood of one man, and a hundred thousand years, if they offer her the blood of three.
This goddess is the patroness of thieves. To her they pay their devotions, to obtain help to carry on their wicked delights. Gangs meet together, and, after having offered bloody sacrifices, and worshipped their weapons, and having drunk some intoxicating liquor, and rubbed their bodies with oil, they go forth to rob. They have a prayer, which they offer when they worship their weapons. It is as follows: "O, instrument formed by the goddess, Karle commands thee to cut a passage into the house, to cut through stones, bones, bricks, wood, the earth, and mountains, and cause the dust thereof to be carried away by the wind." Scattered throughout India, there is a lawless set of men whose profession it is to get their food by murder. They are called Phansiagars, or Thugs. They owe their origin and laws to Karle. They say that she told them to become murderers and plunderers. They are called Phansiagars, from the name of the instrument which they use when they murder people. Phansiagar means a strangler, and they use a phansi, or noose, which they throw over the necks of those whom they intend to plunder, and strangle them. These Phansiagars are composed of all castes, Hindoos, Mahommedans, pariahs, and chandellars. This arises from the circumstance that they never destroy the children of those whom they rob and murder. These children they take care of, and bring up to their own horrible mode of life. They always murder those whom they rob, acting upon the maxim that "dead men tell no tales." A gang of these robbers varies from a dozen to sixty or seventy persons. These divide into small parties. Those whom they murder are travellers, whom they happen to meet on the road. Sometimes two or three of a gang will take up their station in a choultry, or place where the traveller stops, and while he sleeps, they rouse him from his sleep, and cast the noose over his head and kill him. It takes two persons to kill a man. One casts the noose over his head, and immediately tightens it with all his strength; the other strikes him on the joint of his knees as he rises, which causes him to fall forwards. After he has fallen, they kick him on the temples till he dies, which is usually in a minute. They never commit a murder until they have taken every precaution not to be found out. They will follow a traveller for weeks, if necessary, before they destroy him. After they have murdered him, they gash the body all over and bury it. They gash it, that it may not swell, and cause cracks to take place in the ground, which might cause the jackals to dig down to the body, and thus expose their guilt. If a dog accompanies the person, they always kill it, lest the faithful creature should lead to the discovery of his master. They think it to be a very good act to give a part of the plunder, which they get when they murder a person, to their goddess. If they fail to put him to death according to their rules, they suppose that they have made her angry, and they make offerings to her, that she may be appeased. Thus, you see that their religion teaches them to commit the blackest of crimes.
The reason why this people gash and bury the bodies of those whom they murder, is as follows. They say that the goddess used to save them the trouble of burying the corpses of their victims by eating them, thus screening the murderers from all chance of being found out. Once, after the murder of a traveller, the body was, as usual, left unburied. One of the Phansiagars employed, unguardedly looking behind him, saw the goddess in the act of feasting upon it. This made her so angry, that she vowed never again to devour a body slaughtered by them; they having, by this one act of curiosity, forfeited her favor. However, as an equivalent for withdrawing her patronage, she plucked one of the fangs from her jaw, and gave it to them, saying that they might use it as a pickaxe, which would never wear out. She then opened her side and pulled out one of her ribs, which she gave them for a knife, whose edge nothing could blunt. Having done this, she stooped down and tore off the hem of her garment, which she gave to them for a noose, declaring that it would never fail to strangle any person about whose throat it might be cast. She moreover commanded them to gash and bury the bodies of those whom they destroyed.
The Phansiagars bring up their children to their own profession. To learn this, the boy is placed under the care of a tutor. Sometimes his father is his teacher. By him he is taught that it is just as proper to murder a man, as it is to kill a snake which lies in his path and would bite him as he passes. He is not permitted at first to see the murders, but merely a dead body; his mind being gradually prepared for the sight. After this, the dreadful secret of his trade is, by degrees, told him. When he expresses a wish to be engaged in this horrid business, they tell him all about it. In the meantime he is allowed a small part of the plunder, in order that his desire to commit these murders may be increased; since it is only by murder that the plunder is obtained. He is from time to time allowed to assist in some things, while the murder is taking place, or allowed to be present to see how the business is managed. It is not, however, until he becomes a man, that he is permitted to apply the noose. To attain this privilege, he usually devotes eight or ten years. Before he can commit a murder, his tutor must present him with a noose. This sets him loose upon the world, as a licensed murderer. When the tutor is about to give him the noose, he takes him apart, and solemnly enjoins it upon him to use it with skill, as it is to be the means of his earning his food, and as his safety will depend upon the skill with which it is used. After he receives it, he tries his skill in strangling a person the first opportunity that offers.
By the course of education which the Phansiagars undergo, they become so fond of their dreadful occupation, that nothing can induce them to quit it. Some who have been employed in the East India Company's service, have always returned to their business when an opportunity offered of a successful enterprise.
When the Phansiagars become old, they do not quit the service, but act as watchers, and decoy the traveller, by some false tale of distress, into some distant place, where he is murdered.
Women are sometimes admitted to the society of these plunderers, and, on some occasions, are allowed to apply the noose. They select a handsome girl, and place her in a convenient spot, where, by her beauty, or by a false story of distress, she may decoy some unsuspecting traveller, and be the means of his destruction. Should he be on horseback, she will induce him to take her up behind him; after which, when an opportunity offers, she throws the noose over his head, leaps from the horse, drags him to the ground, and strangles him. I will mention an instance. It happened that a horseman of Coorg, in the Madras presidency, was passing by a spot where one of these interesting-looking girls was stationed. She told him a piteous story of having been robbed and badly treated, and begged him to assist her. Feeling sorry for her, he offered to take her behind him, on his horse, and thus assist her a few miles on her journey. She expressed much gratitude for his kindness, and mounted. Soon afterwards she suddenly passed a noose over his head, and, drawing it with all her might, endeavored to pull him from his saddle. At this moment, a number of Phansiagars started from the neighboring thicket and surrounded him. The murderess then slipped from the horse; but the Coorg striking his heels into the horse's sides, it threw out its hind legs with great violence, and struck to the ground the girl, who immediately let go the cord. He then drew his sword, and, cutting his way through the robbers, effected his escape. He wounded two of them severely. These men were shortly afterwards taken, and, through their means, twelve others fell into the hands of the judicial officers of the king of Coorg, including the girl who attempted the murder. They were all put to death.
And is it possible that such persons can go to heaven? How could such ever relish its pure joys? What would they do, could they be admitted there? My dear children, it is a charity which has no foundation, to suppose that the heathen can go to heaven. I have preached the Gospel to tens of thousands of them, but I never saw one who had the least atom of a qualification for that holy place. "They have all gone out of the way." Every crime which the apostle Paul speaks of in the latter part of the first chapter of his epistle to the Romans, they commit, and crimes of so dreadful a nature that I cannot mention them—crimes which, should they be written in the Bible, would cause the Bible to be a sealed book for ever.
My dear Children—As the heathen have no Bible to direct them, they have devised various means by which they expect to obtain the favor of their gods, and get to heaven. I will mention some of these.
Some burn a lamp in a temple. They think that this is a very meritorious act. Some roll on the ground after the god, as he is carried in a great car or chariot around the temple. It is customary for the people to build very high cars or chariots, and cover them with very beautiful cloths. They also tie the cocoa-nut blossom and plantain-tree within them, and attach great ropes to them. When they are ready to drag these cars, or chariots, they bring their gods of gold or of brass from the temples, and place them on them. Then one, two, three, six, nine hundred, and even a thousand persons, when the cars are very large, catch hold of these ropes and drag them around the temple. While they are doing this, many of the heathen, to fulfil vows which they made when in sickness, and at other times of distress, throw themselves on the ground, and roll over from side to side, and frequently much injure themselves.
Some swing on great hooks, which are passed through the tender parts of their backs. Sometimes they swing for half an hour; sometimes an hour. The longer they can bear the torture of the swinging, the more acceptable they suppose it will be to their goddess. It occasionally happens, that the flesh in which the hooks are fastened gives way, in which case the poor creature is dashed to the ground. When this occurs, the people hold him in the greatest abhorrence. They judge him to be a great criminal, and suppose that he has met a violent death in consequence of sins which he committed in a former birth.
Not long since, I attended one of these hook-swingings, not far from the city of Madura. It took place on the morning of June 8th, 1848, just twenty-nine years after I first left America for India. It should have taken place on the preceding afternoon; but one of the axle-trees of the car, which was to support the machine on which the man was to be elevated in the air, was broken. Nothing, of course, could be done until it was repaired. The carpenters and others worked with great diligence until about eleven o'clock at night, when every thing was prepared for the swinging. I expected immediately after this to witness the ceremony. It however did not take place until the morning. While waiting for the man who was to be swung to make his appearance, I took a pencil and made a drawing of the machine to which he was to be fastened. The picture on the first page of the book will give you some idea of it.
Yon have, perhaps, often seen a well-sweep. The long beam in the picture is swung in the same manner as is the well-sweep, with a single exception. In addition to its usual motion, it is made to turn horizontally. The cuts which you may have seen, in two or three of my little books, differ much from the above; of course different machines are used at different times. There are stationary swingings, as well as swingings of the kind to which I just alluded.
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Between six and seven o'clock in the morning, the man who was to be swung made his appearance for a few moments, and then disappeared. The hooks by which he was to be swung, as well as the iron rods with which a number of devotees were immediately to pierce their sides, were carried through the streets, and held up that they might be seen by the people. Soon afterwards the man again appeared with the hooks in his back, and went up to the end of the beam to which he was to be fastened. This, of course, was lowered. Notwithstanding the dense multitudes of people, I made my way to the same spot, determined to be satisfied whether or not there was any deception in the application of the hooks. There was no deception. They passed through the skin, on the sides of the backbone. To these hooks were attached yellow ropes, by which he was fastened to the beam, as you will perceive in the picture. This being done, the men, five or six in number, who had hold of the ropes fastened to the end of the beam which you see resting on the ground, and which was then, of course, high in the air, drew him up until the beam lay horizontally. Then, after making him perform one circular motion around the car, they elevated him, as you see in the picture. When thus elevated, it was thought that he was forty feet from the ground. All being ready, the people seized the ropes which you see in front of the car, and began to draw it. Mr. Chandler and myself accompanied it through the streets, until it came to the place from which it set out. The distance of ground passed over was at least half a mile, and the time in which the journey was accomplished exceeded an hour. Of course he was swinging more than an hour. As the car passed through the streets, the people threw plantains from the tops of the houses to the crowds below.
The man who was swung was adorned with flowers and other ornaments. He had a tinselled turban on his head. His body was rubbed over with a yellow paste, made, most probably, from the sandal-wood. Around his ankles were rings, hung with little bells, which he made to tinkle, as he was swinging, by striking his legs together. He wore a dark or black pair of pantaloons, which came a little below the knees, and which had a border of gold around them. He held a handkerchief in one hand, and a knife somewhat resembling a dagger, in the other. These he kept in constant motion, by moving his arms. On one occasion, a bunch of plantains was tied to one of the long ropes which you see hanging down by the side of the swinger. These he drew up, and afterwards scattered over the people on a house opposite to him.
After following the car for a quarter of a mile or more, we went before it, and there witnessed another appalling sight. There were five or six men, who had the rods of iron which I just mentioned passed through the skin of their sides. They were dancing along, and, as they danced, they made these rods go backward and forward through the skin.
After the car had reached the place from which it set out, the end of the beam from which the man was swinging was then lowered and he was untied. Again I looked very carefully at the hooks in the back. The people say that no blood is shed by their introduction, and consider this to be a miracle. The falsity of this assertion was shown by the blood which I saw on the side of one of the wounds.
I have been long in this country, and consequently have become so familiarized with heathenism, that my feelings, though deeply wounded at this sight, were not so keenly affected as were those of my new associate, Mr. Chandler. He has been on heathen ground but a short time. When they tied the man to the beam, he was unnerved and wellnigh overcome; and he told me, that during all the time he was following the car, he felt like shedding tears.
While following the car, the young men of America came into my mind. They refuse to come, said I, to help these miserable creatures. O, they will not come—they will not come. I thought, that if many of the dear children of that land—children to whom I lately preached, as well as others, could witness this poor creature swinging from the end of a long beam, far above the tops of the trees, and that, too, by hooks passing through the tender parts of his back, they would say, we will, by and by, become missionaries, and, by the help of God, proclaim to the heathen that there is a Saviour.
On the evening of the day on which the swinging takes place, another act of great cruelty is practised. Devotees throw themselves from, the top of a high wall, or a scaffold of twenty or thirty feet in height, upon a bed of iron spikes, or on bags of straw with knives in them. Many are often mangled and torn. Others are quickly killed.
At night, many of the devotees sit down in the open air, and pierce the skin of their foreheads, by inserting a small rod of iron. To this is suspended a lamp, which is kept burning till daylight.
Sometimes bundles of thorns are collected before the temple, among which the devotees roll themselves without any covering. These thorns are then set on fire, when they briskly dance over the flames.
Other devotees swing before a slow fire; some stand between two fires, as you see in this picture.
Some have their breasts, arms, and other parts stuck entirely full of pins, about the thickness of small nails, or packing needles.
Another very cruel torture is practised. Some of the devotees make a vow. With one hand they cover their under lip with wet earth or mud. On this, with the other hand, they place some small grains, usually of mustard-seed They then stretch themselves flat on their backs, exposed to the dews of night, and the blazing and scorching sun by day. Their vow is, that from this position they will not stir, that they will not move nor turn, nor eat nor drink, till the seeds planted on their lips begin to sprout. This usually takes place on the third or fourth day. After this they arise, and then think that they are very holy.
There is a class of devotees in this country called Yogis, whose object it is to root out every human feeling. Some live in holes and caves. Some drag around a heavy chain attached to them. Some make the circuit of an empire, creeping on their hands and knees. Some roll their bodies from the shores of the Indus to the Ganges.
The Rev. Mr. Heyer, in one of his letters from India, says, that an Indian devotee has spent more than nine years on a journey from Benares to Cape Comorin, that is, from the 27th to the 7th degree of north latitude. The whole journey is made by rolling on the bare ground, from side to side. When he comes to a river, of course he cannot roll over it. He therefore fords it, or passes over it in a boat, and then rolls on the banks of the river just as far as the river is wide. By doing this, he supposes that his determination to roll all the way is fully carried out.
Some devotees hold up one or both arms, until the muscles become rigid, and their limbs become shrivelled into stumps. In the above cut, you have a representation of a man with one of these shrivelled arms. See how long his finger-nails have grown. One has run through his hand and back through his arm. Some stretch themselves on beds of iron spikes. Some wear great square irons on their necks. I have seen not only a man, but a woman, with these great square irons around their necks, each nearly two feet in length and two feet in breadth. These they put on for the purpose of fulfilling some vow which they have made. For instance, if a mother has a very sick little boy, she will say, "Now, Swammie, if you will cure my little boy, I will have a square iron put on my neck, and wear it all my life." After this vow is made, if the little boy gets well, the mother thinks that her Swammie has cured him, and to fulfil her engagement she will have one of these irons put on her neck.
Other devotees throw themselves from the tops of precipices, and are dashed to pieces; some bury themselves alive in holes, which their own relatives have dug; some bind themselves with ropes or chains to trees, until they die; some keep gazing so long and so constantly at the heavens, that the muscles of their neck become contracted, and no aliment but liquids can pass into the stomach.
But I will not continue this subject. You perceive, my dear children, what a wretched religion that must be which encourages its followers to perform such acts. And how vain are all these acts—how utterly destitute are they of any merit. Those who practise them are not made better by them, and they are just as far from the kingdom of heaven after having performed them, as they were before. The Christian religion encourages no such things. It tells us to perform no pilgrimages to holy places, to inflict no self-tortures. But it has its requirements, and these are very simple, and may easily be performed by all who are willing to do their duty. These requirements are, repentance, forsaking sin, faith in Christ, and a supreme devotedness to his service. Have you, my dear children, attended to these requirements? If not, you are in a much worse condition than these poor heathen of whom you have been reading. They are not as guilty before God as you are. They know not their Master's will. Still, they must perish, unless the Gospel is sent to them. But though they perish, their punishment will be lighter than the punishment of those who refuse to love and obey the Saviour. That servant who knows his Lord's will, and prepares not himself, neither does according to his will, shall be beaten with many stripes. But he that knows not, and does commit things worthy of stripes, shall be beaten with few stripes. Should it be your sad lot to perish at last, it would be far better for you to go down to hell enveloped in all the darkness of a heathen land, than to go down to hell from a land of such gospel light and privileges as you enjoy.
My dear children—From what I have already told you, you know that the Hindoos are a cruel people. But I have not told you of the extent to which they carry their cruelty. Perhaps it is shown to the highest degree in their practice of the suttee, or burning of widows. The British have abolished this rite throughout their dominions in India. They have also made great exertions to have it abolished in the territories of the native princes, but I am sorry to say, that in some of these territories it is still practised. Within the last three years, twenty-three of the princes just alluded to, have issued orders for its abolishment throughout their dominions. These orders have probably been issued solely in consequence of their fear of the British power, for it is a practice which is riveted in the affections of the people. This power they know that it will be dangerous to resist.
In my "Sermon to Children, on the Condition of the Heathen," I mentioned, that the sacred books of the heathen encourage the suttee. I also mentioned several instances, in which widows had been burned to death with the corpses of their husbands. Even though you may have seen that book, it will be well for me to give you two or three other cases, to impress your minds more fully with the horrors of the Hindoo religion. The first took place in a village of Tanjore. A merchant having died, his wife, who was about thirty years old, determined to burn herself with his corpse. The news of what she was going to do, quickly spread in every direction, and large numbers of people collected to witness the burning. After she was adorned with jewels and dressed in her best clothing, and after her body was tinged with the yellow infusion of sandal-wood and saffron, bearers arrived to take away the corpse with the wretched woman. The body of the man was placed on a car, ornamented with costly stuffs, flowers, etc. There he was seated like a living man, elegantly decorated with all his jewels, and clothed in rich attire.
The corpse being carried first, the wife followed in a rich palanquin. As she went along, the surrounding multitudes of people stretched out their hands towards her to show how much they admired her conduct. The women in particular went up to her to wish her joy, apparently desiring to receive her blessing, or at least, that she would pronounce over them some pleasing word. She tried to satisfy them all, saying to one, that she would long continue to enjoy her worldly happiness, and to another, that she would be the mother of many beautiful children. Another was informed, that she would soon arrive at great honor in the world. These, and similar expressions, she made to all who came near her, and they departed with the full belief that they would enjoy all the blessings of which she had spoken. She also distributed among them some betel-leaves, which they gladly received as relics, or something of blessed influence.
During the whole procession, which was very long, her countenance was serene and even cheerful, until they came to the pile upon which she was to die. Then she suddenly became pensive. She no longer attended to what was passing around her. Her looks were wildly fixed upon the pile. Her face grew pale. She trembled with fear, and seemed ready to faint away.
The Brahmins, who took the lead in this ceremony, with her relations, seeing her sad condition, ran to her, and endeavored to restore her spirits, but she seemed not to know what they said, and answered not a word.
They made her quit the palanquin, and her nearest relatives took her to a pond of water which was near the pile, where they washed her. They then attended her to the pile, on which the corpse of her husband had already been laid. It was surrounded with Brahmins, each with a lighted torch in one hand, and a bowl of melted butter in the other, all ready, as soon as the poor victim was placed on the pile, to envelope her in fire.
The relatives armed with muskets, sabres, and other weapons, stood closely around in a double line, for the purpose, it was said, of making her afraid, if she might wish to draw back, or of frightening any body who might pity her, and endeavor to rescue her.
At length the time for firing the pile being proclaimed, the young widow was stripped of her jewels, and led on towards the pile. She was then commanded to walk three times around it, two of her nearest relations supporting her by the arms. The first round she accomplished with tottering steps; but in the second, her strength forsook her, and she fainted away in the arms of those who were holding her. They were obliged to drag her between them for the third round. Then senseless, she was thrown upon the corpse of her husband. At that instant, the multitude made the air to ring with their shouts of gladness, while the Brahmins poured the butter on the dry wood, and applied the torches. Instantly the whole pile was in a blaze.
As soon as the flames began to rage, the poor woman, now in the midst of them, was called upon by name, from all sides; but as insensible as the corpse on which she lay, she made no answer. She entered eternity, suffocated at once, most probably, by the flames.
The second case of suttee which I shall mention took place at the death of the rajah, or king of Tanjore. He left behind him four wives.
The Brahmins having determined that two of these four should be burned with the corpse of their husband, and having selected the two whom they thought best to sacrifice, they told them of what awaited them. They received the information with apparent joy. A refusal would have been attended with their utter disgrace.
One day only was necessary to get ready for the funeral ceremonies. They were conducted as follows: In a field somewhat distant from the palace, the people made a hollow, not very deep, but about twelve or fifteen feet square. Within it they made a pyramid of the sweet-smelling sandal-wood. On the middle of the pyramid, a scaffold was built in such a manner that the posts could easily be taken away, by which means the scaffold would fall at once. On the four corners of the platform, large jars were placed, filled with melted butter, to besmear the pyramid, that it might be the more easily set on fire.
The following was the order of the procession. It was headed by a great number of soldiers under arms. They were followed by a multitude of musicians, chiefly trumpeters, who made the air reëcho with their melancholy sounds. Next came the body of the king upon a splendid palanquin, richly adorned. This was surrounded by the nearest relations and by the priest of the king. They were all on foot, and without their turbans in token of mourning. A large party of Brahmins formed around them as an immediate escort. The two wives who were to be burned with the corpse came next, each borne on a palanquin. During the journey they appeared calm and cheerful. The troops kept off the immense crowds who were assembled from every direction.
The two queens, loaded with jewels, were attended by their favorite women, with whom they occasionally conversed, and by their relations of both sexes. To many of these they had made presents before leaving the palace. They were also accompanied by thousands of Brahmins, collected from different quarters. These were followed by an innumerable multitude of persons of both sexes. When they arrived at the ground where they were to be burned, the two victims were made to descend from their palanquins, for the purpose of performing the preparatory ceremonies. They went through the whole without showing any fear until towards the close, when their countenances began to change, and their three circuits around the pile were not performed without considerable effort to maintain calmness.
In the meantime, the body of the king had been placed on the scaffold over the platform. The two queens were also laid down beside the corpse, one on the right hand, and the other on the left, and they joined hands by stretching them over the body. The astrologer having then declared that the happy moment was come for firing the pile, the Brahmins repeated several prayers in a loud voice, and sprinkled the pile with holy water. When these ceremonies were finished, a signal was given, and the pillars which supported the pyramid and the scaffold were suddenly taken away. Immediately the women were covered with the falling mass of timber, which tumbled over them with a crash. At the same instant the pile was fired in all its parts. On one side, the nearest relative of the king applied his torch, and on the other side, the priest; while the Brahmins, in every quarter, were pouring jars of melted butter on the flames, creating so intense a heat as must instantly have consumed the victims. Then the multitude shouted for joy, and the relations approaching the pile also set up a loud cry, calling them by their names. They supposed that they heard a voice in answer pronouncingEnna?that is,What? but the fall of the platform, and the immediate bursting out of the flames, must have stifled them at once.
Such was the miserable cud of these poor unhappy queens—unhappy victims of the most cruel religion that ever disgraced the earth.
Not unfrequently the sons take a prominent part in destroying their mothers. This will appear from the following case. A Brahmin died, and was brought to the place of burning. His wife was fastened to the pile, and the fire was kindled, but the night was dark and rainy. When the fire began to scorch the poor woman, she contrived to disentangle herself from the dead body, and creeping from under the pile, hid herself among some brushwood. In a little time it was discovered that there was but one body on the pile. The relations immediately took the alarm, and searched for the poor creature. The son soon dragged her forth, and insisted that she should throw herself on the pile again, or drown or hang herself. She pleaded for her life at the hands of her own son, and declared that she could not embrace so horrid a death; but she pleaded in vain. He urged, that he should lose his caste if she were spared, and added, that either he or she must die. Unable to persuade her to hang or drown herself, the son and the others present tied her hands and feet, and threw her on the funeral pile, where she quickly perished.