CHAPTER IV.
The Second Birth.—Brahmun Consecrated Thread.—Discipline and Privileges of the Brahmun’s Life.
The Second Birth.—Brahmun Consecrated Thread.—Discipline and Privileges of the Brahmun’s Life.
In the interesting conversation of Christ with Nicodemus, St. John iii. 3–7, we hear him say, “Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” Again, “Marvel not that I said unto thee, Ye must be born again.” This doctrine or command, whatever name may be given it, has been known to the Brahmuns from time immemorial, and even unto this day it is considered as the vital part of this dispensation. How little does a Brahmun differ from our Lord in the importance of a second birth! Christ says, “born again,” the Brahmun says, “thejo,” second birth. There is a difference between Christ’s views and the Brahmun’s on this point, which shows the superiority of the former over the latter. Christ did not prescribe different modes of spiritual birth for different nations. “Man,” he says, “must be born of water and of the Spirit,” assume a new life of holy actions, of purity, of devout trust, of practical brotherhood, of disinterestedness, and of unsullied love, so as to make himself worthy to tread in the steps of the Saviour, and breathe the balmy odor that comes from the celestial groves; taste the fruits of theremovedtree of life, drink the water that issues from the great Fount of all bliss, dress in the robes of immortality, join his voice with the sweet, swelling chorus of angels, and enter into the promised mansions, to rest at the feet of the God of all.But the Brahmun does not include the whole human race, as being under the necessity of a spiritual birth. He cares for one people, and even among them he prescribes different rites. As the ceremony for the second birth of the low castes is not very important, I will omit a description of it, and direct the attention to that of the three privileged classes, namely, Brahmun, Aucherjea, and Boitho, physician.
When a boy has attained his twelfth year his parents fix a day, to make him “thejo,” by offering him a piece of consecrated thread to wear round his neck. If, on the day previous to the fixed one, it thunder or rain, the ceremony is postponed for eight successive days, and if it should rain again, the same measure would be taken. On the morning of the day appointed he is anointed and bathed, within an enclosure made of four banana-leaves stuck into the ground. He is conducted to the altar, where the priest, after the preliminary services, cuts three locks from the hair of his head. He comes down from the altar for the first time to undergo other ceremonies. Now the family barber shaves his head all over, and passes two gold rings through the lower part of his ears. Here a merry fun is practised. The boy, when he sits before the barber, holds a banana in his hand, with which he is required to strike him when he has finished his duties. Sometimes the boy holds a green, and consequently hard, banana in his hand, so to warn the barber to be very careful in his operation, that he might not suffer afterwards. When all this is ended he comes up to the altar, where, besides the family priest, his father or uncle is required to take part in the ceremony. After invoking the presence of the deities and presenting offerings to the spirits of the fourteen ancestors, the father first puts a cord, made of hairy leaves ofshur(akind of white reed), round the boy’s neck, which lies on his left shoulder, and, hanging round the left arm, makes a fold thereby. Then apobithoo, consecrated thread, made of three stitches tied into a knot, which symbolizes the holy, mysterious union of the three, Brohmo, Bishnōō, and Shibă, into one. A piece ofshabor, skin of deer, is tied with that thread. He wears a yellow or red robe, holds in his hand dundŏs, two staves, one made of Bāle wood and the other of Baoor or Bass. The leaves and fruit of the bāle are the chief favorites of Shibă, so much so that a dry bāle leaf is acceptable to him before a thousand varieties of odorous flowers. (In fact, almost every Hindoo deity is peculiarly fond of some especial leaf or flower, without which their worship is invalid. Thus Shibā lovesbāle leafortri-pothro,“three leaves in one stem.” Toolshēē, a leaf of a plant, is the favorite of Bishnōō; joba, a kind of large red flower, Kallee is fond of. The Shuresh-Shuttee likesbakusand gholghasa, the sun is fond of Corobēē, oliander, &c.) The mother of the boy comes first to give alms—a little raw rice, money, and a piece of thread—to the second born, who takes it in a yellow bag answering the purpose of a contribution box. The hundreds of guests who are invited in on this occasion are required, by their religious custom, to give gifts of a little money and a piece of thread. Occasionally some virtuous woman manages to offer the first gift, by paying all the expenses that accrue in the whole ceremony, which secures her the position of god-mother to thethejo. They then cover his face with a thick yellow veil, and conduct him to the room where he is to stay three or five days without seeing sun, moon, or the face of any one, except Brahmun. Henceforth he is a Brahmun, which means the “worshipper of Brohmo,” or the “knower of Brohmo.”
The discipline of a Brahmun life is grand in some respects, and in others tedious, dry, and fanatical, while its privileges are great and numerous. I will here briefly describe both. A Brahmun is to bathe early in the morning, regularly every day (if sickness does not interfere); worship and pray three times a day,—before sunrise, at noon, and in the evening; take one meal while it is day. The Hindoos do not use any table, china-plates, knives, forks, or spoons. When they take their meal they sit on the floor, put eatable things on marble or brazen platters, or silver, if they are rich. In place of knives and forks the fingers are used, which are furnished by Nature.[4]But over and above these, a Brahmun observes additional peculiarities, with which other castes have no concern at all. A Brahmun, when he sits to eat his meal, takes a drop of water on the palm of his right hand, touches it by the end of his tongue, saying “omrithō posthurnŏ moshee shō hă,” pours it on the ground, puts a little food five times to his mouth, saying: 1. “Pran-a-ishohā;” 2.“Opānā ishohā;” 3.“Shomānŏ ish oha;” 4. “Otha noish-oha;” 5. “Ba-naish-oha;” finally, he spares “hundred rice” at his plate, even if he has not enough. This I understand as charity taught in an indirect way, for the little remainder on his plate is for the ants, flies, &c. But what is most troublesomeof all is the silence enjoined in the ceremonial discipline of a Brahmun’s table. He must not speak a word; if he does, he is to suspend his eating immediately, by taking out if there be anything already in the mouth, and going without food until after the evening prayer. A very small number of the Brahmuns observe this all the days of their life, though they are required to do so; but all observe it for a year or two. It is a difficult task to put aside the long-contracted habit at once, and begin a contrary one in its place. The peevish, talkative boys suffer a great deal. They speak at the table, and thereby lose the meal. Not to speak of others, my own experience has taught me to dread this ceremony, and though I was very mild and careful, yet notwithstanding all my carefulness, I had to go without my meals five or six times in the course of every month, especially during the first half-year of my Brahmun life. The very day I becamethejo, at meal-time, my mother requested all present to leave the room, lest any should attract my attention, and make me speak. She herself, also, went out, slamming the door and giving me enough for one meal. Unfortunately, I wanted a little more milk, so calling my mother, by a new language, not by the use of the organs of speech, but by striking the floor with my left hand. Nobody understood my singular language, and reflecting awhile on the result of the new discipline and the advantage of talkativeness, carelessly, I sung out “Ma.” This sound reached her with the velocity of lightning. She rushed in, saying, “What is the matter?” “A little more milk, mother,” said I. “Poor child; to-morrow by this time you shall have plenty.” So saying, she took the plate away, with everything in it, charging me, if I wished for water, not to drink any until I had washed my mouth. I gazed around in vain. The yoke of superstition is reallytoo heavy to bear. In desiring to have something more, I lost even what I had already!
The privileges of a Brahmun are great. His person is sacred. It would be a sin if any one should dare to touch him by the foot, for the foot is a profane part of the body, as they believe. The caste Soodras, rising from the foot of Brohmo, became the lowest. When one priest accidentally touches another by the foot, he asks his pardon, saying, “Bishtŏ-bănōmō.” It would be considered a real favor if a Brahmun should tread on a physician or barber, or other low caste.
The religious Hindoos daily drink “pathuck joll,” before the first meal of the day. Pathuck joll is a little water, which they take on the palm of their hand, in which the Brahmun dips the end of his right toe. Especially do sick persons drink this water, hoping to be cured from the disease that troubles them. I have heard a great many people say that they have been entirely restored to health simply by drinking “pathuck joll,” or eating a little dust from a Brahmun’s foot. After a little acquaintance with the Christian doctrines, knowing what I owe to God and man,—that I am as sinful as others,—I abdicated the supremacy I had, and would not give the dust of my foot to any. As the consecrated thread which hangs round our neck distinguishes us from the other castes, and draws the sick and mistaken folks towards us, I used to hide it somewhere, under my clothes, in the streets of Calcutta or elsewhere in foreign places. Unfortunately at one time I had forgotten to hide it, and an old woman of nearly sixty came along and stretched forth her right hand towards me. Of course I understood what she meant by that, and in a loving tone said: “Mother, I cannot put my foot on your hand.” “Why not, child?” she replied. “I am not a Brahmun,according to your idea. I am no better than you. We shall both stand on the same level before God.” The old woman was ignorant and besotted, could not understand my meaning, and, in vain looking at me for the blessing, cried aloud in an angry tone, “If not a Brahmun, what are you then? A shoemaker, I guess.” Though I noticed her dim old eyes flashing fire and a color of indignation visible on her wrinkled cheek, yet I ventured a few words more. “There is no disgrace in being amoochēē, shoemaker. I would rather be a humble, meek moochēē, than a proud Brahmun.”
Brahmuns enjoy “brom-horthro,” free-lands, which have been granted to them by the ancient Hindoo sovereigns. The Moosulman kings, who ruled India before the British, did not encroach much upon this right of the Brahmuns, only here and there some Nabobs were eager to break this system, but to no purpose. Under the present government the Brahmuns enjoy their lands free of any tribute. But I must not deny that some priests possess several acres over and above what has been given them.
Some low caste people would sell any articles to a Brahmun at a low price, while others would not sell them to him, fearing he would not pay fully. When he touches anything by his hand, as fruits or vegetables, from a low caste’s farm, he will have it at any rate for nothing, or by the payment of a little or no money.
We read in our Scripture that the Brahmuns had absolute authority over the property as well as the life of other castes, and over their temporal and spiritual affairs. Frequent mention is there of some sad cases, which, though incredible, loudly speak of their despotism. On the other hand, we read of their acts of generosity, disinterestedness, and love. Of the former, here are some instances. Copeelmonēē consumed sixty thousand offsprings of Saugur in the ashes simply by looking at them in anger. Porickith, a Kais-th king, having insulted a “monēē” by putting round his neck a dead snake, died by the anger of the insulted Brahmun. The king Corno sawed his only son of five, by the command of a Brahmun. Various instances could be cited to prove the power of this high class of men, but I will soon illustrate some of their generous deeds. Amonēē Augusth, by his sanctity and power, put an eternal check on the monstrous cruelties of two giants, and relieved the millions of the poor victims from injustice and death. It is an imperative duty for them to entertain the guests of any caste, relieve the needy, restore peace, check injustice, and share one half of their sustenance with him who is without it.
“How are the Brahmun priests supported?” “Do they have a regular salary for their services?” &c.,—are the inquiries frequently made to me. So I think it worth while to answer these questions fully here, although they have been partially explained, and will be elsewhere. As the priesthood, the parish, the religious services in Christendom, are quite unlike those in India, it seems necessary to consider them briefly in order to give the Christian reader true ideas of them. In this country an energetic preacher can draw round him a large congregation. The people visit church after church in search of good, weighty, or sentimental sermons, and wherever they find what is agreeable to their taste they hire a pew, and become members of the same. Thus the father goes to the brick church, the mother to one of stone, the daughter to a wooden one, and the sons, not finding theology in either, spend the time at home. But in Hindoo countries everything is fixed, binding, and must be attended to. The priesthood is hereditary, gods thesame, the theology is well protected, contrived, authoritative, and religious services uniform, mechanical, and pleasing. They do not and cannot seek after a change; wherever they go, they see the same god, worship in the same way, the lamps are lighted, flowers scattered over the altar, incense burning, &c. In order to be settled over a rich people, the Brahmun depends little upon his “pulpit eloquence” or spiritual career; let him have, so to speak, “Abraham for his father,” and plenty and comfort will be his. After the death of a Brahmun, his parish, containing any number of families living in the same village, or scattered around the country, will be equally divided among his sons like other property of the deceased. In case one of the sons proves unworthy of the charge, unable to attend to the religious ceremonies at the houses of his people, either being engaged in some other profession, as most of the Brahmuns are now, or owing to his ignorance of the services, his people cannot go away from him and settle another over them.
A rich, free-thinking farmer in my village, being guided by a party feeling, and detecting his priest in some acts of deception, bade him farewell, and sat at the feet of his brother. In a few months he was summoned to appear before the Priest of the priests, where there are no idols, on the throne of reality. His bereaved family interpreted his sudden death as owing to the visitations of the gods, feared that the children would fall victims to it also, and, after a season of entreaties, became reconciled to the old priest. As the people are not required to congregate together for the purpose of receiving instructions from the priest, or joining in worship with him, they dwell in different villages, and the priest visits them personally when his presence is needed by especial events, such as death, birth, marriage, or any private worship which the Hindoos observe now andthen; and on general holidays he sends out his agents, himself being engaged at the house of some one rich Jorzman, parishioner. He has no monthly salary, but gets certain sums of money from each family under him on the day of worship. His income must be more or less in proportion to the wealth of his people. Sometimes one family gives him more than twenty could together. I know a rich Brahmun family, of low order, residing in a town four miles or more distant from the Calcutta Government House, who gave to the wife of its priest a lac of rupees ($50,000), because the gentleman of the family felt very much ashamed to hear his priest say his wife has not seen a lac of rupees at once. In this country the parish pays the preaching; in India they pay the priest.
There are numerous Brahmuns without a single family to attend to, yet they have an income. The very name Brahmun is asea, and the rivers, channels, pour into it from various directions. It is customary with the Hindoos, especially with the wealthy ones, to distribute a certain sum of money, clothes, or useful metallic articles to each Brahmun family in the place, at the birth and marriage of the children. If there be more wealthy persons in a place, the Brahmuns will get more. Again, these rich men give annually winter clothes or summer dresses to the Brahmuns, this being part of their religion. By receiving these gifts continually, they keep the substantial things for their family use, and exchange the rest for what they need. Thus a great many buy fine brass dishes in exchange for goblets, or give napkins or clothes as the price of salt or sugar. The people bring fruits, vegetables, fish, milk, &c. to the Brahmun family, no matter whether they are their priests or not. During my stay in this country, I have noticed such practices carried out here in some degree. The farmers bringbutter, potatoes, eggs, to the pastor; the difference being, that these bring presents to the pastor alone; the Hindoos do to the Brahmuns in general. Besides what they receive from these sources, the Brahmuns teach their children in secular studies, which secures employment for them in merchant or government offices.
Now almost everything is going on disorderly, as a forerunner of a great and good change I hope. From what I know, I should think the Brahmuns themselves (the most orthodox, conservative portions excepted) have little of that strong adherence to their profession which once characterized their predecessors.
My teacher, a Brahmun by caste, once remarked, that some priests would be willing to sell their sacred books, to buy Murray’s spelling for their sons with the price.