The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1886-05-20
A Holy City.

The most remarkable part of the
spectacle presented by the river face of
Benares is its population, resident and
immigrant. Throughout the length of
this northern shore, where the flights
of steps and the slopes of the temples
come down to the Gauges, is seen al
day long an immense crowd of de-
voices, of all ages, ranks, and raiment,
and of both sexes, bathing in sacred
river, or praying by its edge, or wash
ing their robes of pilgrimage, or bring.
ing their dead to be burned. Imagine
what an artistic effect results from such
a fringe of life and of color between
the steep multi-coiored back ground of
the steps and temples and the shining
waters of the stream. Throngs of
browns skinned men and women, boys
and girls, stand waist-deep along the
bathing stations, whispering their sup
plications and pouring the holy liquid
over neck and breast and loosened
black hair. Groups of brigllt-clad
women, led by their Brahman gurus,
come joyously down the stairs from far
off towns and jingles, to lay their scat
let, saffron green, and rose-color saris
aside with the ghat-keepers, and wash
their innocent sins away in Gunga. Big
umbrellas are everywhere erected in
the sand or mud, inscribed with Ram,
RAM" and under them, shaded from
the sun, family parties sit and chatter,
or pray in silent accord, arrived, after
immense marches, TO be laved in and
saved by Gunga. Sick people lie, visit
full and wan, on charpoys, brought to
her beneficient side, that they may hear
the ripple of the Great Mother" and
feel the healing wind blow from her
waves; while, at the foot of the burn
ing Chats, where the people who sell
the "deadwood" are raking for white
bones in the heaps of hot ashes, and
piling up fuel and cow-dung for their
next batch of funeral pyres, lie three
still figures covered with white and red
cloths, from which protrude only the
fixed, cold feet, washed b. the outer
edge of the tide. These are the dead
of to-day, happy-thrice hsppy-to
have passed to the gate of Swarga,
close to Gunga's good waves. Their
friends sit near, we'll satisfied even
amid their natural regrets; and, very
soon, three blue curls of smoke waited
among the temple-roofs from three
cracking fires upon the platform of the
Chat will tell where those votaries have
finished their pilgrimage for once and
all. Wonderful is the fervor of belief
among these gentle, metaphysical Hin
doc people. An orthodox British
churchwoman will feel that she has
done her duty if, when she visits ia
nous city, she goes twice to its ancient
cathedral on sunday. What would she
think of these Indian wives and moth
ers bathing with such rejoicing conf
dence of salvation in crowd under
the Dasaswamedha Chat? Some of
them are "purdah women" who would
never lay aside their wells and step
outside the curtain except under pro-
lection of the sacred simplicity of pill
grimage. Some are old aud feeble,
weary with the long journeys of life,
emaciated by maladies, saddened from
losses and trouble; ard the morning
air blows sharp, the river wave runs
chilly. Yet there they stood, breast
deep in the cold river, with dripping
Gotten garments clinging to their thin
or aged limbs, visibly shuddering un-
der the shock of the water, and their
lips blue and quiveriug, while they
eagerly mutter their invocations None
of them hesitates; into the Ggnga they
plunge on arrival, i'll or well, robust or