Think'st thou uncalled I boldly come? Ah, see! - KRISHNA. How could a frame so soft such dangers brave? MILKMAID. The lightning gleamed so bright. KRISHNA. O'er broken roads, through mire and tangling thorn - . MILKMAID. Steps light and firm will weariest way o'ercome. KRISHNA. Yet dark's the night, and thou wert all alone. MILKMAID. No, my soul's lord! for Love was with me still, No. 45 is the great temple of Juggernaut. The principal edifice rises to the elevation of two hundred feet. In the two adjacent buildings, morning and evening, the dancing girls display their professional skill, for the amusement of the idols enthroned in the large edifice. There, also, three times a day, large quantities of the choicest food are presented to these wooden images. The people are taught that the appetite of these gods is perfectly satisfied by smelling and seeing the food at a distance. This is a remarkably fortunate circumstance, since the Brahmins always take what the idols leave. The wall which surrounds the temple is about twenty feet high, and forms an enclosure six hundred and fifty feet square. On each side of the square is a gateway. The gateway in the engraving is through the base of a highly-ornamented tower. The small buildings, in front of the wall, are the shops of merchants, where clothing and ornaments are exposed for sale. The column on the right is a very beautiful specimen of architecture. The shaft, which is thirty feet high, is composed of a single stone. The figure on the top is an image of Huneman, a deified monkey. The only foreigner who ever saw the inside of this temple was an English officer, who, about thirty years since, succeeded in gaining admission, by painting and dressing himself like a native. When the Brahmins discovered that their holy place had been thus defiled, they became so enraged that all the English residing at the station were obliged to flee for their lives. Suspecting their pursuers to be more desirous of gratifying their avarice than their revenge, they strewed silver money by the way, and, while the natives stopped to pick it up, they gained time, and succeeded in reaching a place of safety. Twelve festivals are annually celebrated here in honor of Juggernaut. The most important of these are the bathing and the car festivals. These I witnessed, and there were present more than one hundred and fifty thousand pilgrims. Nearly half were females. There is not only great suffering among the multitude of pilgrims who, from distant places, attend these festivals, but many of them die in consequence of excessive fatigue, exposure to the annual rains, and the want of suitable and sufficient food. The plains, in many places, are literally whitened with the bones of the pilgrims, while dogs and vultures are continually devouring the bodies of the dead. Rev. Mr. Lacy informed me that, in 1825, he counted ninety dead bodies in one place, and that his colleague, at the same time, counted one hundred and forty more in another place. Great numbers perish on their way home. The pilgrim, on leaving Puri, has a long journey before him, and his means of support are often almost, if not entirely, exhausted. The rainy season has now commenced, and at every step his naked feet sink deep in the mud. At length, exhausted by hunger and fatigue, he sits down by the side of the road, unable to proceed any farther. His companions, regarding only their own safety, leave him to his fate. Dogs, jackals, and vultures, gather around him, watching his dying struggles; and in a few hours his flesh has disappeared, and his bones le bleaching on the plain. Since the erection of this temple, in the twelfth century, such has been the fate of millions. "The old man, faint, just turns aside to rest, Bethinking he will rise again, refreshed:He rises not. Nature can bear no more,Exhausted. Ere the setting sun, his bones Are left to whiten, where the pilgrim died. Crowds press still onward, heedless of the plaints From the way-side. No pity from his fellow (Who soon will drop and groan, as he now groans) The dying man receives. Forsaken quite, He gasping liés, far from the holy stream. The vulture, with raw neck, and fulsome croak, He throws in random rage the fatal dart That needs must hit." No. 46 is a portrait of Juggernaut. I have taken his portrait as I saw him in the morning, while the Brahmins were making his toilet. He appeared to be well supplied with fine Cashmere shawls and valuable jewels, and the Brahmins were so arranging them as to display the beauties of his person to the best advantage. In the evening he is entirely disrobed, and his shawls and jewels, and also his hands and feet, which are made of gold, are carefully locked up in a strong box. This precaution is not through fear that the idol will convey himself away in the night, but to secure these treasures from thieves. Nor is the strong box |