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in safety, except the one in which this young gentleman sailed, which at length was deemed a missing ship, and her safety despaired of. A mother could not so easily give up hope; her usual evening walk was on a sandy beach, forming a bay on the western side of the island, in full view of the ocean. Maternal solicitude frequently cast a longing eye to that quarter where the ships from Europe generally appeared. The shore of that bay was also the place where most of the Hindoos erected the funeral pile and burnt their dead. This ceremony is attended by Brahmins, and Mr. Hodges's Brahmin, then at Bombay, was occasionally among them. Observing the mother's anxiety, he asked her the cause; the lady being a native of India, and well knowing his character, inquired in his own language why a man so extraordinarily gifted should be ignorant of her tender solicitude. The Brahmin was affected, and said, “ I do know the reason of your sorrow. Your son lives; the ship will soon arrive in safety, but you will never more behold him !” She immediately mentioned this conversation to her friends. A signal was made not long after for a ship from Europe: on the pilot reaching her his private signal indicated the missing ship; boats were sent off to bring the passengers on shore. The expected son was not forgotten ; his mother's friends went on board, and were informed that he had remained at the Brazils, where the ship having been long detained for repair, the Jesuits converted this promising youth to the Church of Rome. Instead therefore of conducting him to his expecting parent, they only delivered her letters replete with affectionate expostulations, and entreaties that she would follow his ex
ample and enter into the true Church. A mother's disappointment is easier to conceive than describe. Her son continued at Rio de Janeiro, and occasionally wrote to her, until the suppression of the Jesuits in the pontificate of Clement XIV., on which occasion, with many other members of that society, he was sent from South America to the prisons of Portugal, and no more heard of.
The unfortunate mother returned to England some years afterwards, with her husband, and only daughter, who was married, and died soon after her arrival in her native country.
This was a stroke her fond mother was little able to sustain ; a bereavement which seemed to admit of no consolation. The downy wings of time, the balmy comforts of religion, aided by every effort of an affectionate husband, were of no avail in extricating her from a state of apathy and despair.
Not long after this event, an intimate friend of the family, having remitted a considerable sum of money from India by bills on Portugal, went to Lisbon to recover them. Walking near a prison in that city, he was supplicated for charity by a voice from a subterraneous grate; and being addressed in English made it the more impressive. Not content with affording transient relief, he entered into conversation with the prisoner, and found he was the long-lost son of his disconsolate mother. The intelligence was immediately conveyed to England, and tenderly communicated to his sorrowing parent, with the addition that her husband had already remitted money to Lisbon, and exerted such means for his deliverance that there could be no doubt of his speedy restoration to her maternal arms. This extraordinary news did shed a
momentary gleam of joy on her countenance, but it was soon succeeded by renewed pangs of sorrow, and a continued exclamation of “0, the Brahmin ! the Brahmin !” Resignation and indifference seemed to have taken possession of her mind, and every prospect set before her of future joy and comfort only produced a monotonous repetition of “The Brahmin ! the Brahmin!"
The friend at Lisbon, when all was happily accomplished, lost no time in informing her son that his mother lived, was married to a gentleman of fortune and respectability, who was waiting to welcome him to their parental roof;—that their interest and liberality had procured his liberty, which he was the happy instrument of effecting, and was then come to conduct him from a scene of misery to life, and light, and joy!. Although the communication was made in the most considerate manner, he scarcely be. lieved the reality of his emancipation from those dreary walls where he had for years been excluded from the light of the sun and fresh air ; for “ hope deferred had made his heart sick.” The sudden transition from hopeless despair in the dungeon's gloom to the sight of the sun, the fanning of the breeze, and the sympathy of friendship, were too much for his emaciated frame. He faintly uttered the effusions of a grateful heart, and expired!
Thus was the Brahmin's prediction to his mother, uttered full thirty years before, completely fulfilled !
The last anecdote which I shall relate respecting this extraordinary man is very short. Some months previous to iny first leaving India, a gentleman and his wife arrived from England at Bombay. He having
been appointed to a lucrative situation at Surat, proceeded thither by an early opportunity, leaving his wife in a friend's family until he should have procured a house, and made suitable provision for her reception at Surat. They were both young, and had an only child. In a few weeks she followed him to Surat. The evening before she embarked, sitting in a mixed circle of gentlemen and ladies, anticipating her approaching happiness, the same Brahmin came into the veranda with the gentleman of the house, who was high in station at Bombay. He introduced him to the company, and in a sort of jest asked him to tell the destiny of the happy fair one lately arrived from Europe. To the surprise of the whole company, and particularly so to the object of inquiry, he gave her a penetrating and compassionate look ; and, after a solemn pause, said to the gentlemen in the Hindoo language, “ Her cup of felicity is full, but evanescent! a bitter potion awaits her; for which she inust prepare!” Her husband had written that he should come in a barge to Surat bar to accompany ber on shore. He did not appear ; but a friend of mine went on board to announce to her his dangerous illness: he was then in the last paroxysm of a fever, and expired in her arms! I came home a passenger in the same with the widow and another lady, who endeavoured to alleviate her sorrow by every tender assiduity. The name of a Brahmin was never mentioned at table, nor any thing relating to Hindoo astrology. The anniversary of her husband's death happened during the voyage, and was indeed a day of woe !
District of Chandode-Jaggernaut-Funeral Ceremony of the
Hindoos-Four Grand Divisions of Hindoo Castes—Temple and Village Worship-Sealing of the Worshippers-Brahminical Belief in the Unity of God-Beautiful Letter from a Hindoo Rajah to Aurungzebe-Doctrine of the Metempsychosis-Character of a real Yogee-Pure Brahminism— Truth and Beauty of Divine Revelation-Effects of Modern Philosophy among the Europeans in India—Cause and Effects of Irreligion,
Adjoining the Zinore purgunna, and equally under my jurisdiction, was a little district called Chandode, to which the Brahmins attributed peculiar sanctity; the town, situated on the lofty banks of the Nerbudda, was intersected by ravines and watercourses, formed by heavy rains and encroachments of the river: as these inundations subsided, they left deep hollow ways, and steep precipices overhung by trees entangled with underwood and jungle-grass, affording an impenetrable cover for tigers, hyenas, serpents, and noxious reptiles.
Immense groves of the ficus religiosa and indica, overshadowing numerous Hindoo temples, and spacious lakes, cast a more than common gloom on this venerated spot.
No place in the western provinces of Hindostan is reputed so holy as Chandode ; none at least exceed it: its temples and seminaries almost vie with the fanes of