circled with a garland of flowers, and covered with a piece of cloth. In some houses, however, an image of the goddess, seated on the lotus, is worshipped. There is nothing remarkable in this festival, further than that in every house one or two persons sit up the whole night; for it is believed that in some part of the night Lakshmi passes over every house, and blesses those who are awake. With the expectation of obtaining this blessing, multitudes in every village sit up the whole night, after drinking a little quantity of the water of the cocoa-nut. These watchers spend the night in playing at card, chess, &c., and though they find no perceptible accession to their wealth, they yet believe that negligence in watching would bring down misfortunes upon the house.

In the month of Kartik, consisting of part of October and part of November, the goddesses Shyámá and Jagaddhátri, and the god Kartikeya are worshipped; brothers are feasted by their sisters; and the Rása festival is celebrated.

The mythological story connected with the Shyamá festival is soon told. In the celebrated war of Durga or Káli-for the latter is only a modification of the former-with Sumbha and Nisumhba, Káli obtained a victory over Rakta Bija, the commander-in-chief of the enemy's forces. So transported was she at this triumph, that she danced. But the dancing of the sable goddess was quite a different affair from the dancing of ordinary balls. Her dancing shook the universe to its centre, and gods and men were frightened and ran to her husband, Shiva, to persuade his amiable wife to discontinue the terrific dance. Solicitous of the welfare of the gods, Shiva instantly hastened to the battle-field, and perceiving no way of alleviating his consort's joy, threw himself among the mountains of the dead. When the goddess saw that she was dancing upon the body of her husband, she put out her tongue and remained motionless. The images generally formed of Káli, represent the above-mentioned scene in the battle-field. The body of Shiva lies on the ground, on which the dreaded goddess takes her station. She stands trampling upon her husband; her tongue put out to a great length; her four arms extended, one grasping a sword, another the head of a giant, and the other two signalling to her innumerable hosts; her ears adorned with two corpses worn as ear-rings; her neck ornamented with a necklace of skulls; her waist encircled with a zone of the hands of fallen giants; her sable tresses falling down to her heels in ample profusion. Intoxicated with the blood of enemies, her terrible eyes flash red with rage, her eyebrows are dyed with crimson, and blood in rills flows adown her breast. The nature of her

worship is in keeping with her dreadful appearance. It takes place exactly in the middle of the night of new moon. The number of the animals sacrificed to her is immense. The yard before her temporary temple becomes often deluged with blood. The horror of the scene baffles description. The natural gloom of mid-night, unbroken by moon-shine; the piteous cries of animals led to the slaughter; the glancing of scymitars ready to fall upon the devoted victims; the streams of blood deluging the yard; the horrid din of deafening tom-toms; the terrific yells of the spectators, when the sacrificial knife lays low the extended animal; the frantic dances of the votaries, besmeared with the clotted blood of slaughtered buffaloes; the appalling exclamations of the officiating priests, bawling aloud, as they often do," Jaya Tárá! Jaya Tárá!" that is," Victory to Tárá! victory to Tárá!"-the drunken feats of the intoxicated worshippers, who this night all partake of spirits; and in fine, the sable goddess before whom these scenes are enacted; all this produces an accumulation of horrors too frightful to behold.

Two days after the Shyamá festival, it is customary with Hindu sisters to feast their brothers. On this occasion, the sisters mark the foreheads of their brothers with a certain paint prepared for the purpose. While in the act of putting on the paint, they implore a blessing in behalf of their brothers, to the following effect:"While I put the paint on your forehead, may the path 'towards the regions of Yama be planted with thorns." To Yama, the Indian Pluto-the king of the infernal regions, at this time, suitable acts of worship are rendered. The brothers are then feasted with all sorts of Bengali delicacies, and presented with clothes. In the beginning of this month, the unmarried girls of every house perform a ceremony which deserves notice, as it illustrates the manners of the people. In this ceremony, homage is rendered to the king of death, from whom the virgin worshippers solicit the agreeable gifts of husbands and sons, and exemption from punishment in the future world. What is the way in which so desirable gifts may be obtained? A small pit is dug near the front of the house; the four corners of this pit are sown with barley or wheat, and planted with branches of the plantain tree; misses putting on clean clothes, their heads sprinkled with Gangá water, repair to this pit, and present flowers to the Indian Pluto; a kouri every morning, for thirty days successively, is put into an earthen pot; on the last day these thirty kouries are presented to the person who dug the pit; and after going through all this, spinsters rejoice in the confidence of obtaining agreeable husbands and seraphic boys.

The goddess Jagaddhatri, riding on a lion, and grasping in her four hands a conch, a discus, a water-lily and a club, is only one of the almost countless forms of Durga. Her worship, like that of her anti-type, lasts one day. The repetition of incantations, the presentation of offerings and bloody sacrifices, the recitation of sacred stories, the entertainment of brahmans, together with scenic representations, songs, and dances, make up the several items of her adoration. She is last of all thrown into the river or a pool, the common reservoir of all Hindu gods and goddesses.

At the close of the month of Kartik is held the festival of the god Kartikeya, the Indian Mars, the son of Shiva and Durga. It is inconsistent with the design of this article to relate the circumstances connected with the birth of the sixfaced hero-god, how the immortals smarted under the iron rule of a supercilious giant; how the fair daughter of the king of Himalaya courted the mighty lord of Kailas; how the Indian Cupid was reduced to ashes by the wrath of Shiva; whom he wounded with one of his maddening arrows;—all which events have been described by the graphic pen of Káli Dás, in his great epic entitled the Kumar-Sambhaba. The knightly Kártikeya, riding on a peacock, and holding in his two hands a bow and arrows, is a very popular god. His worship, lasting only one short night, and being moreover attended with very little expense, thousands of images are annually adored in all parts of the country. An unmarried bachelor as the god is, and living, as he does, in concubinage with a mistress presented him by the king of heaven, he is a favourite of the Calcutta strumpets, who perform his annual rites with much pomp. There is nothing remarkable in the celebration of the Kartikeya festival, except that it is attended with much indecent and licentious festivity, more animated music than on other occasions, and uncommon pomp and circumstance of processions.

The Rása-Yátrá completes the list of festivals in the month of Kartik. We should have mentioned this festival before, inasmuch as it invariably precedes the Kartikeya festival. The Rása-Yátrá is an annual commemoration of the sports of Krishna with the milk-maids of Brindában. It is held for three successive nights. On a high recess, open on all sides, and built for the purpose, the god is brought out of its temple and seated.. Around it are placed many images of the god made of clay. On the open space, in front of the recess, is a canopy spread, from which are suspended paper-made images of various animals and reptiles. The god is worshipped with due solemnity, and the spectators amused with love-songs and

the execrable Yátrás. Towards the morning the god is carried to its temple, whence it is taken on the two following nights, and the same ceremonies and scenes are repeated. The silvery brightness of a full-moon night-the time when this celebration takes place; the unclouded serenity of a Bengal autumn; the merry-makings and festivities before the Rása-Manja; and the gay recollections of the festive sports and wanton gambols of the lover of Rádhá, which this festival calls up in the minds of the votaries, make the Rása a favourite festival of the inhabitants of Lower Bengal. Before the house in which this festival is celebrated with considerable ostentation, temporary sheds are erected and shops are opened, where sweetmeats, pán-leaves, and betel-nuts are sold in large quantities. Altogether, it is a scene of animation and enjoyment. But we need scarcely inform the reader, that these pleasures are not unmixed with outrages on the female character. We would be doing injustice to the Bengalis, however, did we maintain that these outbreaks are invariable attendants of the festival. But we do hold, notwithstanding, that the Rása serves greatly to demoralize the national character.

In the month of Agraháyana, consisting of part of November and part of December, only one festival worthy of notice is celebrated. It is the festival of the first fruits. Bengal being an agricultural country, and rice being the staple food of its inhabitants, the harvest is a season of joy and thanksgiving. But the Bengalis are also a religious people; the system of Hinduism exercises a vast influence on their manners and customs. Hence, before the general harvest, the first sheaves of paddy are offered to the gods. On this occasion the new rice of the year, together with milk, and the fruits and roots of the season, are presented to the immortals with due solemnity. The great progenitors of the human race, the far-famed Munis and Rishis, and the immediate forefathers of the celebrating family, are not deprived of their just shares. Even the beasts of the field, and the birds of the air, are attended to, for the new rice is placed in the fields, and on high places for their benefit. The Bengali, who is the humblest of all men, after presenting the first fruits of the season to the gods, the progenitors, the jackals and the crows, last of all partakes of it himself. This festival, which is appropriately termed the festival of the new rice, is concluded in some parts of the country with manly sports, pyrotechnic exhibitions, and entertainments given to brahmans and friends. This institution is not unlike the Jewish feast of the first fruits. Excepting for the corruptions of superstition which disgrace this feast, it is to us

a most delightful spectacle to see a whole nation, by presenting the first fruits of the year to the higher powers, give a marked expression to the religious sentiments of common humanity, and acknowledge their dependence on the bountiful giver of all things. It is pleasing to contemplate that the Hindu does not feel himself at liberty to use the staple food of the country without first offering it to Him who is the Creator and Preserver, not only of men, but also of the beasts and birds that perish; though regarding him, the Hindu, it must be confessed, entertains most dishonouring notions in other respects.

In the month of Poush, which comprises part of December and part of January, are held two festivals which merit description. The first which we shall mention, is a social institution, and seems to have no connection whatever with the performance of religious rites and ceremonies. It is named Poushali, from the circumstance of its celebration in the month of Poush On a certain day of the month, parties, with baskets in their hands, and loads on their backs, may be seen begging large quantities of rice and ordinary vegetables from every house in the village. The begging over, they repair to a garden on the out-skirts of the village, where they make preparations for a feast. The males of every household which has contributed to the general stock of food, are invited to partake of this sylvan banquet. In order to allay all apprehension arising from the distinctions. of caste, three or four brahmans are appointed cuisiniers. While the sacred cooks busily carry on their work of concoction, the guests divert themselves with running and swimming matches, and the robust exercises of Dándá-guli and HáduGadu. After all have refreshed themselves with a genial bath in the adjoining tank, they sit down on the grass, and partake on plaintain leaves of the elements of a rude repast. After crowning the feast, not indeed with flowing bumpers, but with betel-nuts and tobacco, they oftentimes lie down on the grassy couch of nature, indulge in agreeable talk, and return to their homes in the cool of the evening. Sometimes, in considerable villages, several parties are formed, which celebrate separate feasts in different groves. We need scarcely inform the reader, that this festival is unknown to the inhabitants of the metropolis, where the same facilities are not afforded. These sylvan repasts, besides the innocent hilarity connected with them, contribute in a great measure to produce feelings of friendliness and brotherly love between the several members of the Hindu community.

The only other festival of any consequence in the month of Poush is the feast of cakes. On this occasion, as at Christmas

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