_I believe like you_, one God, no idols."
India is thus in a state of transition, her caste and religion
both passing away. The work before this generation and probably
the next is to pull down and destroy. It will remain for those who
come after to begin the more difficult labor of building up.
We met at Benares strings of water-carriers, carrying brass
vessels on each end of a pole borne over the shoulder. These come
here for hundreds of miles on foot, and take back to their
customers in the country the sacred water of the blessed river. It
is a regular business, and furnishes employment for thousands of
men. Upon no account must this water be carried by railway and
deprived of its healing powers by being handled by unbelievers. It
must be carried by Hindoos of the proper caste on foot, or it has
no virtue.
Science invades everything nowadays, and the officials have
recently had the water of one of the sacred wells analyzed by a
chemist--audacious dog of an infidel--and here he comes with his
CO2 and all the virtue of this water of life is gone. It is found
unfit for human use, and the well is ordered to be closed. The
chemist, in the eyes of the ignorant natives, has sacrificed
spiritual for physical health; preferred the welfare of their
bodies to that of their souls, as is the custom with these wicked
scientists.
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