p. 14 | Married to a Stone by Edith E. Bruce

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Tacoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Jun 15, 1911

Married to a Stone

By Edith E. Bruce

EDITH E. BRUCE

“If thou forbear to deliver them that are drawn unto death, and those that are ready to be slain; if thou sayest, Behold, we knew it not; doth not he that pondereth the heart consider it? and he that keepeth thy soul, doth not he know it? and shall not he render to every man according to his works?” Prov. 24:11, 12.

I tremble when I think of the awful responsibility resting upon me in the face of these words from the Word of God. I feel heavily the responsibility of trying to make known to others the little I have learned of the conditions of the people in this country. There are so many of the helpless little ones who are being drawn into Satan’s net—drawn into sin and shame and death. I shrink from writing all this. I do not like dark, gloomy pictures, much preferring to give only the bright side. Thank God, there is a ray of light piercing the dark cloud of superstition that has settled down upon the women of India,—a cloud so thick and black that it seems almost impregnable. But the blessed gospel of Jesus can dispel the thickest cloud, and break the strongest chain that can be forged by satanic power. Some chains have been broken, and some—a few—of India’s women are witnessing to the whole world the wonderful saving power of our Lord.

But the cloud lingers; and it is still black and threatening. Still there is work to be done. There are still greater sacrifices to be made. From among the throngs there are some precious souls to be saved for Christ’s kingdom. Some one will bring these little ones and lay them at Jesus’ feet, and hear the sweet words spoken, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant.” Shall it be you? Shall it be I? God help us to be true to the command, “Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.”

A few weeks ago we told something of child marriage in India and its evil results, but we did not tell all. There is so much woven into this fabric of superstition, so much that can not be told. Dreadful as may seem the custom that gives a little girl to an old man of sixty, yet there is one other marriage ceremony in India which is infinitely worse, and which is carried on under the guise of religion. This is the diabolical ceremony whereby a sweet, innocent little girl is united forever to a Hindu god, and becomes a prey to the lusts of vile priests. India is rightly called the “land of temples;” for all over the land, from north to south, from east to west, one finds the Hindu temple. It may be a structure no more than 8 x 10 feet, where there is just room enough for the image, and the officiating priest, or it may be a stone daubed with red paint, set up under a tree; nevertheless it is sacred to the devout Hindu villager, who worships, offers his gifts of flowers and fruits, makes his vows, and then circles around it according to the ardor of his zeal.

In addition to these local temples set up throughout India, there are many large temples at the so-called sacred places, which are visited every year by thousands of pilgrims, who suppose that they will receive special blessings therefor. Many come from long distances, hoping to be cured of some dreadful disease (many die on their way), some come in the hope of gaining a greater degree of salvation and eternal happiness. The most famous temples are found at Benares, Calcutta, Puri, etc.

Dr. Murdock thus describes the temple at Puri, called the Jagannatha, or Juggernaut, the lord of the world: “The temple is composed of four distinct buildings, opening one into another. The first is about eighty feet square and one hundred twenty feet in height. This is the cook-room, where the food is cooked before the god, and sold to the pilgrims as holy. This building opens into another, called the dancing-hall, where the musicians and dancing-girls amuse the gods. This opens, in turn, into the next building, called the audience-chamber, from which the people look into the last building, the shrine where sits the idol himself.”

A few days ago I visited the famous temple at Kali Ghat, Calcutta. There I saw many sights that made me heartsick. Although it was early in the morning, hundreds of people thronged the place, pushing and jostling one another, and all clamoring in loud tones; priests called for pice, and bartered their goods to the pilgrims. There were many goats slain to be offered before the goddess Kali, one of the vilest of the Hindu objects of worship. All these sights were sickening to behold; but the thing that touched me most, that made me more determined than ever to do something for this people, was a group of little girls who, I suspected, were temple-girls. Drawing near and making some inquiries, I found this to be true. I knew what that meant, and turned away with an aching heart. I knew that they had been married to the god; that their doom was sealed; that the chains that had been forged by Satan in his darkest hours were bound about them, and they were bound to the god of stone forever. They were just like other little Hindu girls, with their pretty brown eyes and olive skin. The evil stamp of sin was not yet upon their faces, but it will come; it is inevitable! O, could we only deliver these little ones from this awful life! I felt like taking them in my arms, and bearing them away beyond this deadly influence. I wonder, mothers, how you would feel to leave your little daughter in the clutches of a merciless, licentious priest. Do you cover your eyes, and shrink in horror from the very thought? I am sure you do; and yet these little ones have been bought with a price, the blood of our Saviour, which was shed for them. He has asked us to gather them in. We need strong, godly women to do this work. Is there one who will say, “Lord, send me”?

I do not mean to infer that all the little girls of India are victims to the gods. Although carried on to some extent all over India, under different names, the custom is most prevalent in south India. But wherever it is allowed, it means ruin, not only to the girls, but to many homes as well.

I quote the following from the “Wrongs of Indian Womanhood:” “The gods of the Hindu heaven are not satisfied with having one or more wives of their own; they also have a number of public women, called asparas, who dance and sing and add to the comfort of the gods. According to Hindu belief, men who have performed meritorious deeds go to heaven, and their chief happiness consists in their enjoyment of the society of the asparas. The devadasies, or temple-girls, are the counterpart of the asparas on earth.” Whether the practise came into use by this doctrine

of the Hindu faith or in some other way, it is blighting in its effect upon the innocent, and again the blow falls heaviest upon the women. All over India, thousands of these little girls, under one pretext or another, are offered in marriage to these gods. A few sweets, a few jewels, the promise of a big tamasha (show), and the little ones are ensnared in the net of Satan by the wicked priest. Their lives are easily ruined. Nothing is sin if sanctioned or ordered by the priest, and so their lives are lost—lost to pure womanhood, lost to the kingdom of heaven. Not only do they become the prey of the priests, but many pilgrims visit these famous places, and not merely to worship. Through the enticement of these temple-women, who are no longer innocent girls, many unsuspecting youth, with young wives at home, visit these places for the first time with an honest purpose of worshiping, but return to their homes ruined. These are some facts, but all can not be written; they are imprintable. In view of these things we are led to exclaim:—

“My God! can such things be? Hast thou not said that whatsoever is done Unto thy weakest and thy humblest one, Is even done to thee? “Hoarse, horrible, and strong, Rises to heaven that agonizing cry,— Filling the arches of the hollow sky,— ‘How long, O Lord! how long?’”

Calcutta, India.