[6] The Greek Charon and this Hindoo toll-taker would appear to be identical; but the Greeks have been indebted to Hindoo superstition for many other notions, the parallels of which are too strong to be mistaken. [7] See Sonnerat, vol. ii., on Hindoo funerals. CHAPTER V. The unhappy widow now prepared herself to perform the dreadful sacrifice which was to free her from the cares of this world and exalt her to the Swerga bowers, or Hindoo paradise. She was stationed before the door of the house of mourning in a kind of rostrum, which was profusely and extravagantly ornamented; tomtoms, trumpets, and cymbals continuing their deafening clangour as before. She placed a small piece of areka-nut between her almost motionless lips and softly aspirated the name of Somnat’s idol. She next adorned her head, neck, and arms with all her jewels, arraying herself in sumptuous apparel, as if about to appear at the marriage ceremony, instead of a funeral solemnity. The array of her person being concluded, she proceeded toward the place of sacrifice, accompanied by numerous friends, to the sound of those instruments which had already preceded the procession of her husband’s body. Several Brahmins, including the hierophant, walked by her side encouraging her with assurances that she was going to enjoy eternal felicity in regions where there is no misery known, and where she would become the sita[8] of some god who would espouse her as a reward for her constancy and virtue. They further promised her that her name should be celebrated throughout the earth, and sung in all their future sacrifices. This proves a strong stimulus to some women, who go to the pile voluntarily, and with an enthusiasm truly astonishing; for there is no legal obligation to perform the suttee. A cup was now handed to the unhappy victim of the most barbarous superstition that has ever stained the black annals of fanaticism. She drank of it without the slightest emotion. In a few minutes the effects of this draught were visible. Her eyes glistened; she erected her frame to the full height of her stature, and looked around her with a flushed cheek and stern severity of purpose which sufficiently showed that the fever of enthusiasm was beginning to circulate rapidly through her veins. As the aged Brahmin approached her, she looked at him with a glance of defiant scorn, and pointing to the pile on which the corpse of her husband had been laid, said, with a raised brow and flashing eye-- “Dost thou think I would escape that fiery passage to everlasting repose? Thou wouldst withhold me from my glory. My soul shall ascend on wings of flame to the abodes of those who never die. I see the beckoning spirit in yonder cloud waiting to bear mine to its eternal home. Thou wouldst tear me from my bliss. Away, away!”