We went into the temple of Parvati. Our pundit led the way, accompanied by a singularly interesting Mahratta Brahman priest, but I noticed that the sectarian marks on his forehead and those on the pundit's were very different. The former wore the marks of Siva, two straight lines crossed, and the pundit those of Maha Dèo, two concentric circles with a straight line. Before our eyes had become accustomed to "the dim religious light" of this temple, the power of which the Hindoos so well understand, I looked and saw right in front of me, and immediately at the foot of the altar, the prostrate figure of the pundit, and the Brahman priest beside him, their arms and hands stretched out, their faces hidden on the pavement, their limbs stiff and rigid, and their long white robes clinging to their persons. Within full sight and hearing of the beauty of Christianity, with all the wonders and marvels of scientific discoveries taught hard by in the public native school and in the Sanskrit college, here were these men, neither of whom lacked intellectual training, bowing down to idols of wood and stone. Surely, the more earnest and spiritual of these lowly worshippers see something of the truth, beauty, and goodness of God, denied to less ardent natures, and only discernible with closed eyes and in moments of deep, silent emotion. There is a massive silver statue of Siva seated on the altar, holding on his knees his wife Parvati and their son Ganesa. These smaller idols, it is said, are of pure gold; a princely fortune in precious gems adorns their headdresses, their necks, and gleams out of their eyes. There were dusky arches and dingy, time-stained columns and all kinds of figures on the walls, and over them all a smoky atmosphere and an odor of incense mingled with that of burnt-offerings. We went out almost faster than we had gone in. Pundit and his guru, or spiritual guide, were still going through some genuflexions. A Brahman is a Brahman indeed, but are Christians always the followers of Jesus? We sat down on the steps of the temple, and by and by the pundit came out with his spiritual guide, looking calm and serene. We visited the English school for the natives in the Budhwar[65] portion of the city, also the Sanskrit college, and saw there hundreds of handsome, eager-looking students, and we were assured that it produced men of very great learning, who could hold their own in Sanskrit, Mahratta, Hindostanee, and English even, with some of the greatest scholars in England, France, or Germany.