The new-comer has a succession of ceremonies to celebrate his arrival into this world of sorrows. On the twelfth day he is named; on a later day the first bracelets are put upon his arms and tiny anklets upon his ankles. When he is six months old he is given his first food. Five kinds of syrup are made, and the baby is given a taste of each one, and rice is put into his mouth. The father offers sacrifice to the household gods, the first loin-cloth is tied on the little man, the women sing, music is played, and feasting is indulged in by all. Each event is made the occasion of an elaborate feast, to which friends and relatives are invited and presents are given to the guests and to the priests. In fact, the priests seem to be omnipresent at all occasions in a Hindu family. A woman whom I was visiting was complaining of the many ceremonies that had taken place in her family during the past year, and she said that she was thoroughly tired of the worry and expense connected with them. I said: “But who benefits by these elaborate feasts and rituals that give so much trouble and cause such an outlay in presents and money?” She said wearily: “Who benefits? Why, the priests and the Brahmans. They always reap their harvest, whether we are born, marry, or die. If we are wicked, we must ask them to intercede for us; if we are good, we must ask them to thank the gods for us; and if we die, they must help us across the river of fire. We can do nothing of ourselves; they are our taskmasters with ever-open palm.” If the newborn son survives the first two years—and the mortality of babies is frightful, especially in the cities—he will quite likely have the opportunity of having the tonsure made for the first time, and this event is only rivalled by the entertainment given when, whether boy or girl, the ears are pierced by the goldsmith and it is announced that babyhood is passed. These endless feasts would be ruinous to the poor Hindu were it not for the fact that it is practically the only time when he entertains his friends. There is no promiscuous dinner-giving as among the Western people; friends are invited only in connection with some religious rite or to inaugurate a special event in the family. If a member of one of the higher castes, the mother who has watched her baby grow from babyhood into boyhood, looks forward to the most solemn and important event in his life, the ceremony called “the introduction to knowledge,” when he is invested with the sacred cord. This ceremony lasts from four to five days and is nearly as expensive as a wedding. The father must provide many pieces of cotton cloth and small gold and silver coins to be given as presents to the guests. He must have unlimited food and a great collection of pottery, because, as at a marriage feast, the dishes are broken after their first use.