ith me, they
began by adopting the methods which presumably are found to be
efficacious amongst Easterns. After profound salaams on all sides,
they refused to sit on the chairs which I offered them, but chose
humbler seats instead as a tribute to my own greatness. Flattery was
the next process, and after descanting on my accomplishments the chief
spokesman finished up by saying, "In fact I may say you are _god_."
When I pointed out the monstrosity of Hindu teaching which could
possibly allow the word to be applied to any human being, the Hindu
explained that anyone whom you hold in estimation may be called god.

Looking at the large framed photograph of the Indian editor, Mr Tilak,
who was deported out of the country for several years on account of
the seditious nature of his newspaper, the owner of the photograph
said to me, "He is a very good man; in fact he is our god."

A young student sat talking till dusk began to fall. The interval
between light and darkness is brief in tropical India. The student got
up and said he must hasten home. I asked him if he was afraid of the
dark. He said, "No, my god takes care of me." I asked him which of his
many gods would do this. He said, "Very likely Mahadeva." I asked him
where all the millions of gods lived. He said, "In heaven." I asked if
they all got on happily together. He said, "Of course." But then he
added, "There is only one real god; the others may, as it were, be
regarded as his relations"--which was a novel explanation of Hindu
mythology.

Though the ordinary Hindu conception of the characteristics of a god
does not include holiness, the sort of characteristic which may be
looked for can be illustrated by a question which an intelligent Hindu
lad asked me when I was showing him the church. "And what _battles_
did your Christ fight?" said the boy. His visit to the church was
apparently his first contact with Christianity, and he listened with
respectful attention as I told him of the Son of God coming as the
Prince of Peace.

Asking an intelligent Brahmin convert what is the Hindu conception of
prayer, he replied that with them its object is entirely a selfish
one. A Hindu prays for his own worldly prosperity--that his crops may
be good, that his business may succeed, that his children may marry
well and become rich. Asking the same informant whether Hindus pray
for others, he laughed and said, "No, never; except for the members of
their own family."

The numb