THE SACRED CITY
Kabir and Chaitanya, have sought to unite all men in the worship of a Personal God. Listening millions in Bengal and Rajasthan, in Upper India and the Deccan, heard the name of Vishnu as the One Being to whom worship was due, and sang in their various tongues of the Incarnate god who took his birth at Mathura.
The bright sun of a cloudless Indian winter shone on the temples and turrets of Mathura on the morning when the boats from Bengal reached that sacred place. High up in lengthy panorama rose its edifices and curved spires to the sky, and crowds of people poured down the flights of stairs which lined the river Jumna to perform their morning bath and devotions. Brahmans stood in the water, breast deep, and held up their sacred threads, as they uttered the Hymn to the Rising Sun, which Brahmans in India have chanted for three thousand years:
"Tat Savitur Varenyam Bhargo Devasya Dhimahi Dhiyo yo nah Prachodayat."
Pious women lifted their veils, looked at the sky, and dived in the sacred river. Throngs of pilgrims from all parts of the Hindu world crowded the steps, while the sound of bells came from many temples, calling the faithful to the morning service.
Hemlata and her mother and Saibalini had looked with mute wonder and veneration on the spires and domes of the holy city in the dim light of the dawn. All the memories of their childhood, all that they had
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