Chapter CDXCV: Section XIII: Rávan Doomed (2)

“1. The Matsya, or fish. In this avatár Vishṇu descended in the form of a fish to save the pious king Satyavrata, who with the seven Rishis and their wives had taken refuge in the ark to escape the deluge which then destroyed the earth. 2, The Kúrma, or Tortoise. In this he descended in the form of a tortoise, for the purpose of restoring to man some of the comforts lost during the flood. To this end he stationed himself at the bottom of the ocean, and allowed the point of the great mountain Mandara to be placed upon his back, which served as a hard axis, whereon the gods and demons, with the serpent Vásuki twisted round the mountain for a rope, churned the waters for the recovery of the amrita or nectar, and fourteen other sacred things. 3. The Varáha, or Boar. In this he descended in the form of a boar to rescue the earth from the power of a demon called ‘golden-eyed,’ Hiraṇyáksha. This demon had seized on the earth and carried it with him into the depths of the ocean. Vishṇu dived into the abyss, and after a contest of a thousand years slew the monster. 4. The Narasinha, or Man-lion. In this monstrous shape of a creature half-man, half-lion, Vishṇu delivered the earth from the tyranny of an insolent demon called Hiraṇyakaśipu. 5. Vámana, or Dwarf. This avatár happened in the second age of the Hindús or Tretáyug, the four preceding are said to have occurred in the first or Satyayug; the object of this avatár was to trick Bali out of the dominion of the three worlds. Assuming the form of a wretched dwarf he appeared before the king and asked, as a boon, as much land as he could pace in three steps. This was granted; and Vishṇu immediately expanding himself till he filled the world, deprived Bali at two steps of heaven and earth, but in consideration of some merit, left Pátála still in his dominion. 6. Paraśuráma. 7. Rámchandra. 8. Krishṇa, or according to some Balaráma. 9. Buddha. In this avatár Vishṇu descended in the form of a sage for the purpose of making some reform in the religion of the Brahmins, and especially to reclaim them from their proneness to animal sacrifice. Many of the Hindús will not allow this to have been an incarnation of their favourite god. 10. Kalki, or White Horse. This is yet to come. Vishṇu mounted on a white horse, with a drawn scimitar, blazing like a comet, will, according to prophecy, end this present age, viz. the fourth or Kaliyug, by destroying the world, and then renovating creation by an age of purity.”

WILLIAM’S DICTIONARY. _Vishṇu._

Siva.

“A celebrated Hindú God, the Destroyer of creation, and therefore the most formidable of the Hindú Triad. He also personifies reproduction, since the Hindú philosophy excludes the idea of total annihilation without subsequent regeneration. Hence he is sometimes confounded with Brahmá, the creator or first person of the Triad. He is the particular God of the Tántrikas, or followers of the books called Tantras. His worshippers are termed Śaivas, and although not so numerous as the Vaishṇavas, exalt their god to the highest place in the heavens, and combine in him many of the attributes which properly belong to the other deities. According to them Śiva is Time, Justice, Fire, Water, the Sun, the Destroyer and Creator. As presiding over generation, his type is the Linga, or Phallus, the origin probably of the Phallic emblem of Egypt and Greece. As the God of generation and justice, which latter character he shares with the god Yama, he is represented riding a white bull. His own colour, as well as that of the bull, is generally white, referring probably to the unsullied purity of Justice. His throat is dark-blue; his hair of a light reddish colour, and thickly matted together, and gathered above his head like the hair of an ascetic. He is sometimes seen with two hands, sometimes with four, eight, or ten, and with five faces. He has three eyes, one being in the centre of his forehead, pointing up and down. These are said to denote his view of the three divisions of time, past, present, and future. He holds a trident in his hand to denote, as some say, his relationship to water, or according to others, to show that the three great attributes of Creator, Destroyer, and Regenerator are combined in him. His loins are enveloped in a tiger’s skin. In his character of Time, he not only presides over its extinction, but also its astronomical regulation. A crescent or half-moon on his forehead indicates the measure of time by the phases of the moon; a serpent forms one of his necklaces to denote the measure of time by years, and a second necklace of human skulls marks the lapse and revolution of ages, and the extinction and succession of the generations of mankind. He is often represented as entirely covered with serpents, which are the emblems of immortality. They are bound in his hair, round his neck, wrists, waist, arms and legs; they serve as rings for his fingers, and earrings for his ears, and are his constant companions. Śiva has more than a thousand names which are detailed at length in the sixty-ninth chapter of the Śiva Puráṇa.”—WILLIAMS’S DICTIONARY, _Śiva_.

Apsarases.

“Originally these deities seem to have been personifications of the vapours which are attracted by the sun, and form into mist or clouds: their character may be thus interpreted in the few hymns of the Rigveda where mention is made of them. At a subsequent period when the Gandharva of the Rigveda who personifies there especially the Fire of the Sun, expanded into the Fire of Lightning, the rays of the moon and other attributes of the elementary life of heaven as well as into pious acts referring to it, the Apsarasas become divinities which represent phenomena or objects both of a physical and ethical kind closely associated with that life; thus in the _Yajurveda_ Sunbeams are called the Apsarasas associated with the Gandharva who is the Sun; Plants are termed the Apsarasas connected with the Gandharva Fire: Constellations are the Apsarasas of the Gandharva Moon: Waters the Apsarasas of the Gandharva Wind, etc. etc.… In the last Mythological epoch when the Gandharvas have saved from their elementary nature merely so much as to be musicians in the paradise of Indra, the Apsarasas appear among other subordinate deities which share in the merry life of Indra’s heaven, as the wives of the Gandharvas, but more especially as wives of a licentious sort, and they are promised therefore, too, as a reward to heroes fallen in battle when they are received in the paradise of Indra; and while, in the Rigveda, they assist Soma to pour down his floods, they descend in the epic literature on earth merely to shake the virtue of penitent Sages and to deprive them of the power they would otherwise have acquired through unbroken austerities.”—GOLDSTÜCKER’S _Sanskrit Dictionary_.

Vishnu’s Incarnation As Ráma.

“Here is described one of the _avatárs_, descents or manifestations of Vishṇu in a visible form. The word _avatár_ signifies literally _descent_. The _avatár_ which is here spoken of, that in which, according to Indian traditions, Vishṇu descended and appeared upon earth in the corporeal form of Ráma, the hero of the Rámáyana, is the seventh in the series of Indian _avatárs_. Much has been said before now of these avatárs, and through deficient knowledge of the ideas and doctrines of India, they have been compared to the sublime dogma of the Christian Incarnation. This is one of the grossest errors that ignorance of the ideas and beliefs of a people has produced. Between the _avatárs_ of India and the Christian Incarnation there is such an immensity of difference that it is impossible to find any reasonable analogy that can approximate them. The idea of the _avatárs_ is intimately united with that of the Trimúrti; the bond of connection between these two ideas is an essential notion common to both, the notion of Vishṇu. What is the Trimúrti? I have already said that it is composed of three Gods, Brahmá (masculine), Vishṇu the God of _avatárs_, and Śiva. These three Gods, who when reduced to their primitive and most simple expression are but three cosmogonical personifications, three powers or forces of nature, these Gods, I say, are here found, according to Indian doctrines, entirely external to the true God of India, or Brahma in the neuter gender. Brahma is alone, unchangeable in the midst of creation: all emanates from him, he comprehends all, but he remains extraneous to all: he is Being and the negation of beings. Brahma is never worshipped; the indeterminate Being is never invoked; he is inaccessible to the prayers as the actions of man; humanity, as well as nature, is extraneous to him. External to Brahma rises the Trimúrti, that is to say, Brahmá (masculine) the power which creates, Vishṇu the power which preserves, and Śiva the power which destroys: theogony here commences at the same time with cosmogony. The three divinities of the Trimúrti govern the phenomena of the universe and influence all nature. The real God of India is by himself without power; real efficacious power is attributed only to three divinities who exist externally to him. Brahmá, Vishṇu, and Śiva, possessed of qualities in part contradictory and attributes that are mutually exclusive, have no other accord or harmony than that which results from the power of things itself, and which is found external to their own thoughts. Such is the Indian Trimúrti. What an immense difference between this Triad and the wonderful Trinity of Christianity! Here there is only one God, who created all, provides for all, governs all. He exists in three Persons equal to one another, and intimately united in one only infinite and eternal substance. The Father represents the eternal thought and the power which created, the Son infinite love, the Holy Spirit universal sanctification. This one and triune God completes by omnipotent power the great work of creation which, when it has come forth from His hands, proceeds in obedience to the laws which He has given it, governed with certain order by His infinite providence.

“The immense difference between the Trimúrti of India and the Christian Trinity is found again between the _avatárs_ of Vishṇu and the Incarnation of Christ. The _avatár_ was effected altogether externally to the Being who is in India regarded as the true God. The manifestation of one essentially cosmogonical divinity wrought for the most part only material and cosmogonical prodigies. At one time it takes the form of the gigantic tortoise which sustains Mount Mandar from sinking in the ocean; at another of the fish which raises the lost Veda from the bottom of the sea, and saves mankind from the waters. When these _avatárs_ are not cosmogonical they consist in some protection accorded to men or Gods, a protection which is neither universal nor permanent. The very manner in which the _avatár_ is effected corresponds to its material nature, for instance the mysterious vase and the magic liquor by means of which the _avatár_ here spoken of takes place. What are the forms which Vishṇu takes in his descents? They are the simple forms of life; he becomes a tortoise, a boar, a fish, but he is not obliged to take the form of intelligence and liberty, that is to say, the form of man. In the _avatár_ of Vishṇu is discovered the inpress of pantheistic ideas which have always more or less prevailed in India. Does the _avatár_ produce a permanent and definitive result in the world? By no means. It is renewed at every catastrophe either of nature or man, and its effects are only transitory.… To sum up then, the Indian _avatár_ is effected externally to the true God of India, to Brahma; it has only a cosmogonical or historical mission which is neither lasting nor decisive; it is accomplished by means of strange prodigies and magic transformations; it may assume promiscuously all the forms of life; it may be repeated indefinitely. Now let the whole of this Indian idea taken from primitive tradition be compared with the Incarnation of Christ and it will be seen that there is between the two an irreconcilable difference. According to the doctrines of Christianity the Everlasting Word, Infinite Love, the Son of God, and equal to Him, assumed a human body, and being born as a man accomplished by his divine act the great miracle of the spiritual redemption of man. His coming had for its sole object to bring erring and lost humanity back to Him; this work being accomplished, and the divine union of men with God being re-established, redemption is complete and remains eternal.

“The superficial study of India produced in the last century many erroneous ideas, many imaginary and false parallels between Christianity and the Brahmanical religion. A profounder knowledge of Indian civilization and religion, and philological studies enlarged and guided by more certain principles have dissipated one by one all those errors. The attributes of the Christian God, which by one of those intellectual errors, which Vico attributes to the vanity of the learned, had been transferred to Vishṇu, have by a better inspired philosophy been reclaimed for Christianity, and the result of the two religions, one immovable and powerless, the other diffusing itself with all its inherent force and energy, has shown further that there is a difference, a real opposition, between the two principles.”—GORRESIO.

Kusa and Lava.

As the story of the banishment of Sítá and the subsequent birth in Válmíki’s hermitage of Kuśa and Lava the rhapsodists of the Rámáyan, is intimately connected with the account in the introductory cantos of Válmíki’s composition of the poem, I shall, I trust, be pardoned for extracting it from my rough translation of Kálidása’s Raghuvaṇśa, parts only of which have been offered to the public.

“Then, day by day, the husband’s hope grew high, Gazing with love on Sítá’s melting eye: With anxious care he saw her pallid cheek, And fondly bade her all her wishes speak. “Once more I fain would see,” the lady cried, “The sacred groves that rise on Gangá’s side, Where holy grass is ever fresh and green, And cattle feeding on the rice are seen: There would I rest awhile, where once I strayed Linked in sweet friendship to each hermit maid.” And Ráma smiled upon his wife, and sware, With many a tender oath, to grant her prayer. It chanced, one evening, from a lofty seat He viewed Ayodhyá stretched before his feet: He looked with pride upon the royal road Lined with gay shops their glittering stores that showed, He looked on Sarjú’s silver waves, that bore The light barks flying with the sail and oar; He saw the gardens near the town that lay, Filled with glad citizens and boys at play. Then swelled the monarch’s bosom with delight, And his heart triumphed at the happy sight. He turned to Bhadra, standing by his side,— Upon whose secret news the king relied.— And bade him say what people said and thought Of all the exploits that his arm had wrought. The spy was silent, but, when questioned still, Thus spake, obedient to his master’s will: “For all thy deeds in peace and battle done The people praise thee, King, except for one: This only act of all thy life they blame,— Thy welcome home of her, thy ravished dame.” Like iron yielding to the iron’s blow, Sank Ráma, smitten by those words of woe. His breast, where love and fear for empire vied, Swayed, like a rapid swing, from side to side. Shall he this rumour scorn, which blots his life, Or banish her, his dear and spotless wife? But rigid Duty left no choice between His perilled honour and his darling queen. Called to his side, his brothers wept to trace The marks of anguish in his altered face. No longer bright and glorious as of old, He thus addressed them when the tale was told: “Alas! my brothers, that my life should blot The fame of those the Sun himself begot: As from the labouring cloud the driven rain Leaves on the mirror’s polished face a stain. E’en as an elephant who loathes the stake And the strong chain he has no power to break, I cannot brook this cry on every side, That spreads like oil upon the moving tide. I leave the daughter of Videha’s King, And the fair blossom soon from her to spring, As erst, obedient to my sire’s command, I left the empire of the sea-girt land. Good is my queen, and spotless; but the blame Is hard to bear, the mockery and the shame. Men blame the pure Moon for the darkened ray, When the black shadow takes the light away. And, O my brothers, if ye wish to see Ráma live long from this reproach set free, Let not your pity labour to control The firm sad purpose of his changeless soul.”

Thus Ráma spake. The sorrowing brothers heard His stern resolve, without an answering word; For none among them dared his voice to raise, That will to question:—and they could not praise. “Beloved brother,” thus the monarch cried To his dear Lakshmaṇ, whom he called aside.— Lakshmaṇ, who knew no will save his alone Whose hero deeds through all the world were known:— “My queen has told me that she longs to rove Beneath the shade of Saint Válmíki’s grove: Now mount thy car, away my lady bear; Tell all, and leave her in the forest there.”

The car was brought, the gentle lady smiled, As the glad news her trusting heart beguiled. She mounted up: Sumantra held the reins; And forth the coursers bounded o’er the plains. She saw green fields in all their beauty dressed, And thanked her husband in her loving breast. Alas! deluded queen! she little knew How changed was he whom she believed so true; How one she worshipped like the Heavenly Tree Could, in a moment’s time, so deadly be. Her right eye throbbed,—ill-omened sign, to tell The endless loss of him she loved so well, And to the lady’s saddening heart revealed The woe that Lakshmaṇ, in his love, concealed. Pale grew the bloom of her sweet face,—as fade The lotus blossoms,—by that sign dismayed. “Oh, may this omen,”—was her silent prayer,— “No grief to Ráma or his brothers bear!”

When Lakshmaṇ, faithful to his brother, stood Prepared to leave her in the distant wood, The holy Gangá, flowing by the way, Raised all her hands of waves to bid him stay. At length with sobs and burning tears that rolled Down his sad face, the king’s command he told; As when a monstrous cloud, in evil hour, Rains from its labouring womb a stony shower. She heard, she swooned, she fell upon the earth, Fell on that bosom whence she sprang to birth. As, when the tempest in its fury flies, Low in the dust the prostrate creeper lies, So, struck with terror sank she on the ground, And all her gems, like flowers, lay scattered round. But Earth, her mother, closed her stony breast, And, filled with doubt, denied her daughter rest. She would not think the Chief of Raghu’s race Would thus his own dear guiltless wife disgrace. Stunned and unconscious, long the lady lay, And felt no grief, her senses all astray. But gentle Lakshmaṇ, with a brother’s care, Brought back her sense, and with her sense, despair. But not her wrongs, her shame, her grief, could wring One angry word against her lord the King: Upon herself alone the blame she laid, For tears and sighs that would not yet be stayed. To soothe her anguish Lakshmaṇ gently strove; He showed the path to Saint Válmíki’s grove; And craved her pardon for the share of ill He wrought, obedient to his brother’s will. “O, long and happy, dearest brother, live! I have to praise,” she cried, “and not forgive: To do his will should be thy noblest praise; As Vishṇu ever Indra’s will obeys. Return, dear brother: on each royal dame Bestow a blessing in poor Sítá’s name, And bid them, in their love, kind pity take Upon her offspring, for the father’s sake. And speak my message in the monarch’s ear, The last last words of mine that he shall hear: “Say, was it worthy of thy noble race Thy guiltless queen thus lightly to disgrace? For idle tales to spurn thy faithful bride, Whose constant truth the searching fire had tried? Or may I hope thy soul refused consent, And but thy voice decreed my banishment? Hope that no care could turn, no love could stay The lightning stroke that falls on me to-day? That sins committed in the life that’s fled Have brought this evil on my guilty head? Think not I value now my widowed life, Worthless to her who once was Ráma’s wife. I only live because I hope to see The dear dear babe that will resemble thee. And then my task of penance shall be done, With eyes uplifted to the scorching sun; So shall the life that is to come restore Mine own dear husband, to be lost no more.” And Lakshmaṇ swore her every word to tell, Then turned to go, and bade the queen farewell. Alone with all her woes, her piteous cries Rose like a butchered lamb’s that struggling dies. The reverend sage who from his dwelling came For sacred grass and wood to feed the flame, Heard her loud shrieks that rent the echoing wood, And, quickly following, by the mourner stood. Before the sage the lady bent her low, Dried her poor eyes, and strove to calm her woe. With blessings on her hopes the blameless man In silver tones his soothing speech began: “First of all faithful wives, O Queen, art thou; And can I fail to mourn thy sorrows now? Rest in this holy grove, nor harbour fear Where dwell in safety e’en the timid deer. Here shall thine offspring safely see the light, And be partaker of each holy rite. Here, near the hermits’ dwellings, shall thou lave Thy limbs in Tonse’s sin-destroying wave, And on her isles, by prayer and worship, gain Sweet peace of mind, and rest from care and pain. Each hermit maiden with her sweet soft voice, Shall soothe thy woe, and bid thy heart rejoice: With fruit and early flowers thy lap shall fill, And offer grain that springs for us at will. And here, with labour light, thy task shall be To water carefully each tender tree, And learn how sweet a nursing mother’s joy Ere on thy bosom rest thy darling boy.…”

That very night the banished Sítá bare Two royal children, most divinely fair.…

The saint Válmíki, with a friend’s delight, Graced Sítá’s offspring with each holy rite. Kuśa and Lava—such the names they bore— Learnt, e’en in childhood, all the Vedas’ lore; And then the bard, their minstrel souls to train, Taught them to sing his own immortal strain. And Ráma’s deeds her boys so sweetly sang, That Sítá’s breast forgot her bitterest pang.…

Then Sítá’s children, by the saint’s command, Sang the Rámáyan, wandering through the land. How could the glorious poem fail to gain Each heart, each ear that listened to the strain! So sweet each minstrel’s voice who sang the praise Of Ráma deathless in Válmíki’s lays. Ráma himself amid the wondering throng Marked their fair forms, and loved the noble song, While, still and weeping, round the nobles stood, As, on a windless morn, a dewy wood. On the two minstrels all the people gazed, Praised their fair looks and marvelled as they praised; For every eye amid the throng could trace Ráma’s own image in each youthful face. Then spoke the king himself and bade them say Who was their teacher, whose the wondrous lay. Soon as Válmíki, mighty saint, he saw, He bowed his head in reverential awe. “These are thy children” cried the saint, “recall Thine own dear Sítá, pure and true through all.” “O holy father,” thus the king replied, “The faithful lady by the fire was tried; But the foul demon’s too successful arts Raised light suspicions in my people’s hearts. Grant that their breasts may doubt her faith no more, And thus my Sítá and her sons restore.”

_Raghuvaṇśa Cantos XIV, XV._

Parasuráma, Page 87.

“He cleared the earth thrice seven times of the Kshatriya caste, and filled with their blood the five large lakes of Samanta, from which he offered libations to the race of Bhrigu. Offering a solemn sacrifice to the King of the Gods Paraśuráma presented the earth to the ministering priests. Having given the earth to Kaśyapa, the hero of immeasurable prowess retired to the Mahendra mountain, where he still resides; and in this manner was there enmity between him and the race of the Kshatriyas, and thus was the whole earth conquered by Paraśuráma.” The destruction of the Kshatriyas by Paraśuráma had been provoked by the cruelty of the Kshatriyas. _Chips from a German Workshop_, _Vol._ II. p. 334.

The scene in which he appears is probably interpolated for the sake of making him declare Ráma to be Vishṇu. “Herr von Schlegel has often remarked to me,” says Lassen, “that without injuring the connexion of the story all the chapters [of the Rámáyan] might be omitted in which Ráma is regarded as an incarnation of Vishṇu. In fact, where the incarnation of Vishṇu as the four sons of Daśaratha is described, the great sacrifice is already ended, and all the priests remunerated at the termination, when the new sacrifice begins at which the Gods appear, then withdraw, and then first propose the incarnation to Vishṇu. If it had been an original circumstance of the story, the Gods would certainly have deliberated on the matter earlier, and the celebration of the sacrifice would have continued without interruption.” LASSEN, _Indische Alterthumskunde, Vol. I._ p. 489.

Yáma, Page 68.

Son of Vivasvat=Jima son of Vivanghvat, the Jamshíd of the later Persians.

Fate, Page 68.

“The idea of fate was different in India from that which prevailed in Greece. In Greece fate was a mysterious, inexorable power which governed men and human events, and from which it was impossible to escape. In India Fate was rather an inevitable consequence of actions done in births antecedent to one’s present state of existence, and was therefore connected with the doctrine of metempsychosis. A misfortune was for the most part a punishment, an expiation of ancient faults not yet entirely cancelled.” GORRESIO.

Visvámitra, Page 76.

“Though of royal extraction, Viśvámitra conquered for himself and his family the privileges of a Brahman. He became a Brahman, and thus broke through all the rules of caste. The Brahmans cannot deny the fact, because it forms one of the principal subjects of their legendary poems. But they have spared no pains to represent the exertions of Viśvámitra, in his struggle for Brahmanhood, as so superhuman that no one would easily be tempted to follow his example. No mention is made of these monstrous penances in the Veda, where the struggle between Viśvámitra, the leader of the Kuśikas or Bharatas, and the Brahman Vaśishtha, the leader of the white-robed Tritsus, is represented as the struggle of two rivals for the place of Purohita or chief priest and minister at the court of King Sudás, the son of Pijavana.” _Chips from a German Workshop_, _Vol. II._ p. 336.

Household Gods, Page 102.

“No house is supposed to be without its tutelary divinity, but the notion attached to this character is now very far from precise. The deity who is the object of hereditary and family worship, the _Kuladevatá_, is always one of the leading personages of the Hindu mythology, as Śiva, Vishṇu or Durgá, but the _Grihadevatá_ rarely bears any distinct appellation. In Bengal, the domestic god is sometimes the _Sálagrám_ stone, sometimes the _tulasi_ plant, sometimes a basket with a little rice in it, and sometimes a water-jar—to either of which a brief adoration is daily addressed, most usually by the females of the family. Occasionally small images of Lakshmi or Chaṇdi fulfil the office, or should a snake appear, he is venerated as the guardian of the dwelling. In general, however, in former times, the household deities were regarded as the unseen spirits of ill, the ghosts and goblins who hovered about every spot, and claimed some particular sites as their own. Offerings were made to them in the open air, by scattering a little rice with a short formula at the close of all ceremonies to keep them in good humour.

“The household gods correspond better with the genii locorum than with the lares or penates of autiquity.”

H. H. WILSON.

Page 107.

_Śaivya, a king whom earth obeyed,_ _Once to a hawk a promise made._

The following is a free version of this very ancient story which occurs more than once in the _Mahábhárat_:

THE SUPPLIANT DOVE.

Chased by a hawk there came a dove
With worn and weary wing,
And took her stand upon the hand
Of Káśí’s mighty king.
The monarch smoothed her ruffled plumes
And laid her on his breast,
And cried, “No fear shall vex thee here,
Rest, pretty egg-born, rest!
Fair Káśí’s realm is rich and wide,
With golden harvests gay,
But all that’s mine will I resign
Ere I my guest betray.”
But panting for his half won spoil
The hawk was close behind.
And with wild cry and eager eye
Came swooping down the wind:
“This bird,” he cried, “my destined prize,
’Tis not for thee to shield:
’Tis mine by right and toilsome flight
O’er hill and dale and field.
Hunger and thirst oppress me sore,
And I am faint with toil:
Thou shouldst not stay a bird of prey
Who claims his rightful spoil.
They say thou art a glorious king,
And justice is thy care:
Then justly reign in thy domain,
Nor rob the birds of air.”
Then cried the king: “A cow or deer
For thee shall straightway bleed,
Or let a ram or tender lamb
Be slain, for thee to feed.
Mine oath forbids me to betray
My little twice-born guest:
See how she clings with trembling wings
To her protector’s breast.”
“No flesh of lambs,” the hawk replied,
“No blood of deer for me;
The falcon loves to feed on doves
And such is Heaven’s decree.
But if affection for the dove
Thy pitying heart has stirred,
Let thine own flesh my maw refresh,
Weighed down against the bird.”
He carved the flesh from off his side,
And threw it in the scale,
While women’s cries smote on the skies
With loud lament and wail.
He hacked the flesh from side and arm,
From chest and back and thigh,
But still above the little dove
The monarch’s scale stood high.
He heaped the scale with piles of flesh,
With sinews, blood and skin,
And when alone was left him bone
He threw himself therein.
Then thundered voices through the air;
The sky grew black as night;
And fever took the earth that shook
To see that wondrous sight.
The blessed Gods, from every sphere,
By Indra led, came nigh:
While drum and flute and shell and lute
Made music in the sky.
They rained immortal chaplets down,
Which hands celestial twine,
And softly shed upon his head
Pure Amrit, drink divine.
Then God and Seraph, Bard and Nymph
Their heavenly voices raised,
And a glad throng with dance and song
The glorious monarch praised.
They set him on a golden car
That blazed with many a gem;
Then swiftly through the air they flew,
And bore him home with them.
Thus Káśí’s lord, by noble deed,
Won heaven and deathless fame:
And when the weak protection seek
From thee, do thou the same.

_Scenes from the Rámáyan, &c._

Page 108.

The ceremonies that attended the consecration of a king (_Abhikshepa lit. Sprinkling over_) are fully described in Goldstücker’s Dictionary, from which the following extract is made: “The type of the inauguration ceremony as practised at the Epic period may probably be recognized in the history of the inauguration of _Ráma_, as told in the _Rámáyana_, and in that of the inauguration of _Yudhishṭhira_, as told in the _Mahábháratha_. Neither ceremony is described in these poems with the full detail which is given of the vaidik rite in the _Aitareya-Bráhmaṇam_; but the allusion that Ráma was inaugurated by _Vaśishṭha_ and the other Bráhmanas in the same manner as Indra by the Vasus … and the observation which is made in some passages that a certain rite of the inauguration was performed ‘according to the sacred rule’ … admit of the conclusion that the ceremony was supposed to have taken place in conformity with the vaidik injunction.… As the inauguration of _Ráma_ was intended and the necessary preparations for it were made when his father Daśaratha was still alive, but as the ceremony itself, through the intrigues of his step-mother _Kaikeyí_, did not take place then, but fourteen years later, after the death of _Daśaratha_, an account of the preparatory ceremonies is given in the _Ayodhyákáṇḍa_ (Book II) as well as in the _Yuddha-Káṇḍa_ (Book VI.) of the Rámáyaṇa, but an account of the complete ceremony in the latter book alone. According to the _Ayodhyákáṇḍa_, on the day preceding the intended inauguration _Ráma_ and his wife _Sítá_ held a fast, and in the night they performed this preliminary rite: _Ráma_ having made his ablutions, approached the idol of _Náráyaṇa_, took a cup of clarified butter, as the religious law prescribes, made a libation of it into the kindled fire, and drank the remainder while wishing what was agreeable to his heart. Then, with his mind fixed on the divinity he lay, silent and composed, together with _Sítá_, on a bed of Kuśa-grass, which was spread before the altar of Vishṇu, until the last watch of the night, when he awoke and ordered the palace to be prepared for the solemnity. At day-break reminded of the time by the voices of the bards, he performed the usual morning devotion and praised the divinity. In the meantime the town Ayodhyá had assumed a festive appearance and the inauguration implements had been arranged … golden water-jars, an ornamented throne-seat, a chariot covered with a splendid tiger-skin, water taken from the confluence of the Ganges and Jumna, as well as from other sacred rivers, tanks, wells, lakes, and from all oceans, honey, curd, clarified butter, fried grain, Kuśa-grass, flowers, milk; besides, eight beautiful damsels, and a splendid furious elephant, golden and silver jars, filled with water, covered with _Udumbara_ branches and various lotus flowers, besides a white jewelled _chourie_, a white splendid parasol, a white bull, a white horse, all manner of musical instruments and bards.… In the preceding chapter … there are mentioned _two_ white _chouries_ instead of one, and all kinds of seeds, perfumes and jewels, a scimitar, a bow, a litter, a golden vase, and a blazing fire, and amongst the living implements of the pageant, instead of the bards, gaudy courtesans, and besides the eight damsels, professors of divinity, Bráhmaṇas, cows and pure kinds of wild beasts and birds, the chiefs of town and country-people and the citizens with their train.”

Page 109.

_Then with the royal chaplains they_ _Took each his place in long array._

_The twice born chiefs, with zealous heed,_ _Made ready what the rite would need._

“Now about the office of a Purohita (house priest). The gods do not eat the food offered by a king, who has no house-priest (Purohita). Thence the king even when (not) intending to bring a sacrifice, should appoint a Bráhman to the office of house-priest.” HAUG’S _Autareya Bráhmanam. Vol. II. p. 528_.

Page 110.

_There by the gate the Sáras screamed._

The Sáras or Indian Crane is a magnificent bird easily domesticated and speedily constituting himself the watchman of his master’s house and garden. Unfortunately he soon becomes a troublesome and even dangerous dependent, attacking strangers with his long bill and powerful wings, and warring especially upon “small infantry” with unrelenting ferocity.

Page 120.

_My mothers or my sire the king._

All the wives of the king his father are regarded and spoken of by Ráma as his mothers.

Page 125.

_Such blessings as the Gods o’erjoyed_ _Poured forth when Vritra was destroyed._

“Mythology regards Vritra as a demon or Asur, the implacable enemy of Indra, but this is not the primitive idea contained in the name of Vritra. In the hymns of the Veda Vritra appears to be the thick dark cloud which Indra the God of the firmament attacks and disperses with his thunderbolt.” GORRESIO.

“In that class of Rig-veda hymns which there is reason to look upon as the oldest portion of Vedic poetry, the character of Indra is that of a mighty ruler of the firmament, and his principal feat is that of conquering the demon _Vritra_, a symbolical personification of the cloud which obstructs the clearness of the sky, and withholds the fructifying rain from the earth. In his battles with Vritra he is therefore described as ‘opening the receptacles of the waters,’ as ‘cleaving the cloud’ with his ‘far-whirling thunderbolt,’ as ‘casting the waters down to earth,’ and ‘restoring the sun to the sky.’ He is in consequence ‘the upholder of heaven, earth, and firmament,’ and the god ‘who has engendered the sun and the dawn.’ ” CHAMBERS’S CYCLOPÆDIA, _Indra_.

“Throughout these hymns two images stand out before us with overpowering distinctness. On one side is the bright god of the heaven, as beneficent as he is irresistible: on the other the demon of night and of darkness, as false and treachorous as he is malignant.… The latter (as his name Vritra, from var, to veil, indicates) is pre-eminently the thief who hides away the rain-clouds.… But the myth is yet in too early a state to allow of the definite designations which are brought before us in the conflicts of Zeus with Typhôn and his monstrous progeny, of Apollôn with the Pythôn, of Bellerophôn with Chimaira of Oidipous with the Sphinx, of Hercules with Cacus, of Sigurd with the dragon Fafnir; and thus not only is Vritra known by many names, but he is opposed sometimes by Indra, sometimes by Agni the fire-god, sometimes by Trita, Brihaspati, or other deities; or rather these are all names of one and the same god.” COX’S _Mythology of the Aryan Nations. Vol. II. p. 326_.

Page 125.

_And that prized herb whose sovereign power_ _Preserves from dark misfortune’s hour._ “And yet more medicinal is it than that Moly, That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave; He called it Hæmony, and gave it me, And bade me keep it as of sovereign use ’Gainst all enchantment, mildew, blast, or damp, Or ghastly furies’ apparition.” _Comus._

The _Moly_ of Homer, which Dierbach considers to have been the _Mandrake_, is probably a corruption of the Sanskrit _Múla_ a root.

Page 136.

_True is the ancient saw: the Neem_ _Can ne’er distil a honeyed stream._

The Neem tree, especially in the Rains, emits a strong unpleasant smell like that of onions. Its leaves however make an excellent cooling poultice, and the Extract of Neem is an admirable remedy for cutaneous disorders.

Page 152.

_Who of Nisháda lineage came._

The following account of the origin of the Nishádas is taken from Wilson’s _Vishṇu Puráṇa_, Book I. Chap. 15. “Afterwards the Munis beheld a great dust arise, and they said to the people who were nigh: ‘What is this?’ And the people answered and said: ‘Now that the kingdom is without a king, the dishonest men have begun to seize the property of their neighbours. The great dust that you behold, excellent Munis, is raised by troops of clustering robbers, hastening to fall upon their prey.’ The sages, hearing this, consulted, and together rubbed the thigh of the king (Vena), who had left no offspring, to produce a son. From the thigh, thus rubbed, came forth a being of the complexion of a charred stake, with flattened features like a negro, and of dwarfish stature. ‘What am I to do,’ cried he eagerly to the Munis. ‘Sit down (nishída),’ said they. And thence his name was Nisháda. His descendants, the inhabitants of the Vindhyá mountain, great Muni, are still called Nishádas and are characterized by the exterior tokens of depravity.” Professor Wilson adds, in his note on the passage: “The Matsya says that there were born outcast or barbarous races, Mlechchhas, as black as collyrium. The Bhágavata describes an individual of dwarfish stature, with short arms and legs, of a complexion as black as a crow, with projecting chin, broad flat nose, red eyes, and tawny hair, whose descendants were mountaineers and foresters. The Padma (Bhúmi Khaṇḍa) has a similar deccription; adding to the dwarfish stature and black complexion, a wide mouth, large ears, and a protuberant belly. It also particularizes his posterity as Nishádas, Kirátas, Bhillas, and other barbarians and Mlechchhas, living in woods and on mountains. These passages intend, and do not much exaggerate, the uncouth appearance of the Gonds, Koles, Bhils, and other uncivilized tribes, scattered along the forests and mountains of Central India from Behar to Khandesh, and who are, not improbably, the predecessors of the present occupants of the cultivated portions of the country. They are always very black, ill-shapen, and dwarfish, and have countenances of a very African character.”

Manu gives a different origin of the Nishádas as the offspring of a Bráhman father and a Súdra mother. See Muir’s _Sanskrit Texts_, Vol. I. p. 481.

Page 157.

_Beneath a fig-tree’s mighty shade,_ _With countless pendent shoots displayed._ “So counselled he, and both together went Into the thickest wood; there soon they chose The fig-tree: not that kind for fruit renowned, But such as at this day, to Indians known, In Malabar or Deccan spreads her arms Branching so broad and long, that in the ground The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow About the mother tree, a pillared shade High overarched, and echoing walks between.”

_Paradise Lost_, Book IX.

Page 161.

_Now, Lakshmaṇ, as our cot is made,_ _Must sacrifice be duly paid._

The rites performed in India on the completion of a house are represented in modern Europe by the familiar “house-warming.”

Page 169.

_I longed with all my lawless will_ _Some elephant by night to kill._

One of the regal or military caste was forbidden to kill an elephant except in battle.

_Thy hand has made no Bráhman bleed._

“The punishment which the Code of Manu awards to the slayer of a Brahman was to be branded in the forehead with the mark of a headless corpse, and entirely banished from society; this being apparently commutable for a fine. The poem is therefore in accordance with the Code regarding the peculiar guilt of killing Brahmans; but in allowing a hermit who was not a _Divija_ (twice-born) to go to heaven, the poem is far in advance of the Code. The youth in the poem is allowed to read the Veda, and to accumulate merit by his own as well as his father’s pious acts; whereas the exclusive Code reserves all such privileges to _Divijas_ invested with the sacred cord.” Mrs. SPEIR’S _Life in Ancient India_, p. 107.

Page 174. The Praise Of Kings

“Compare this magnificent eulogium of kings and kingly government with what Samuel says of the king and his authority: And Samuel told all the words of the LORD unto the people that asked of him a king.

And he said, This will be the manner of the king that shall reign over you: He will take your sons, and appoint them for himself, for his chariots, and to be his horsemen: and some shall run before his chariots.

And he will appoint him captains over thousands, and captains over fifties, and will set them to work his ground, and to reap his harvest, and to make his instrument of war, and instruments of his chariots.

And he will take your daughters to be confectionaries, and to be cooks, and to be bakers.

And he will take your fields, and your vineyards and your oliveyards, even the best of them, and give them to his servants.

And he will take the tenth of your seed, and of your vineyards, and give to his officers, and to his servants.

And he will take your men-servants, and your maid-servants, and your goodliest young men, and your asses, and put them to his work.

He will take the tenth of your sheep: and ye shall be his servants.

And ye shall cry out in that day because of your king which ye shall have chosen you. I. _Samuel_, VIII.

In India kingly government was ancient and consecrated by tradition: whence to change it seemed disorderly and revolutionary: in Judæa theocracy was ancient and consecrated by tradition, and therefore the innovation which would substitute a king was represented as full of dangers.” GORRESIO.

Page 176. Sálmalí.

According to the Bengal recension Śálmalí appears to have been another name of the Vipáśá. Śálmalí may be an epithet signifying rich in Bombax heptaphyllon. The commentator makes another river out of the word.

Page 178. Bharat’s Return.

“Two routes from Ayodhyá to Rájagriha or Girivraja are described. That taken by the envoys appears to have been the shorter one, and we are not told why Bharat returned by a different road. The capital of the Kekayas lay to the west of the Vipáśá. Between it and the Śatadru stretched the country of the Báhíkas. Upon the remaining portion of the road the two recensions differ. According to that of Bengal there follow towards the east the river Indamatí, then the town Ajakála belonging to the Bodhi, then Bhulingá, then the river Śaradaṇḍá. According to the other instead of the first river comes the Ikshumatí … instead of the first town Abhikála, instead of the second Kulingá, then the second river. According to the direction of the route both the above-mentioned rivers must be tributaries of the Śatadrú.… The road then crossed the Yamuná (Jumna), led beyond that river through the country of the Panchálas, and reached the Ganges at Hástinapura, where the ferry was. Thence it led over the Rámagangá and its eastern tributaries, then over the Gomati, and then in a southern direction along the Málini, beyond which it reached Ayodhyá. In Bharat’s journey the following rivers are passed from west to east: _Kutikoshṭiká_, _Uttániká_, _Kuṭiká_, _Kapívatí_, _Gomatí_ according to Schlegel, and _Hiraṇyavatí_, _Uttáriká_, _Kuṭilá_, _Kapívatí_, _Gomatí_ according to Gorresio. As these rivers are to be looked for on the east of the Ganges, the first must be the modern _Koh_, a small affluent of the Rámagangá, over which the highway cannot have gone as it bends too far to the north. The Uttániká or Uttáriká must be the Rámagangá, the Kuṭiká or Kuṭilá its eastern tributary, Kośilá, the Kapívatí the next tributary which on the maps has different names, _Gurra_ or above Kailas, lower down _Bhaigu_. The Gomatí (Goomtee) retains its old name. The Máliní, mentioned only in the envoys’ journey, must have been the western tributary of the Sarayú now called Chuká.” LASSEN’S _Indische Alterthumskunde_, Vol. II. P. 524.

Page 183.

_What worlds await thee, Queen, for this?_

“Indian belief divided the universe into several worlds (_lokáh_). The three principal worlds were heaven, earth, and hell. But according to another division there were seven: Bhúrloka or the earth, Bhuvarloka or the space between the earth and the sun, the seat of the Munis, Siddhas, &c., Svarloka or the heaven of Indra between the sun and the polar star, and the seventh Brahmaloka or the world of Brahma. Spirits which reached the last were exempt from being born again.” GORRESIO.

Page 203.

_When from a million herbs a blaze_ _Of their own luminous glory plays._

This mention of lambent flames emitted by herbs at night may be compared with Lucan’s description of a similar phenomenon in the Druidical forest near Marseilles, (_Pharsalia_, III. 420.).

_Non ardentis_ fulgere incendia silvae.

Seneca, speaking of Argolis, (Thyestes, Act IV), says:—

Tota solet

Micare flamma silva, et excelsae trabes _Ardent sine igni_.

Thus also the bush at Horeb (Exod. II.) flamed, but was not consumed.

The Indian explanation of the phenomenon is, that the sun before he sets deposits his rays for the night with the deciduous plants. See _Journal of R. As. S. Bengal_, Vol. II. p. 339.

Page 219.

_We rank the Buddhist with the thief._

Schlegel says in his Preface: “Lubrico vestigio insistit V. Cl. _Heerenius, prof. Gottingensis_, in libro suo de commerciis veterum populorum (OPP. Vol. HIST. XII, pag. 129,) dum putat, ex mentione sectatorum Buddhae secundo libro Rameidos iniecta de tempore, quo totum carmen sit conditum, quicquam legitime concludi posse.… Sunt versus spurii, reiecti a Bengalis in sola commentatorum recensione leguntur. Buddhas quidem mille fere annis ante Christum natun vixit: sed post multa demumsecula, odiointernecivo inter Brachmanos et Buddhae sectatores orto, his denique ex India pulsis, fingi potuit iniquissima criminatio, eos animi immortalitatem poenasque et praemia in vita futura negare. Praeterea metrum, quo concinnati sunt hi versus, de quo metro mox disseram, recentiorem aetatem arguit.… Poenitet me nunc mei consilii, quod non statim ab initio, … eiecerim cuncta disticha diversis a sloco vulgari metris composita. Metra sunt duo: pariter ambo constant quatuor hemistichiis inter se aequalibus, alterum undenarum syllabarum, alterum duodenarum, hunc in modum:

[-)] [-] [)] [-] | [-] [)] [)] [-] | [)] [-] [-)] [)] [-] [)] [-] | [-] [)] [)] [-] | [)] [-] [)] [-)]

Cuius generis versus in primo et secundo Rameidos libro nusquam nisi ad finem capitum apposita inveniuntur, et huic loco unice sunt accommodata, quasi peroratio, lyricis numeris assurgens, quo magis canorae cadant clausulae: sicut musici in concentibus extremis omnium vocum instrumentorumque ictu fortiore aures percellere amant. Igitur disticha illa non ante divisionem per capita illatam addi potuerunt: hanc autem grammaticis deberi argumento est ipse recensionum dissensus, manifesto inde ortus, quod singuli editores in ea constituenda suo quisque iudicio usi sunt; praeterquam quod non credibile est, poetam artis suae peritum narrationem continuam in membra tam minuta dissecuisse. Porro discolor est dictio: magniloquentia affectatur, sed nimis turgida illa atque effusa, nec sententiarum pondere satis suffulta. Denique nihil fere novi affertur: ampli ficantur prius dicta, rarius aliquid ex capite sequente anticipatur. Si quis appendices hosce legendo transiliat, sentiet slocum ultimum cum primo capitis proximi apte coagmentatum, nec sine vi quadam inde avulsum. Eiusmodi versus exhibet utraque recensio, sed modo haec modo illa plures paucioresve numero, et lectio interdum magnopere variat.”

“The narrative of Ráma’s exile in the jungle is one of the most obscure portions of the Rámáyana, inasmuch as it is difficult to discover any trace of the original tradition, or any illustration of actual life and manners, beyond the artificial life of self-mortification and selfdenial said to have been led by the Brahman sages of olden time. At the same time, however, the story throws some light upon the significance of the poem, and upon the character in which the Brahmanical author desired to represent Ráma; and consequently it deserves more serious consideration than the nature of the subject-matter would otherwise seem to imply.