of deities and semi-divine personages appear on the stage on every occasion; gods, men, and animals are ever changing places *. In fact, it is not merely in a confused, exaggerated, and overgrown mythology that the difference between the Indian and Grecian epics lies. It is in the injudicious and excessive use of it, and the forced obtrusion of the wild ideas and doctrines connected with a boundless religious faith. In the Rámáyaṇa and Mahá-bhárata, the spiritual and the supernatural are every where so dominant and overpowering, that any thing merely human seems altogether out of place. In the Iliad and the Odyssey the religious and supernatural element are perhaps scarcely less prevalent. The gods are continually interposing and superintending; but they do so as if they were themselves little removed from men, or at least without destroying the dramatic probability of the poem, or neutralizing its general air of plain matter-of-fact humanity. Again, granted that in Homer there is frequent mention of the future existence of the soul, and its condition of happiness or misery hereafter, and that the Homeric descriptions of disembodied spirits correspond in many points with the Hindú notions on the same subject †—yet even these doctrines do not stand out with such exaggerated reality in Homer as to make human concerns appear unreal; nor is there in his poems the slightest allusion to the soul's pre-existence in a former body, and its liability to * Animals figure to a certain extent in Grecian mythology, and arrogate human functions. Thus Homer makes Xanthus, the horse of Achilles, speak in a human voice and warn him of his fate (II. XIX. 404). But the line between animals and man is not so undefined as it is made in Hindú mythology by the doctrine of the transmigration of souls. + See the following passages, which bear on the existence of the vxý after death as an eïdwλov in Hades: Il. XXIII. 72, 104: Od. XI. 213, 476; XX. 355; XXIV. 14. It is curious that the Hindú notion of the restless state of the soul until the śráddha is performed (see note, p. 38) agrees with the ancient classical superstition that the ghosts of the dead wandered about as long as their bodies remained unburied, and were not suffered to mingle with those of the other dead. See Odyss. XI. 54: Il. XXIII. 72; and cf. Æn. VI. 325: Lucan I. II.: Eur. Hec. 30. pass into other bodies hereafter, which in Hindú poetry invests present actions with a mysterious meaning, and gives a deep distinctive colouring to Indian theology *. Above all, although priests are occasionally mentioned in the Iliad and the Odyssey, there is wholly wanting in the Homeric poems any recognition of a regular hierarchy, or the necessity for a mediatorial caste of sacrificers †. This, which may be called the sacerdotal element of the Indian epics, is more or less woven into their very tissue. Priestcraft has been at work in these productions almost as much as the * The essentially Asiatic doctrine of metempsychosis, which was little known among the Greeks till Pythagoras, may account for the mixing up of earth and heaven which prevails far more in Hindú than in classical mythology. Not only is a constant communication kept up between the two worlds, but such is their mutual interdependance that gods, men, and animals seem constantly to need each others' help. If distressed mortals are assisted out of their difficulties by divine interposition, the tables are often turned, and the poor gods, being themselves reduced to pitiful straits, are forced to implore the aid of mortal warriors in their conflicts with the demons. I need scarcely refer to the well-known examples of this in the Sakuntala and Vikramorvaśí, &c. Again, not only are men often aided by animals which usurp human functions, but even the gods are dependant upon them, and are poetically described as using them for vehicles-Brahmá is carried on a swan; Vishņu on an eagle, which is also half a man; Siva on a bull. The dependance of the Hindú gods on mortals for actual food is only an extension of the same idea. They are represented as living on the sacrifices offered to them by human beings, and at every sacrificial ceremony assemble in troops, eager for their shares. In fact, sacrifice with the Hindús is not merely expiatory or placatory; it is necessary for the actual support of the gods. If there were no sacrifices the gods would be liable to starvation. This alone will account for the very natural interest they take in the destruction of the demons, whose great aim and object was to obstruct these sources of their sustenance. Much in the same way the ghosts of dead men, according to the Hindús, are supposed to depend on the living, and to be actually fed with cakes and libations at the śráddha ceremonies. † A king, or any other individual, is allowed in Homer to perform a sacrifice without the help of priests. See II. II. 411; III. 392. Nevertheless we read occasionally of a Ovoσkóos, or 'sacrifice-viewer,' who prophesied from the appearance of the flame and the smoke at the sacrifice. See II. XXIV. 221: Odyss. XXI. 144; XXII. 319. imagination of the poet; and Bráhmanism, claiming a monopoly of all knowledge, human and divine, has appropriated this, as it has every other department of literature, and warped it to its own purposes. Its policy being to check the development of intellect, and keep the inferior castes in perpetual childhood, it encouraged an appetite for exaggeration more monstrous and absurd than would be tolerated in the most extravagant European fairy-tale. The more improbable the statement, the more childish delight it was calculated to awaken. This is more true of the Rámáyaṇa than of the Mahá-bhárata; but even in the later epic, full as it is of geographical, chronological, and historical details, few assertions can be trusted. Time is measured by millions of years, space by millions of miles; and if a battle has to be described, nothing is thought of it unless millions of soldiers, elephants, and horses are brought into the field *. Even in the delineation of heroic character, where Hindú poets exhibit much skill, they cannot avoid ministering to the craving for the marvellous which is inseparable from their nature. Homer's characters are like Shakespeare's. They are true heroes, if you will, but they are always men; never perfect, never free from human weaknesses, inconsistencies, and caprices of temper†. If their deeds are sometimes præterhuman, they do not commit improbabilities which are absolutely absurd. Moreover, he does not seem to delineate his characters; he allows them to delineate themselves. They stand out like photographs, in all the reality of nature. We are not so much told what they do or say ‡. They appear rather to speak and act for them * See extract from Aristotle's Poetics, p. 27, note †. † How far more natural is Achilles, with all his faults, than Ráma, with his almost painful correctness of conduct! Even the cruel vengeance that Achilles perpetrates on the dead Hector strikes us as more likely to be true than Ráma's magnanimous treatment of the fallen Rávana. Aristotle says that "among the many just claims of Homer to our praise, this is one-that he is the only poet who seems to have understood what part in his poem it was proper for him to take himself. The poet, in his own person, should speak as selves. In the Hindú epics the poet gives us too long and too tedious descriptions in his own person; and, as a rule, his characters are either too good or too bad. True, even the better heroes sometimes commit what a European would call crimes; but if they sin, they do not sin like men*. We see in them no portraits of ourselves. The pictures are too much one colour. There are few gradations of light and shadow, and little artistic blending of opposite hues. On the one side we have all gods or demigods; on the other, all demons or fiends. We miss real human beings with mixed characters. There is no mirror held up to inconsistent humanity. Duryodhana and his ninety-nine brothers would be real men if they were not so uniformly vicious. Lakshmaņa has perhaps the most natural character among the heroes of the Rámáyaṇa, and Bhíma among those of the Mahá-bhárata. In many respects the character of the latter is not unlike that of Achilles; but in drawing his most human heroes the Indian poet still displays a perpetual tendency to run into extravagance. It must be admitted, however, that in exhibiting pictures of domestic life and manners the Sanskrit epics are even more valuable than the Greek and Roman. In the delineation of women the Hindú poet throws aside all exaggerated colouring, and draws from nature. Kaikeyí, Kausalyá, Mandodarí (the favourite wife of Rávaņa †), and even little as possible. . . . . Homer, after a few preparatory lines, immediately introduces a man, a woman, or some other character; for all have their character." (Poetics III. 3.) * The Pandavas were certainly guilty of one inhuman act of treachery. In their anxiety to provide for their own escape from a horrible death, they enticed an outcaste woman and her five sons into their inflammable lac-house, and then burnt her alive. But the guilt of this transaction is neutralized to a Hindú by the woman being an outcaste; and besides, it is Bhíma who sets fire to the house. See the analysis at the end of this book. Ráma and Lakshmaṇa again were betrayed into a piece of cruelty in mutilating Súrpanakhá; but for this the fiery Lakshmana was responsible. + What can be more natural than Mandodari's lamentations over the dead body of Rávaṇa, and her allusions to his fatal passion for Sítá, in the 95th chapter of the 6th book of the Rámáyaṇa? (Gorresio's edition.) the hump-backed Manthará, are all drawn to the very life. Sítá, Draupadí, and Damayantí engage our affections and our interest far more than Helen, or even than Penelope. Indeed, Hindú wives are generally perfect patterns of conjugal fidelity; nor can it be doubted that in these delightful portraits of the Pativratá or devoted wife we have true representations of the purity and simplicity of Hindú domestic manners in early times *. We may also gather from the epic poems many interesting hints as to the social position occupied by Hindú women before the Muhammadan conquest. No one can read the Rámáyaṇa and Mahá-bhárata without coming to the conclusion that the habit of secluding women, and of treating them as inferiors, is, to a certain extent, natural to all eastern nations, and prevailed in the earliest times t. Yet no one, at the same time, can fail to observe, that * No doubt the devotion of a Hindú wife implied greater inferiority than is compatible with modern European ideas of independence. The extent to which this devotion was carried even in little matters is curiously exemplified by the story of Gándhárí, who out of sympathy for her blind husband never appeared in public without a veil over her face. Hence, during the grand sham-fight between the Kuru and Páṇḍu princes, Vidura stood by Dhritarashtra, and Kuntí by Gándhárí, to describe the scene to them (Astrasikshá, 34). † It was equally natural to the Greeks and Romans. Chivalry and reverence for the fair sex belonged only to European nations of northern origin, who were the first to hold 'inesse fœminis sanctum aliquid.' (Tac. Germ. 8.) That Hindú women in ancient times secluded themselves, except on certain occasions, may be inferred from the word asúryampaśyá, given by Páṇini as an epithet of a king's wife (one who never sees the sun'); a very strong expression, stronger even than the pardanishin of the Muhammadans. It is to be observed also that in the Rámáyaṇa (VI. xcix. 33) there is clear allusion to some sort of seclusion being practised; and the term Avarodha, 'secluded or guarded place,' is used long before the time of the Muhammadans for the women's apartments. In the Ratnávalí, however, the minister of Vatsa, with his chamberlain and the envoy from Ceylon, are admitted to an audience there in the presence of the queen and her damsels; and Ráma, although in the 99th chapter of the 6th book of the Rámáyaṇa he thinks it necessary to excuse himself for permitting his wife to expose herself to the gaze of the crowd, yet expressly (verse 34) enumerates various occasions on which it was allowable for a woman to show herself |